Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Hunter
The mysteries of the universe are incomprehensible, but perhaps we aren’t here to understand, only accept the gifts it provides.
S he drives like a maniac with the hounds of Hell on her tail. I guess they are. With the clear contingency plans she has in place, and the fact she felt the need to have escape routes, I don’t doubt the threat is very real. Deadly, even. From what Ghost has told me, Jonathan is a well-connected, evil man. She said he was into some shit, but I didn’t realize how far his reach stretched. I’ll unpick more details once we are safe inside my home.
I twist my body to look at her, really closely stare at her face. It’s the first chance I’ve ever been able to, and I’m too weak to pass up the opportunity. She’s been haunting my mind for months, and I need to get my fill. My eyes follow the slight upward curl of her petite nose, giving her a regal air she has no idea the power of. Dark lashes frame jaded eyes and sweep against high cheekbones. Her lush, deep pink lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top, tempts me to sink my teeth into it. I drink my fill of her while she can’t hide from me. She’s stuck, and if the tic in her jaw is any indication, she hates it.
She is one of the best hackers and coders in the world. Everyone knows she exists, but the community largely thinks Ghost is a man, and she is only too happy to let that rumor run. It helps to keep her identity a secret. I can count on one hand how many people actually know what she looks like, and I’m fortunate enough to be one of them.
She glances over at me. “What?” she snaps. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes jump to the rearview mirror. “Where?”
“All over.”
She frowns, glancing up once more before cutting her eyes to me. “All over?”
“Yes.”
She blinks, a small furrow between her brows. “I’m not following.”
“Beauty, Eleanor. It’s all over your face.”
She snorts. “Smooth, Hunter. Very smooth.”
“Does smooth win me brownie points?”
“Absolutely not.”
“What does?”
“Nothing, so stop trying. It’s never going to happen.”
“Never say never.”
She quirks a brow. “I can safely say never when it comes to me and you.”
“Why? Am I not your type?”
Her forehead creases. I’m not conceited—I know I’m not everyone’s type. That’s what makes our world so diverse and beautiful. There’s someone for everyone, and my book club girlies certainly help prove that with their choices every month. However, I am not convinced Eleanor rebuffed my previous advances for lack of chemistry. I’m at a loss, but I love puzzles, and the more she pushes me away, the more complex a puzzle she presents. Without realizing it, she’s making me more determined to search the depths of her mind.
“I’m not interested in what you are offering,” she settles on.
Oh, this should be good. “What exactly do you think I’m offering?”
“An unsatisfying one night stand. A quick and dirty fuck.”
Blood rushes south as I stare at her mouth forming the words dirty and fuck. Well, that’s going to star in my dreams for some time. Not that she hasn’t featured in a number of them already. I have fisted my cock to the thought of those plump lips more times than I can count.
“Let me get this straight. You made a decision to end us before we began as a result of a one-sided conversation you had, with yourself, about your perception of my intentions?”
Her lips twitch. “I get the most sense when I talk to myself.”
“Someone who only keeps their own council is operating without the checks and balances of the world.”
“I don’t need to talk to anyone about my dating decisions.”
“So, you do date?”
Her lips purse. “No.”
“You won’t entertain an us because your perception is that I’m only interested in a one night stand, a ‘quick and dirty fuck’ as you put it.” She sucks in a breath, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Now I get it.”
She snaps her head toward me. “Now you get what?”
A slow grin forms on my face. “Nothing.”
She glances back at the open road, overtaking a slow-moving RV. “That’s not fair. You have something to say, so spit it out.”
Oh no, Eleanor, I don’t think so. I have your number now and arming you with the knowledge of why you are avoiding me will only make you dig your feet in deeper. I’m about to turn her world upside down and inside out. That’s what she’s afraid of, and I don’t think she even realizes it herself.
I reach for the radio and fiddle with the settings. There’re so many damn buttons on this thing. I miss my bike. The lights in the car change from white to pink.
“Stop touching my things,” she snaps.
“But I’m very good at touching things. Give me a chance, and you’ll want me touching all your things.”
Her gaze slides to mine before refocusing on the road. “Only I touch my things, because I know the precise way I enjoy it.”
Is Eleanor Austin flirting?
I settle on a classic rock station, then adjust the base. The rumble increases beneath the seat in a satisfying vibration. Eleanor’s thighs clench, making my lips twitch. She’s super sensitive. Noted. I move on to the AC, increasing the temperature so a steady heat permeates the air.
“Hunter, stop. It’s uncomfortable,” she says in an exasperated tone.
“Relax. Passenger rules. I’m acclimatizing you for the Texas heat. Don’t want you fainting in my arms when you step out of this refrigerator.”
“Fucking men and their conceited attitude of ‘I know best.’”
I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
She yawns as the fuel light pings and sighs like she’s annoyed at the car for not being able to refuel itself.
“There’s a gas station in a couple of miles,” I tell her. “I’ll take the next driving shift.”
“I’m good.”
“It’s either that or we stop at a cheap motel where there will likely only be one room available, and it will only have one bed.”
“What are you talking about?” she says as her face crumples in confusion. Not a reader then. Figures.
“I value my life enough to not risk you falling asleep at the wheel. We swap or stop. Your choice.”
“Fine, we’ll swap, because whatever gibberish you spouted about one bed isn’t happening.”
Isn’t it? We shall see. A slow smile takes over my face.
She pulls into the gas station. “I’m going to grab some snacks,” she mutters. “Do you want anything?”
“I’m easy. Whatever you get, I’m sure I will like.”
She grabs her phone and turns her body toward me. “I want to know what snacks you want. I don’t want to share mine.”
“You don’t share?”
“Never.”
“Good to know. Neither do I,” I rumble.
“I feel like we’re having two different conversations.”
Oh, we certainly are. She rolls her eyes before opening the door and stalking into the store. I make quick work of refueling her car and sliding into the driver’s seat, adjusting it for my height. I’m going to enjoy driving this baby.
Eleanor returns and opens the driver’s door, finding me in her seat. She huffs, slams the door, drops into the leather passenger seat, and secures her seat belt. She changes the temperature back to the arctic blast she seems to enjoy, making me smile. She turns down the classic rock, but leaves the bass settings as they are. I peel out onto the road and thank my lucky stars we are taking a relatively quiet route so I can open this car up. I prefer my bikes, obviously, but the way this handles? The way it hugs the road as I push it around corners too fast for most vehicles? The rumble of the engine that vibrates beneath us? It’s a damn close second.
Eleanor’s phone rings with Fox’s name lighting up the screen.
“I’m fine,” she answers by way of greeting.
“Are you with Hunter?” Fox asks, his voice echoing in the car.
“He’s driving.”
“You’re on his motorcycle?” Honor asks, surprise ringing through her voice.
“Of course not. He’s driving my car.”
I snort. “She’s leaving out the fact her car is a limited edition Audi R8 and handles like a fucking dream.”
“Nice,” Honor responds.
“Where are you heading?” Fox asks, getting us back on track. He never did allow us to have fun on missions.
“One of my places.”
“Texas?” Honor asks.
“That’s right.”
“Good. At least you’ll be in the same state if you need our help.”
Eleanor shifts in her seat, a scowl marring her forehead. “I don’t want you involved in this.”
“Too late,” Fox snaps. “You gave us permission the second you triggered that tracker, which, in case you weren’t aware, has now been turned off.”
“Of course I’m aware.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to leave it on, since you are in danger?”
“It’s got an automatic feature. If I don’t respond to the notification every twenty-four hours, it will switch itself on. If that happens, I am in shit.”
“Change it to twelve,” I suggest.
“What? Why?”
“And give me access. We are going to be together most of the time, so I will know if you are missing before a tracking app does.”
“Ghost, that makes a lot of sense,” Honor pushes.
Eleanor drags her teeth over her bottom lip, her fingers drumming against her thigh. “Fine. Now, if you don’t mind, I haven’t eaten, so I need sustenance.”
“Keep us updated,” Fox adds before Eleanor disconnects the call.
She closes her eyes and leans her head against the seat, puffing out a long breath. “This is why I don’t have friends.”
“You have people who care about you. Is that so hard to accept?”
“Yes.”
“You showed up for them when it was dangerous and stressful, but you don’t expect that to be reciprocated?”
“Honor’s husband was a monster, but he was, for the most part, operating on his own with the danger isolated to her. My monster has his hands woven into too many influential pies to continue turning a blind eye.” She shifts, her lips thinning as silence settles around us. “They won’t hesitate to support him by eliminating any threat to keep their disgusting and illegal practices safe and secret. There is so much more on the line than my life, which means I should be doing this alone.”
“You’re wrong.”
Her eyes snap open, and she whirls to look at me. “Please, after being in my world for five fucking minutes, tell me how I am wrong.”
“The beast you are hunting might be bigger than Honor’s dead husband, but he is, at his core, another predator who thinks his connections make him invulnerable. Untouchable. He’s not, but he’s walking around like his actions don’t have consequences.”
“Oh, he’s aware of the consequences. But they don’t bother him.”
“All the more reason why you need to surround yourself with capable people who give a shit. Don’t do this alone, Eleanor. Stay with me for a few weeks until Christopher gets bored of his hunt. Take a minute to put your research back together in the spare room, then get an outside perspective and let’s get this done.”
“You, I suppose, are the outside perspective?”
“I am.”
She hums, turning to look out the window. It’s neither a yes or a no, which is all I can ask for now. Her phone rings again, her shoulders relaxing at the caller ID. She sighs as she accepts the call.
“Gail, I’m sorry, I need to reschedule.”
Interesting—her tone is a little softer. Who is Gail? Family? Friend? Although she seems adamant she has neither of those things.
A feminine voice plays through the speakers. “Oh no, missy, we discussed this. You don’t reschedule or cancel. That leads to the road of ruin.”
“I have a genuine reason.”
“Unless you are naked and riding a man, you do not have an excuse that flies with me.”
I raise my brows as I imagine Eleanor naked and straddling my thighs. Damn, now it’s all I can think about. Readjusting my jeans, I hope my arousal isn’t obvious. I just stopped fantasizing about her, but now she’s going to be in my private space, her scent, her body, her aura eating up my world. I’m fucked.
“No, not naked, but I am with a man.”
“Really? Show me.”
She sighs, and I expect her to tell Gail to get fucked. Eleanor doesn’t take instruction from anyone. When you’re the smartest person in the room, taking orders is difficult.
She flips the screen, switching to video and moving her hand to the window, angling both of us in the shot. A pretty blond- haired, blue-eyed woman squints at us.
“Damn. Where did you find him?”
“Miami.”
“Technically, I found you,” I correct.
“Gail, meet Hunter, my rescuer .” She emphasizes the last word like she finds the whole idea of being saved preposterous.
“Wait, Ellie… Hunter? The Hunter?” Gail asks.
Ellie? She quickly sets the audio to private so I can’t hear the other side of the call. I smirk. Too late, Ellie .
“No, well, yes. I suppose that’s technically correct,” Eleanor answers. A full minute goes by as I realize the possibility I got under her skin the way she got under mine. My mouth curls into a grin. Eleanor likes me. Likes me, likes me.
“It’s complicated,” she mutters.
Let me uncomplicate it for you, temptress. I like you, you like me. We should give into that, and see where it takes us.
“No, I didn’t ask him.”
Ask away. I’m an open book.
“A few weeks at most.”
We’ll see about that.
“I made a mistake,” she whispers.
Not yet, but I am here to help you make questionable decisions when it comes to me and me alone .
“Sure. Two days.”
What’s in two days?
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t complete that homework with a pushy biker breathing down my neck twenty-four seven.”
I can breathe elsewhere if you prefer.
“Absolutely not.”
I think I like Gail.
“Fine, I will try. That’s all I can offer right now, especially when my choices of partner are limited. Two days. Bye, Gail.” She lets her phone fall into her lap.
“Who is Gail?”
“My therapist.”
Oh, that makes sense. “What’s your homework?” I don’t expect her to tell me, but there’s no harm in asking.
“She is helping me to form emotional connections and be more available.”
“You are perfect. Why change?”
She snorts. “There are many, many reasons why I am not perfect, Hunter.”
“Anyone who doesn’t accept you as you are is not worth knowing.”
“What if no one accepts you? Do you resign yourself to a life alone?”
“No, but if you let someone in for long enough to get to know you—the real you—perhaps they will surprise you. But if you only allow for superficial contact, then you can only expect superficial relationships.”
She goes quiet for so long I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. I cover another hundred miles before she finally answers, her words cracking my heart.
“Life has taught me many hard lessons, Hunter. The most valuable being the more open you are, the closer you let someone get, the easier it is to break you. Power comes from owning someone’s desires, their fears, their hopes and dreams. If you fail to share private things, then they can, at best, launch a superficial attack on your psyche, one easily recoverable from. If you let someone in, if they wind themselves around your life and make themselves integral to your existence, your world shatters when they leave, and your soul is set adrift in a sea of loss, pain, and grief.”
A mile ticks by as I wait for her to continue, my heart in my throat. “I fought my way back from that once, and I don’t ever intend on giving someone that much power over me again. Take someone’s right to education away, and they will fight to become the smartest person in the room. Try to control them with the love they have for family, and they stop loving anyone. If they dig for your fear, day after day, and subject you to that terror over and over, you stop letting it in. If you don’t, it will consume you. Ultimately, you die. Perhaps not in the physical sense, but mentally you check out to protect yourself from fracturing into so many pieces you have no chance of ever being whole again.” Her eyes cut to mine, her body stiff. “To answer your question, no. I am not willing to let someone in long enough to uncover my many flaws and use them against me. No, I will not make myself vulnerable to someone who may or may not hurt me. No, there is no chance of me changing my mind. It’s not worth the risk.”
What the hell have you been through? Also, the irony of her receiving two calls from people who clearly care about her isn’t lost on me. She needs to wake up to the fact that she doesn’t control how others feel about her, and without realizing it, by showing up for them, she has earned their respect and more importantly, their friendship. “Then you are living a half life.”
I glance at her as her lips wobble into a smile as she stares out of the windscreen. “Yet that’s still a life far greater than the one I was born into, the one I was destined for. Every day of freedom is a gift, one I will not risk with notions of love or connection. Am I happy?” She scoffs, the sound brittle and hollow. Empty. “I’m not sure. But I am my own woman, one free to make decisions about her life and its direction. I am content, that I know, and perhaps that’s all I am meant for.”
My gut twists. I shouldn’t push her, but my body screams for me to do something. Can I guarantee I’ll never hurt her? Is that realistic? My heart crumbles in my chest. No, not really. Even people who share the greatest of loves still cause each other pain. My parents can attest to that—forty-three years of marriage and I’ve watched them fight hard and love harder. Passion isn’t being content, it’s the opposite. Volatile. Messy. Breathtaking. If Eleanor is after a peaceful, content life, I should walk away now before either of us get hurt.
But there’s this little niggling thought I’ve had since I first got to know her months ago, one that screams about not letting someone go that is hiding something magnificent. That she’s waiting for the right person to prove to her love is worth the risk, worth the fight and the pain. Because the reward, the one filling the hole nothing else can, is life changing. Like two pieces of an impossible eight billion piece jigsaw, two pieces made to connect, to fit perfectly… the probability of solving that puzzle is virtually zero, but we’re right there.
Soulmates. Not something I’ve ever thought about before today. I always thought we could end up happy with a multitude of people. How else would marriages and partnerships last? It’s unrealistic to think you could find the one person meant to be yours in the world. Improbable. Statistically impossible, Eleanor would say, but we only understand a fraction of the mysteries of the universe. Maybe soulmates are another bit of magic alive and well in the world.
She settles into the seat, breathing deep and steady to calm the tempest within her, building the wall higher and higher between us. Gulping, I focus on the road stretching before us. I think Eleanor is meant to be mine. My fingers creak against the steering wheel, my body practically humming now I’ve accepted what I have been fighting for months. All I need to do now is crack the giant firewall she’s built around herself.
Hope you are ready, temptress. I’m about to make your head spin.