Chapter 58
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
HUNTER
This fucking jumpsuit is a crime in itself.
These pricks have put me behind bars. Not the real jail, not the one where they throw you in with men who have nothing left to lose.
No, they’ve got me in a temporary holding cell instead.
My own personal concrete box with iron bars, a stone slab pretending to be a bed, and a stainless steel toilet shoved in the corner like an afterthought.
Real luxury.
The kind of thing a lot of officers don't even know exists in their building.
I rattle the bars when an officer walks past. This one I don’t recognize. I’ve been here for six hours. Six hours of sitting on a rock and staring at gray walls while these idiots pretend they’re building a case. And they haven’t done shit with me except toss me in here and ignore me.
I’d love to know who is paying them off for this shit. But, they ain’t going to tell me. I got to figure that out for myself, once I get myself out of here. “I need to make my fucking phone call,” I shout.
He laughs without turning around. “Yeah. You can wait. Your lawyer already called in to check on the progress.”
I frown, shaking my head. “What fuckin’ lawyer?”
Drago won’t even have word of this yet. But, Reese, that fuckin’ asshole, he has contacts everywhere.
“Reese Atkins. Said he’s your lawyer. Pretty shit one if you ask me, because he still ain’t here.”
I scoff, keeping a straight face. “My phone call?”
He laughs again.
I nod slowly. Studying the back of his head. “You’ll regret that.”
He stops mid-step and turns back toward the cell. Then he really looks at me. Not a glance. A proper look. “Why? What makes you different from the other low lives we get in here?” he asks.
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Have you actually checked my records? My last name, perhaps?”
Glad to see they’re a bright bunch here. Maybe he just came on shift, and nobody handed him the memo about me.
“Hunter Sterling,” I confirm.
The reaction is immediate. His shoulders stiffen. He takes half a step back.
Yeah. He knows exactly who I am. And that is the correct response. Because even behind bars, I can get to anyone I want to. The reach doesn’t stop at iron.
“I’ll… um. I’ll see if I can arrange your call.”
“Thank you,” I say calmly.
I walk back to my charming stone mattress and sit. Ace will be moving heaven and earth right now. Drago will be on his way. The only thing I need to do is sit here and wait.
But first, that phone call. Because I need to hear my wife’s voice.
A few minutes later, the same officer returns, looking a hell of a lot more nervous than before. His eyes flick around the hallway.
“Sir,” he says quietly. “Are you married to a very angry red-haired girl?”
I’m on my feet before he finishes the sentence. “Yes. Is she here?”
He nods. How the hell did she figure out where they’re holding me? This won’t be public knowledge since the police department wants me hidden.
My chest tightens. This is the last place she belongs.
“Can I see her?” I grip the bars. “Please. I’ll give you two years' salary in cash if you can make that happen. Five minutes.”
He drags a hand through his blond hair, debating whether he’s about to ruin his career or run the risk of what happens if he says no. I’d take the cash, personally.
“I can probably arrange the interview room,” he mutters. “But no fucking around. No trying to escape. You’ll be cuffed. Wrists and ankles. And I’ll be in the room. Armed. You mess up, and I will react accordingly, Mr. Sterling.”
“Fine,” I grunt.
The next twenty minutes crawl slower than the last six hours combined.
The cell door opens, and the officer steps inside. For a split second, I debate knocking him out and making a run for it.
But in the long run? That will just make it worse.
If I didn’t have Wyatt and Lola to think about, I would. Because I know I have the power outside of here to keep running. I can change identities. I can kill Hunter and become someone else.
But now? I don’t want that. I want to be Hunter. I want to be Lola’s husband. I have to be.
So, I have to do the right thing, and for once in my life. Behave.
“Turn around.”
Cuffs snap around my wrists. Another pair around my ankles, a short chain linking them. They march me down the hallway like an animal.
Maybe I am.
The interview room is as expected. Gray walls. Metal table bolted to the floor. Two chairs. He sits me down and chains my cuffs to a ring on the table.
The officer moves to the door. Arms folded. I can smell how nervous he is from here.
“Five minutes,” he says.
Then the door opens and Lola storms in like a hurricane. Her red hair is wild around her shoulders. Green eyes blazing as she scans the room. The second she sees me chained to the table, something in her face cracks open.
“Hunter,” she breathes.
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to see her until this exact second. Just one look and everything seems brighter in my life. “Hey, firefly.”
She crosses the room in two strides and drops into the chair across from me. Her hands reach for mine despite the cuffs digging into my wrists. Her fingers slide over the metal, and her breath hitches.
“I can’t believe they put you in here,” she whispers.
“I’ve had worse accommodations.”
Her eyes fill instantly. “No. Don’t joke about this. This is not funny, Hunter.” She looks away from me, and I can see her fighting to hold it together.
I lean forward and lower my voice, just for her. Trying to pull her to me. Away from this shit. Just focus on me. “Hey. Look at me.”
She does. And I can see it. The fear. Real, bone-deep fear.
“Ace said Drago is going to be here soon,” she says quietly.
“I know.”
Her grip tightens on my hands. “Wyatt is fine. I went and checked on him before we came here. He thinks you’re at a bar.”
That guts me. My six-year-old son is asleep in his bed, thinking his dad is having a drink somewhere, and I’m chained to a table in a holding cell.
“Thank you, firefly,” I whisper, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice.
Silence hangs between us. The officer shifts by the door but keeps his mouth shut.
There’s something I need to say. Because seeing her in this place, for me.
Sitting across from me in a room designed for criminals and the lawyers who keep them breathing.
It isn’t right. My city girl deserves better.
And I don’t know what magic Drago can pull to get me out.
I saw the life she used to lead. And I’m not sure I can offer her something better.
“Lola.”
She goes still. “What?”
“I need you to listen to me.”
Her brow creases. “Hunter—”
“No. Just hear me out.”
She nods reluctantly. She still looks terrified.
“If this gets messy,” I say quietly, “you have an out. You don’t have to deal with this shit.”
Her expression changes immediately. The fear gives way to something sharper. “What?”
“You can leave.” I hold her gaze. “Next week, when you go to New York… you can stay there. It’s safer for you there.”
Her grip loosens on my hands.
“You’ll still have protection,” I add quickly. “Frankie will make sure of it. Here or there. You’ll never be alone.”
She just stares at me. If anything, there’s disappointment on her face.
“You don’t have to wait and go through all this for me. You didn’t sign up for this life. I love you too damn much to expect you to put up with this shit.” I swallow. “You keep my name. You use that to keep yourself safe. But you don’t have to be with me for that.”
The room goes quiet. The officer glances between us, then looks at the wall.
“You deserve the world, firefly,” I say gently. “And I really wish I was the man who could give you that.”
Seeing me in this jumpsuit should have had her turning on her heel. Yet she walked in here with every ounce of love I’ve ever seen in a human being’s eyes.
For a moment, she doesn’t move. Then her hand swings across the table and cracks against my face. The sound echoes off the concrete as my head snaps to the side.
The officer straightens in alarm. “What the—”
“I’m fine,” I say.
Lola is shaking. Vibrating with an anger so hot I can feel it radiating off her skin.
“How dare you?” she spits. Her eyes are blazing with tears. “How dare you even suggest that?”
I stare at her.
“You think that little of me? Our vows meant nothing to you?” Her voice is cracking, but her eyes are ablaze.
“Because I made a promise to stand by your side. Whether it’s at the ranch or in this room or fighting for your freedom.
It doesn’t matter. I chose you. I knew the risks.
Don’t make out I’m stupid, Hunter Sterling.
And I made a promise to your son. I promised I wouldn’t leave him.
That I’d look after him if this exact thing happened. You think I’m going to break that?”
“Lola—”
“No.” She cuts me dead. “You don’t get to decide what I can handle. You don’t get to push me away because you think you’re protecting me. Love isn’t just about protecting. It’s about being a team. Loving each other no matter what happens.”
She leans across the table and rests her hand on the cheek she just fully pelted with a slap.
“I love you, Hunter Sterling.” Her voice breaks fully this time.
But the fire in her eyes doesn’t. “And you didn’t kill her.
Which means you’re getting out of here. So stop acting like this is the end of the story.
Stop staying stupid shit you don’t mean, and that you haven’t even thought through.
I’m Wyatt’s legal guardian now. Your wife. So shut the fuck up. Okay?”
Something tight in my chest loosens. I’ve killed a lot of people. But I’m not going down for the one I didn’t commit. And this woman dragged my head back out of the dark hole it was going down.
“You hear me?” she demands.
I nod slowly. Angry Lola is terrifying. And devastatingly, inappropriately hot. “Yes, ma’am.”
She wipes her eyes furiously. “Good boy.”
Jesus fucking Christ, all my blood rushes south.
She leans forward and presses her forehead gently against mine. “You’re not doing this alone, so stop pretending that you are. You have a wife now. And that means something.”
I close my eyes and breathe her in. Shampoo and perfume and the salt of her tears. The smell of everything I refuse to lose.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I murmur.
Her hand squeezes mine. “I’m going to spank you so hard for that outburst when you get out of here, cowboy,” she says softly.
I almost laugh. “You already slapped me once.”
Her cheeks redden. “Yeah… sorry about that. Sort of.”
I press a kiss to her cheek. “Nah. It was sexy. No complaints here, baby.”
She pulls back, and that glimmer is in her eyes again. “I’ve got you, cowboy.”
“I know you do, firefly. I know you do.”
I glance at the guard, and he checks his watch. “One more minute.”
“Gimme a kiss, Lola. Come give this criminal some love.”
She bites her lip. Then presses her mouth against mine. Soft and fierce at the same time. A kiss that tastes like the kind of stubbornness that refuses to let go.
“Do you think I could pay that guard off to get us some more time alone?” she says quietly against my lips.
I wouldn’t trust them not to be recording this. So no. Not happening. None of these assholes gets to see my wife.
“How about we role-play this scenario out when I’m home, baby.”
She blushes, and this time, kisses me deeper. Stealing my goddamn breath from my lungs. “Slapping you made me really wet.”
I groan, tipping my head back. “This is torture.”
She giggles, the spark behind her eyes is back, and that is what I need to see. To know she’s okay.
That will keep me going.
I’m not going down for this. Not when I’ve got something worth fighting for.