Chapter 60
CHAPTER SIXTY
HUNTER
I hop into Drago’s Aston Martin in silence.
At least I’m back in my own clothes. That’s something. The jumpsuit is in a trash somewhere in that station, and I hope it fucking rots.
My wrists ache as I rub at them, staring out into the darkness ahead.
Drago pulls onto the main road without a word.
This Russian isn’t a man of many words. But I can feel him thinking.
The gears turning behind a face that was designed to make people confess just by sitting across from it.
He’s part of Enzo’s organization. A trained killer.
A lawyer. A hacker. There isn’t much this beast of a man can’t do.
“You must have worked some magic in there to pull this off,” I say, breaking the silence.
He half laughs. “Money. Not magic. And some data Enzo passed over that was of interest to them. We’ve bought you time, Hunter.
Not freedom. Not yet.” He checks the rearview.
“They still want someone in jail for this. A woman was murdered in her home. People are scared. And my guess is, they’re getting paid a shit ton by the Greeks for this, too.
Now we have to find a way to get the law on our side and find the bastard feeding them intel. ”
I rub my hands on my jeans. “We’re working on it. We think we have a rat in camp.”
“Yeah. You do.” He glances at me. “And I’m going to fucking find out who they are.”
“Okay.” I turn to study him. I know he is good at hacking—second only to Enzo himself.
“And once this shit is dealt with, we take a little trip to Los Angeles. The Quinn brothers are happy to repay the favor for your assistance recently.”
I crack my knuckles. “Nice. Did Romeo get anywhere with the security footage around Ashley’s street?”
His jaw ticks. “That’s what I’m working on. Nothing is ever fully erased. It won’t take me long to figure it out, Hunter.”
I blow out a breath as we turn onto Sterling Ranch property. The iron arch passes overhead. The gravel crunches under the tires.
Home.
“Go get some rest. See your kid,” Drago tells me as he cuts the engine. “I’ll go with your brothers and get to work.”
“Thank you, Drago.”
He gives me a curt nod. “No problem.”
I head inside and close the door quietly. It’s late. The house is dark except for the blue glow of the television flickering from the living room.
I round the corner and stop. Wyatt is curled up with Lola on the couch, Rex by their feet.
My son’s head is on her chest, and her arm is draped around him, cheek resting against the top of his head.
Both are sound asleep, while Gary chews on a pillow.
I won’t ask why the goat is in the house.
He stops his chewing for a second to look at me, then is back at it within seconds. I don’t have the energy to fight him.
The TV is playing some cartoon that neither of them is watching. A blanket has been pulled up to Wyatt’s chin.
This is my life. My whole damn purpose for being on this earth.
I take off my boots and set them by the door, crossing the room silently. I slide my arms under Wyatt and lift him. He stirs but doesn’t wake, just turns his face into my chest and makes a small sound, his fist curling into my shirt.
“I love you, son,” I whisper as I carry him upstairs, Rex and Gary following behind.
I tuck him in and press a kiss to his forehead. Rex jumps on the bed, circles until he finds his spot, and thumps his tail once. There is no way Rex is leaving Wyatt’s side. As I turn to the door, there is Gary, having a face-off with me.
“Fine. You can stay here. But under no circumstances do you eat anything in this fucking bedroom,” I say, to the damn goat.
He bleats in response, and all I can do is blink at him as he trots past me and settles on the floor beside Wyatt’s bed.
Fuck it.
As I go back downstairs, Lola is awake now. Sitting upright on the couch, staring at me like she can’t work out if I’m real or if she’s dreaming. “Hunter?” she breathes.
“Yes, firefly.”
It happens all at once.
She launches off the couch and sprints toward me. I’m already moving. We collide in the middle of the living room, and the impact almost takes us both off our feet. Her arms lock around my neck.
I lift her off the ground, her legs wrapping around my waist, and I press her back against the wall and kiss her. The kind of kiss that’s trying to confirm that the person in your arms is real and solid and not going anywhere.
“I love you, Hunter. I love you so damn much,” she pants against my mouth.
I frame her face with my hands. Look into her eyes. Let her see everything. “I love you too. I love you with everything that I am, baby.”
I kiss her again. Softer this time. Proving it. Her legs tighten around me as I push her harder against the wall.
“What happens now?” she asks.
“Now? We fuck. We sleep. We forget the last twenty-four hours happened.”
Her brow creases. “So, have you cleared your name?”
I shake my head. “Not quite. But we have a plan. It’s going to be over soon.”
“So… you’re not going to jail?” she asks, her hands dragging down my chest, that fire reigniting behind her eyes.
I chuckle. “Why? Did you have some sort of felon fantasy, Mrs. Sterling?”
She chews on her lip. “Maybe a handcuff one?”
I raise an eyebrow. “What about some rope?”
“Tie me up, cowboy.”
I let out a low groan. “You’re insatiable, baby.”
“I missed you,” she whispers against my lips.
Just as I lean in to kiss her again, light footsteps pad down the stairs.
“Daddy!” Wyatt’s voice shakes me back out of my Lola bubble.
I smile against Lola’s mouth and set her gently on her feet, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her into my side.
“Are you okay, bud?”
Wyatt wipes his eyes and smiles. “I thought I could hear your voice. Can you come lie with me?”
“Of course.”
I glance down at Lola. She’s smiling at our exchange, her eyes glassy. “I’ll meet you in bed once he’s asleep,” I whisper.
She squeezes my side. “Okay.”
I release her and jog up the stairs. Wyatt is at the top, looking down at Lola.
“No,” he says. “I meant both of you.”
My heart damn near explodes. “Go ask her then, son. I’m sure she’d love to join us.”
He grins and runs back down the stairs. I lean on the banister and watch him take Lola’s hand and lead her up the stairs. She looks up at me over his head, and her eyes say everything.
We go to our bedroom. There is no way in hell Wyatt’s bed would fit three. We climb under the covers together. Wyatt is in the middle, his head on my chest, I have one arm stretched across to rest on Lola’s hip, while my arm is underneath both of them.
She rolls to face us. “This is nice,” she whispers.
Nice. This is the best feeling in the world. The two people I love more than life itself are safe in my bed.
It doesn’t take long for them to fall asleep. Wyatt’s breathing slows first, then Lola’s, her hand going limp against my ribs.
I stare at the ceiling, fighting the tiredness. Because one thing remains. Someone is working with the Greeks behind my back. Someone who knows my movements. Someone close enough to set me up for Ashley’s murder with the kind of precision that suggests they know everything about me.
My schedule. My habits.
Someone on my side of the fence is going to die for this.
I look down at my son sleeping on my chest. My wife curled against him.
Whoever it is, they’re close. And when I find them, there won’t be a hole deep enough to hide in.