Chapter 16 Hunter #2
Her nails rake across my face as she attacks with every ounce of strength her weakened body possesses. I don’t defend myself. I don’t try to stop her. Each blow is deserved.
“You watched him die,” she sobs, still striking me. “You watched, and you said nothing!”
Her fists connect with my wounded shoulder, sending white-hot pain through my body, but I don’t flinch. Don’t step back.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’m so fucking sorry, Aurora. I’ll explain everything, but we need to go. Now.”
Blood drips from my shoulder, pooling on the concrete floor. I barely notice it. Her eyes—those beautiful eyes that once looked at me with passion—now burn with hatred. It cuts deeper than any bullet.
“Where’s Olivia?” Aurora demands, still hitting me even as tears stream down her face. “Where’s my sister?”
My stomach drops. Cold dread spreads through me, washing away the momentary relief of finding Aurora.
“All the other cells are empty. I don’t know.”
Aurora’s voice cracks with fear. “Jax said he had special plans for her and kept us separate. We must find her!”
The compound shudders violently, concrete dust raining from the ceiling. The familiar vibration of explosives ripples through the structure. Jax rigged the building to blow—a final contingency if his facility was compromised.
I don’t hesitate. I pull bolt cutters from my tactical vest and snap through Aurora’s restraints. The chains fall away with a metallic clatter.
“We’ll find Olivia, I swear to you,” I promise, lifting Aurora into my arms despite her protests. Her body feels painfully light—too many pounds lost during captivity. “But first, I’m getting you out of here.”
She struggles against me, fists pounding weakly against my chest. “Put me down! I’m not leaving without her!”
Another explosion rocks the compound. Larger this time. Closer.
“Hunter!” Penn’s voice crackles through my comm. “Get out of there. The fucking place is going to collapse!”
I tighten my grip on Aurora and run toward the exit, each step sending fresh agony through my wounded shoulder.
“I can’t leave her,” Aurora sobs, her fight weakening as exhaustion overtakes her. “She’s my sister. I promised I’d protect her.”
I cradle Aurora against my chest as we race through the collapsing structure. The guards have abandoned their posts—rats fleeing a sinking ship. Smart. Because Jax has rigged this place to come down on our heads.
Dust fills my lungs with every breath. My wounded shoulder screams with each movement, but I keep Aurora tucked against me, navigating through falling debris.
The building shudders violently. A support beam crashes down mere feet ahead of us. I pivot, carrying Aurora down another corridor.
“Let me run, we’ll be faster!” She shrieks.
I nod and set her down on her feet. “This way,” I command, pulling her toward an emergency exit. Despite her hatred for me, despite her fury, Aurora keeps pace. Two weeks of Jax’s captivity haven’t broken her spirit.
“Move!” I yell as the ceiling begins to give way. We sprint the final stretch, bursting through the exit door just as a thunderous roar signals the building’s death throes.
Dawn light greets us for one brilliant moment before the shockwave hits.
I don’t think—just react. I spin, wrapping my body around Aurora as we’re thrown forward.
My back takes the brunt of the impact as debris rains down.
Something sharp tears through my tactical vest, embedding in my flesh.
Another impact knocks the breath from my lungs.
When the dust begins to settle, I pull myself up, hands immediately searching Aurora’s body. Blood trickles from a gash on her forehead. Her arms are mottled with bruises, some fresh, others yellowing. She’s too thin, too pale, but breathing.
“You’re okay,” I whisper. “You’re going to be okay.”
Her eyes find mine, still burning with fury and betrayal, but something else flickers there too—the instinct to survive.
My comm crackles to life as Penn’s voice cuts through the haze of pain and relief.
“Hunter, Jax escaped. Spotted him heading north with a woman matching Olivia’s description. Three vehicles, full security detail.”
Aurora’s hand shoots out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength. “Liv,” she gasps. Her face crumples. “No. No, we can’t leave her with him!”
The devastation in her eyes cuts deeper than my wounds. In two weeks of captivity, she hasn’t broken. Now she might shatter.
I pull her toward the extraction vehicle, blood still seeping through my tactical vest. “We won’t. I promise you, Aurora, we’ll get her back.”
Even as the words leave my mouth, the tactical reality sinks in. Jax has orchestrated this perfectly, forcing me to choose between securing Aurora’s immediate safety and pursuing Olivia. Aurora needs medical attention. She’s dehydrated, malnourished, and traumatized. The rational choice is clear.
But rationality means nothing when she looks at me with those eyes.
“He’s going to hurt her,” Aurora whispers, her voice cracking. “You don’t understand what he’s capable of.”
“I do understand.” I tighten my grip on her arm as she tries to pull away. “Better than anyone.”
Penn approaches. “Pursuit vehicles are ready. But Hunter—” He glances meaningfully at Aurora’s weakened state, then at my blood-soaked shoulder.
“We need to get her secure first,” I say, making the decision I hate but know is right. “Then we hunt him down. Full tactical response.”
“You promised!” Aurora fights against my grip with renewed strength. “You promised we wouldn’t leave her!”
“And we won’t,” I say firmly. “But I need you safe first.”
The sadistic bastard has won this round. He’s split us apart, taking the one person who could force Aurora to question whether she can trust me to rescue those she loves.
Her resistance suddenly falters. The adrenaline that kept her going finally ebbs, and her knees buckle beneath her. I catch her before she hits the ground, lifting her into my arms despite the searing pain in my shoulder.
Aurora collapses into the vehicle, physical and emotional exhaustion finally overwhelming her. I hold her trembling body against mine as Grayson passes me the tablet, which shows our tracking systems.
I watch Jax’s heat signature disappear from the screen, her sister—my fiancée on paper—vanishing into the darkness with a madman.