9. Trinity
Chapter Nine
TRINITY
Safety feels like Hunter's arms around me as he carries me from Holloway's house. Like his steady heartbeat beneath my ear as I curl against him in the truck. Like Risky's excited barking when we finally return to the cabin.
I've spent so much of my life running, I'd forgotten what it feels like to be found. To be chosen. To be worth coming back for.
Hunter doesn't bombard me with questions on the drive home. He simply holds my hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin, anchoring me to the present when memories of Holloway's threats threaten to pull me under.
“You're safe now,” he says, the only words he speaks during the entire drive. I believe him.
At the cabin, he carries me inside despite my protests that I can walk. Risky dances around us, whining with excitement. Hunter sets me gently on the couch, wraps me and a blanket and begins building a fire. I run my fingers through Risky's coarse fur, seeking comfort in his warm solidity.
“You need to eat,” Hunter says, disappearing into the kitchen. I hear cabinets opening, water running. The domestic sounds settle something inside me.
It's only when he returns with a mug of tea and a sandwich that I notice his grazed knuckles. I reach for his hand.
“You're hurt.”
He shakes his head. “Not like he is.”
The simple declaration should frighten me. Instead, it wraps around me like a shield. Hunter fought for me. Hunter and his MC came for me. Hunter wouldn't let Holloway win.
“Thank you. For finding me.”
He kneels before me, taking my hands in his. “I’ll always find you, gorgeous. But you need to stop running away.”
I look down at our joined hands. His are so large and scarred, mine small in comparison. “I thought I was protecting you.”
Hunter's voice is firm. “I protect you . That's the deal.”
“Holloway said?—”
“Holloway is gone .” Hunter's tone leaves no room for doubt. “The club made sure he understood that Ember Heart isn't his home anymore. You won’t see him again.”
I nod, relief washing through me. But Holloway was only half the problem.
“Rennick is still out there. He's in Montana now. That's why I left.”
Hunter sits beside me, his arm coming around my shoulders. “Then we deal with him. But I need to know everything, Trinity. From the beginning. No more secrets. Stop trying to protect me.”
I take a deep breath. “I was eighteen when I met him. Rennick seemed like salvation. Rich, handsome, attentive.”
Hunter listens silently as I describe those early days. The whirlwind romance that quickly became a gilded cage. The isolation, the control, the fear of disappointing him.
“It wasn't until later I realized what his business really was. Centare Capital looked legitimate, but there were always these meetings, these men I wasn't supposed to see or talk to.”
“Money laundering?” Hunter asks.
I nod. “That, and worse. I overheard him one night, on the phone. He was talking about a shipment of girls. From Eastern Europe. How much they'd fetch at auction.”
Hunter's arm tightens around me. “Human trafficking.”
“Then he started talking about me. How much he could get if he pimped me out. I pretended I hadn't heard anything. For two days, I acted normal while I planned my escape…”
I describe the weeks on the run. The shelters, the motels, the constant fear. How I found the mail-order bride site, thinking a new identity, a husband, and changing my name would keep me hidden.
“And then I got off that bus and saw you. And for the first time in months, I felt something other than fear.”
Hunter cups my face, wiping away my tears. “I'm going to fix this, Trinity. I promise.”
“How? Rennick is well connected.”
“So am I.” He kisses my forehead. “Rest now. Let me make some calls.”
I'm too exhausted to argue. I fall asleep on the couch, Risky curled protectively at my feet, the sound of Hunter's low voice in the kitchen as he speaks to someone on the phone.
When I wake, sunlight streams through the windows. I'm in Hunter's bed, though I don't remember how I got there. Voices drift up from downstairs; Hunter and Marcus, speaking in urgent tones.
I start walking downstairs, pausing when I hear my name.
“My contact confirms it.” Marcus is saying. “Centare Capital is under federal investigation. They've been watching Walsh for months. Human trafficking, money laundering, tax evasion. They just needed someone to testify.”
“She's not testifying. I won't put her in danger.” Hunter’s voice is hard.
“She may not have to." Pages rustle. “One of Walsh's associates flipped a couple of days back. Guy named Trent Meaker. He gave them everything; names, dates, account numbers. They arrested Walsh an hour ago.”
“Is it true?” I ask, hardly daring to hope. “They arrested Rennick?”
Marcus nods. “It's over, Trinity. He's going away for a long time.”
My legs give out. Hunter is there in an instant, catching me before I hit the floor, pulling me against his chest.
“You’re okay, baby,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my hair. "You're free."
“Are you sure?” I manage between sobs. “His connections…”
“Can't help him,” Marcus says, sliding a tablet across the table. “It's a federal case. Too big, too public. He's done.”
Hunter keeps his arms tight around me. “No one's going to hurt you again.”
For the first time, I truly believe it.
The days that follow have a dreamlike quality. I sleep without fear. I eat without watching the door. I walk outside without scanning for threats.
And Hunter is there, patient and steady, giving me space when I need it, holding me close when the nightmares come. After a week, they stop coming.
We’re watching the sunset on the porch. I’m making my mother’s famous beef stew from memory and the smell wafts outside.
“Can I ask you something?”
Hunter turns to me, his blue eyes serious. “Whatever you want, Trinity.”
“What if… I want to stay?”
His expression softens. “Here? With me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I take his hand. “I think you know why…”
Hunter cups my face, his calloused thumb tracing my cheekbone. “I love you, Trinity.”
The words fill the hollow spaces inside me, until my heart feels like it’s bursting. “I love you too.”
His kiss is gentle at first, then more intense. When we break apart, he presses his forehead to mine.
“Stay with me. Not because you're hiding or running or afraid. Stay because you want to.”
I smile up at him. “I want to. And I want you .”