Chapter 18
HUNTER
Weeks Later
Sometimes I think Cole is better at torture than I ever was.
It’s not so much that he’s inflicting physical pain. It’s that he’s kept me alive for so long. That might not make sense with how much time I’d spent behind bars before I was recruited to the CP, but when I was incarcerated, I didn’t have her to think about.
Fiona, with her bright red hair and plush lips that say exactly what I need to hear.
I know she’s alive, starting a new life as someone’s Kept woman. Perhaps she thinks of me. Fleeting thoughts, she pushes to the back of her mind.
What we had was a beautiful sin, not meant to last.
If only I had died before the dead rose, then I wouldn’t be living with the knowledge that there was something better for me. A dark soul that craved the comfort of a sharp blade on soft flesh.
Not her flesh.
Never hers.
The door to the holding slides open, and in comes Cole, Grady, and Blake.
Maybe today is the day I get to leave this world.
If there is an afterlife, I wonder how Gabby will receive me. Will she be happy I avenged her? Something tells me she’d be sad.
Cole opens Alistair’s cell and moves out of the way. “Your time has been served and you’re free to go.”
I’m glad he gets to go back to Britney. He did good by her, ridding the world of her stain of a father.
Or maybe that’s where I’m wrong. Maybe those things I did were meant for me and me alone. Some people live their lives in the light, even during these abysmal times.
Frowning, Cole approaches my cell next, placing his hand on the scanner.
The door slides open. I make no move to get up.
“Come on.” Cole gestures for me to exit.
“I don’t think I will.”
“Then I guess you don’t want to see Fiona.”
The mention of her name gets my attention.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. A bit ornery, and I suspect you had something to do with that.”
“Do I get to say goodbye before execution or something?”
“Maybe.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“We’re making a final decision regarding what we’re going to do with you.”
“Is this some kind of hearing?”
“We’re calling it a Judicium. People that break the law will get to tell their stories, and I’ll preside over their judgment with the help of a small council.”
“Fuck that. Not going.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“What?” I chuckle dryly. “Are you going to threaten to kill me?”
“Fiona doesn’t want to take another Keeper. If you come to your Judicium, I won’t make her.”
I sit up on my cot and shoot him a glare. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
Cole smirks. “If I don’t kill you first.”
He has me by the balls and there’s nothing I can do about it. I might as well do this one last good thing. For her.
And I have to admit, the thought of her wanting to stay single brings me a measure of comfort.
“Come on, Hunts. We don’t got all day.”
I exit my cell and follow him through the Keep to an enormous room meant to seat up to five hundred people. Grady and Blake follow behind me, guns ready in case I decide to pull something.
I don’t bother telling them I won’t.
All eyes are on me as I walk to my seat. I don’t smile or put on an act. I’m done with masks. All I care about now is seeing Fiona.
The Kept are seated together on one side of the room; the Keepers are scattered.
Fiona isn’t in the crowd.
Cole isn’t the type that would lie, so maybe she’s refusing to come. I can’t say I blame her, though I sure would love to see her smile one last time.
I’m brought to a small table in front of a half circle of desks. I take a seat next to Atticus, but I don’t acknowledge him.
Cole goes to the head of the crescent and takes a seat. To the left of him; Gage, Clint, and Merrick are seated. To the right are Kade, Jace, and Blake, who’s just taken his place among those judging me.
Many of them don’t have Kept women yet, which means they’ll be itching to see me go. Which I’m guessing is what Cole wants. This entire ordeal is designed to make an example out of me, so no one else steps a toe out of line.
Atticus leans over to me and whispers, “You’re welcome to speak on your behalf.”
“What, are you my lawyer?”
“Not really. It’s not my job to speak to your innocence. Just to lay out the facts.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re laying out the evidence against me? Because we both know what I’ve done.”
“I think you’ll find my assessment fair.”
Amber approaches Cole, and he leans over, whispering something into her ear. She nods and leaves the room.
It’s probably better that Fiona isn’t here. She doesn’t need to see this. Let her move on. It’s my last wish.
If I’m going to die, it won’t be with the woman I love. It’ll be alone, with only my conscience and the ghost of my sister to keep me company.
As she so often does.
FIONA
Their questions are endless.
My answers, minimal.
They’ve tried to make me feel welcome, introducing me to the Kept women and feeding me well.
I’ve spit in their faces on more than one occasion.
I know Hunter is still alive. They’ve told me as much. But they won’t let me see him.
My whole world is pain.
“You’re needed,” comes Amber’s voice.
Looking over, I see her a few feet away. I hadn’t even heard her enter the apartment, I’m so dazed.
More like depressed.
Knowing that I could have been happy, but I gave it all up for revenge, haunts me.
Why did I have to ask Hunter to torture Brett?
Why did I have to insist on being there?
He said he could do it without me. That it would be safer.
But I had to watch.
“Come on,” Amber urges.
“They can drag me kicking and screaming, if you’d like.”
Amber takes a seat beside me on the couch. “The guys are having a hearing of sorts for Hunter. Something they’re calling a Judicium.”
“Will they let him off?”
“I don’t know what the outcome will be, but if there is a chance he’ll get off, it will come from your testimony, because he’s refusing to talk.”
I’m burning to tell them why Hunter did what he did. That he’s no monster. Or at least not the type they think he is.
The dark seeds that took root deep inside him bloomed beautifully, creating something rarely seen in a thousand lifetimes: justice.
These men think they’re leaders of this new world, keeping law and order, but Hunter had that job before them, in the world we left behind. While they were sleeping comfortably in their beds, he was seeking vengeance for those who could not.
But I can’t tell them that, because it’s not my story to tell. It’s Hunter’s. And the only thing he’s told him is where his safe house was located so that they could take care of the chickens and other critters he had.
“Fuck your Keepers. They have no intention of letting him off. They just want information and they think they can get it this way.”
“That’s not completely true. Some want leniency.”
“And what would that look like?”
She shrugs. “It’s hard to say, but there’s talk of keeping him in the holding indefinitely.”
“Life in prison?” I give a mocking chuckle. “I’m sure Hunter’s begging to be spared. Which is why he’s answering all your questions.”
Amber frowns. “You’re just as stubborn as he is.”
“Will I get to see him before…” I look down at my hands, trying to maintain my composure. I want to scream and shout and commit terrible acts of violence, but seeing Hunter one last time is my greatest wish, and for that to happen, I can’t act like a train wreck.
“He’s at the Judicium right now.”
I swallow hard. “Do you think he wants to see me?”
“Desperately.”
“I can’t speak for Hunter, so nothing I say will help his situation.”
Amber’s forehead creases as her head tilts to the side. “But what if you could?”
“I’m not betraying him.”
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to tell his story. Just tell yours.”
I’ve told the Keepers very little about my past, only going into detail about Caspian, because I want the bastard to burn.
“Why would anything I have to say about my life matter?”
“Hunter mentioned you before, months ago. When the guys were constructing the timeline, they saw he’d called you in, right before the people on Salem Street were slaughtered. Then—nothing. You weren’t mentioned again.”
“Caspian took me.”
“Did Hunter take you from Salem Street?”
Overwhelmed with shame, I look away.
When I don’t answer, she continues with, “We saw what you did. Before you came to the Keep, you’d just finished killing your ex. Now, I don’t know what went on between you two, but some people think you’re a psychopath, like Hunter. Others feel there was a reason you targeted him.”
“What woman doesn’t hate their ex?”
“Fiona, I’m being serious. If I’m correct, you don’t have to betray Hunter to help him. All you have to do is tell your story. The men here are fiercely protective of the women, and if they knew what you went through, or what I believe you went through, they’ll be more forgiving.”
A flicker of hope threatens to ignite.
Hope is dangerous.
Especially when it depends on me. I don’t even know if I can speak to the things that happened to me on Salem Street. I’m too damaged.
“I…I can’t…”
Realization lights Amber’s eyes. “You may not know this, but I was with a group called the Reavers before I came to the Keep. I was…passed around, beaten, kept from my son. I did terrible things. Things they shouldn’t forgive me for. But they have. Mostly.”
Her confession shocks me. I feel her pain as though it were my own.
Because it is my own.
“You think if I told my story, it could help him?”
“You tell me.”
The hope I’d dreaded expands, consuming my thoughts with what ifs and dreams I have no business dreaming.
Telling my story isn’t betraying Hunter. It’s terrible and mortifying and I hate that I have to, but it’s my story, and I’ll tell the world if it could give Hunter a chance.
Rising from my seat, I say a small prayer, begging for strength.
“I’ll tell my story, but don’t you dare ask me for Hunter’s. It’s not mine to tell.”
“Deal.”