Chapter 7
Hunter
The prison smelled distinctly of bad coffee, the kind that sat too long on a burner and turned to sludge. The visitation room wasn’t much better in terms of improving morale—just rows of metal stools bolted to the floor in front of thick glass partitions, the phone receiver dangling on either side. I took a seat in one of the booths, pulling the brim of my cap lower.
Slouched shoulders. Loose posture. A man waiting for someone but not eager about it.
I looked like half the guys in here—tired, unimportant, forgettable. That was the point.
A heavy door buzzed open, and a guard led Caleb Moyer into the room. The man moved with the weight of too many years inside, his orange jumpsuit hanging off lean muscle. His dark gaze swept the room before landing on me. Confusion first, then wariness. He wasn’t expecting company.
I didn’t move as he lowered himself onto the chair across from me, his eyes narrowing. He picked up the phone on his side but didn’t speak. Just waited.
I grabbed the receiver on my end. “Caleb.”
“Who the hell are you?” His voice was rough, edged with suspicion.
I let a pause stretch before answering. “Hunter. I’m a friend of Jada’s.”
His expression didn’t change at the mention of his sister, but his grip on the receiver tightened. “Yeah? Never heard of you.”
“That’s not surprising.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine, searching. A man who had lived too many years watching his own back, always looking for the angle. “Where is she?”
I’d expected that question first. It came sharp, demanding. Not hopeful. Like he already knew the answer would be bad.
“She wasn’t available to come.”
His jaw tightened, the muscle in his cheek jumping. “That’s not what I asked.”
I leaned back slightly, keeping my voice even. “I know.”
For a second, he didn’t speak. Just studied me, weighing every inch of what I wasn’t saying. Then he exhaled sharply and leaned forward. “Why are you really here?”
I debated how much to give him. Caleb Moyer wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t harmless either. I’d seen his rap sheet. He’d earned his time in here. But he was still Jada’s brother. The only family she had.
I lifted the receiver a little higher. “Because Jada’s in trouble.”
Caleb’s gaze sharpened at my words, but I didn’t let him interrupt.
“She was injected with something. Some sort of memory-loss drug,” I said, voice low but firm. “She doesn’t remember anything. Not who she is. Not what she’s done. Not even you.”
I saw the exact second it registered. His whole body stiffened, fingers clenching the receiver so tight his knuckles went white. Then he lunged forward, stopping just short of smashing his forehead against the glass.
“What the hell did you just say?”
“She has no memory, Caleb.” I kept my voice calm, steady, but inside, my gut was twisting. “The drug wiped everything.”
“ Fuck. ” He exhaled hard, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re telling me she took—” He cut himself off, inhaled through his nose, face grim. “You don’t just walk that shit off, man! That drug—” He broke off again, shaking his head.
My stomach knotted. “What do you know about it?”
Caleb’s lips pressed together, his jaw tight with frustration. “It’s bad. Worse than bad. On the street, people call it Blank Space . It was supposed to be some next-level eraser—make people forget whatever you wanted. Problem is, it’s unstable. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it kills people.”
Cold, sharp dread curled in my chest. “Could it still kill her?”
His expression darkened. “I don’t know.”
Not good enough. Not even close. “Is there an antidote?”
“Not that I ever heard.” He exhaled sharply. “I never touched that shit, man. But there’s someone who might know.”
I waited.
Caleb leaned in, voice low. “Guy’s name is Zeke, but he goes by Copper . Runs in South Denver. If anyone knows about this crap, it’s him. But I don’t want my sister anywhere around him. How the hell did this happen? For fuck’s sake, please tell me she didn’t take it herself.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Alan Ard injected her with it.”
The second the name left my mouth, Caleb reacted. His fist slammed against the table, hard enough to make the glass between us shudder. A sharp curse tore from his lips. The guard at the far end of the room glanced over, but I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
“I told her to stay away from that son of a bitch,” Caleb seethed, his voice low but thick with fury. “I told her he was bad fucking news from the beginning.”
“She didn’t listen,” I said. “And now she’s paying the price.”
Caleb’s nostrils flared, his breathing uneven as he tried to rein himself in. His fingers twitched where they rested on the table, like he wanted to wrap them around Alan’s throat.
“He’s back in here,” I said, watching him closely. “Got re-arrested. He’s facing trial for multiple attempted murders.”
Caleb let out a slow breath, but his fury didn’t ease. If anything, it settled into something harder. Colder. “I heard something about that,” he muttered. “Didn’t know the details.” His jaw clenched. “Figures. He’s going away for good this time. Deserves it.”
I didn’t disagree. Alan Ard deserved worse than a prison cell.
I pushed back my chair, feeling the significance of the conversation settling deep in my chest. There was nothing more Caleb could tell me—not about the drug, not about an antidote. Now, it was on me to track down Copper and start getting real answers.
I was about to hang up the receiver when Caleb spoke again.
“What’s your deal with Jada?”
I paused, my grip tightening slightly. “Just trying to help.”
Caleb’s gaze stayed on mine, like he was measuring the weight of my words. Then, slowly, he nodded. “She’s got no one else,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Our home life wasn’t great growing up.” His mouth pressed into a thin line. “Mom was a piece of work. Mean as hell. And Jada…she took the worst of it.”
I stayed silent, letting him talk.
“She wanted something good,” he continued, his tone raw. “Something better than what we had. Alan? He played her like a goddamn fiddle. Told her what she wanted to hear. Made her think he loved her.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “She was so damn excited about him. About the idea that someone actually wanted her.”
I clenched my jaw. I could picture it too easily. A girl who’d been beaten down her whole life, desperate for someone to see her, to choose her. And Alan, the bastard, had used that desperation like a weapon.
Caleb’s eyes flicked back to mine. “Now, she’s alone again.”
No, she wasn’t.
I straightened, meeting his gaze head on. “I’ll do what I can.”
Caleb studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Good.”
The guard called time, stepping forward to haul Caleb back. He didn’t fight it, just shot me one last look before disappearing through the secured door.
I stepped out of the prison, the cool air hitting me as I made my way to my truck. The meeting with Caleb had given me more questions than answers, but at least I had a lead. Copper . A name to chase down. A direction.
But as soon as I stepped outside, I realized I was wasting an opportunity while I was here. Alan Ard was in this prison too. I knew he was a bastard, but bastards talked when they thought they had the upper hand. If there was even the smallest chance he knew something about the drug—or an antidote—I needed to hear it from him.
I leaned against the side of my truck and pulled out my phone. Jace answered on the first ring.
“Get what you need from Moyer?”
“To a degree. A punk drug dealer to track down. But I thought, while I’m here, I should kill two birds with one visit and go see Alan Ard. Can you get me on his list under a different name?”
Jace exhaled through his nose. “Give me two minutes.”
I waited, watching a group of men in jumpsuits being led across the yard beyond the razor-wire fence. Two minutes later exactly, my phone vibrated.
“You’re in,” Jace said. “Welcome to your new identity, Roger Crane. Try not to get arrested.”
I hung up and pulled off my cap, shoving it into the truck. Then I swapped my shirt for one in the back seat—gray button-down instead of navy T-shirt, nothing special. The key wasn’t the clothes. It was me .
I straightened my shoulders, squared my stance. Let my movements loosen, like I had all the time in the world. Instead of keeping my head down, I looked people in the eye. Made sure there was a hint of amusement in my gaze, like I knew something they didn’t.
I pulled a pack of gum from my pocket, popped a stick into my mouth.
Then I walked back inside. The same guard who checked me in an hour ago barely looked up. Didn’t recognize me at all. I shot him a grin. “Busy day?”
He sighed. “Aren’t they all?”
I chuckled, shaking my head like we were two guys shooting the shit. And just like that, I was in.
Alan Ard walked into the visitation room with a cocky swagger that didn’t belong to a man in cuffs. His orange jumpsuit was wrinkled, the collar stretched, and the bruises on his jaw and cheekbone had deepened to an ugly mix of purple and green. Someone had gotten to him. Good.
He dropped onto the metal chair across from me, squinting like he was trying to place me. I leaned back in my seat, working my gum slowly, watching him. Letting him come to his own conclusions.
He picked up the receiver. I lifted mine, resting my elbow on the table like I had all the time in the world.
His lip curled, the split in the corner reopening slightly. “You don’t look like a lawyer.”
I smirked, tilting my head. “Do I look like I give a shit about your legal problems?”
That got a reaction. He let out a short, humorless chuckle. “Fair enough. So, who the hell are you?”
I exhaled through my nose, like I was debating whether I wanted to talk. Then I gave him just enough. “Someone who’s got a problem with Caleb Moyer.”
That flipped a switch. His entire posture shifted forward, his interest piqued. He liked that. Bastard. Alan Ard was the type of guy who thrived on having enemies, fed off conflict like it gave him a reason to exist.
His smirk widened. “Moyer’s a cockroach. Him and his sister.” His tone turned mocking. “Well…his sister was . She’s as good as dead now. You know, from what I hear.”
My fingers curled under the table, but I forced my expression to stay neutral. Stay calm. Let him talk.
Alan watched me, like he was waiting for me to react, then gave a slow shake of his head. “You didn’t think I’d still be keeping tabs? Jada got herself fucked up , man. Dumb girl thought I actually gave a shit about her.” He snorted, his grin widening. “Nah, she was just useful . I needed her to handle Kenzie. That’s it.”
My jaw locked. I breathed deep through my nose. I would not give him the satisfaction of any sort of reaction.
“You used her,” I said, keeping my voice level.
He spread his hands, the chain on his cuffs clinking against the table. “And it worked. Right up until she decided to grow a conscience. That’s when she got herself into real trouble.”
I forced my fingers to unclench. Forced myself to lean back and feign boredom. “That drug, the memory one,” I said, voice casual. “Where’d you get it?”
Alan narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping in. “Why? You looking for some?” His grin turned sharp. “I don’t have any left, but I could point you to the right people—for a price.”
“Not looking to buy,” I said easily. “Just wondering how it works.”
He scoffed. “All you need to know is no one comes back from that shit.” He flicked a glance at me, trying to read my angle. “Why? You worried about little Jada?”
I didn’t blink. “Just making sure it’s permanent.”
He leaned forward, lowering his voice like we were sharing a secret. “Oh, it’s permanent. And even if, if , by some miracle it can be reversed? Jada’s got nothing left. No past, no future, no one who gives a shit.” His voice turned smug. “That’s worse than being dead.”
My fingers twitched. I let myself imagine slamming his face into the glass between us. Let myself picture the blood, the sound of breaking bone. How good it would feel.
But I forced my hands to stay loose, forced my breath to stay even. “What about an antidote?”
His smirk faltered just a fraction. “An antidote?” He snorted. “Good luck. Ain’t one.”
I studied him. “You sure about that?”
Alan scoffed. “Look, I don’t know, and I don’t care. If Jada hadn’t been such an interfering little bitch, I wouldn’t be back in here. She deserves what she got, and yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure it’s permanent.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t let a single emotion show. But deep inside, something cold twisted in my gut. If he was telling the truth, then Jada’s memories were gone forever.
Alan grinned at me, mistaking my silence for acceptance. “Hell, maybe you’re better off. If you had some kind of beef with her, consider it settled. She’s a ghost now. Irony is, she went and bought the drug herself. Wasn’t like I could get it delivered to me in here.”
I stared at him. Just long enough to make the smile slip from his face, just long enough for unease to flicker in his eyes.
Then I smirked, stood up, and hung up the receiver. This bastard deserved to rot in here forever. I would make sure the Resting Warrior Ranch team did whatever they could to make that happen.
He was a dead end, and I wouldn’t waste any more time on him. If Jada never got her memories back, then not having any recollection of this asshole would be the one benefit.
Now, it was time to find Copper.