Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
HUNTER
Song- Burning Down, Alex Warren
Wyatt is in bed. Rex curled up beside him, chin on his ankle, one ear twitching in his sleep.
My brothers are in the barn office, going over the police documents. Ace already pinned up a map to the wall like this is a war room. Because it is.
And I’m here on my own in the living room. Nursing a whiskey in the dark, staring at the dying embers in the fireplace like they might rearrange themselves into an answer.
Part of me wants to get out there and tear this case apart with my bare hands. But I know I have to play the game. Do this the right way. Because someone out there is watching. Waiting for me to slip up.
And I won’t.
I hear the car before I see it. An engine approaching on the gravel, headlights sweeping across the front windows.
I set my glass down and stand. Could be Reese. Could be my cousins coming back. But the hairs on the back of my neck are already standing, so I grab my gun from the side table and head to the front door.
By the time I open it, she’s there.
Standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Barefoot on my gravel. No jacket. No shoes. Her hair tangled around her face, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold her own body together.
Even in the dim glow of the porch light, I can see the blood. It’s smeared on her face. On her hands.
Her tears.
She doesn’t say a word at first. She just looks up at me. And I have never seen a person look so completely shattered while still standing upright.
“I know you told me to stay away. To forget you ever existed.” Her voice splinters on the last word. “But, Hunter… I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve got nowhere to go, and I need you.”
I don’t hesitate.
I set the gun on the bench by the door, and I’m down those steps before my brain has caught up with my legs. I wrap my arms around her carefully. Not too tight, not yet, because I don’t know where she’s hurt. I pull her against my chest, and I hold her. I hold her like she’s my entire world.
And she breaks.
Sobs that come from somewhere so deep they shake her entire body. I feel her pain. Her hurt. All of it. And I want to take it all from her.
Her fingers claw into the fabric of my shirt, and she presses her face against me.
I stroke her hair. Press my lips to the top of her head. Hold her. Trying to do what I can to make her feel safe.
“I’ve got you, firefly. I’ve got you.” I say it over and over. Until the sobs slow to shudders and the shudders fade to trembling, and she’s just breathing against me.
When I pull back to look at her, I cup her cheek with my hand.
She flinches. At the lightest touch. The gentlest press of my palm against her skin.
She fucking flinches.
Rage consumes me. It floods through my bloodstream like gasoline catching a spark so violent I have to lock every muscle in my body to keep from shaking with it.
Blood on her face. Blood on her hand.
Her wrist is swollen, and there’s a bruise already forming on the side of her hip where her shirt has ridden up.
“Lola.” I keep my voice steady. I owe her that. “I just need to know one thing. Who fucking did this to you, baby? Who hurt you?”
She stares into my eyes. Past them. Into something deeper than I knew was there.
And she says one word.
“Reese.”
My heart damn near stops.
I grit my teeth so hard I feel the pressure in my skull. The furious part of me is screaming at me to get in my truck, drive to his apartment, and put a twelve-gauge slug through the door before he can open it.
But I don’t.
Because she’s standing in front of me barefoot and bleeding, and she came here. She didn’t call the cops. She didn’t run to a stranger. She got in her car, and she drove to me. Because I can keep her safe.
So I nod. “Let’s get you inside, baby.”
I lift her into my arms. She doesn’t fight me. Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t tell me she can walk. She just lets her head fall against my shoulder and lets me carry her through the front door and into the warmth of my home.
I lay her down on the couch. Grab the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink and kneel beside her. “Tell me where it hurts, Lola.”
She takes a shaky breath. Her body is still trembling; little aftershocks are probably running through her. “I—I think most of it will just be bruises. But there might be some glass in my hand.”
I hiss out a breath as I carefully turn her palm over in mine. There are small shards embedded along the edge of her palm. It shouldn’t need stitches, but it needs cleaning.
“I’ll get this cleaned up, okay? It might sting a little bit. Then it’ll be fine.”
She nods and bites her lip. And I can see her holding something back, the words building behind her teeth that she’s scared to let out.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I know this is awkward for you. He’s your friend. I promise I’m not lying. If I had somewhere else to go, I would have. I know you didn’t want to be involved with me anymore.”
Jesus fuck. Lola.
I shake my head. Set down the tweezers. Look her dead in the eye.
“You came to the right place. I promise you, firefly, you belong here. With me.” I let that sink in before I say the rest. “And as for him… he ain’t no friend of mine now.”
She swallows hard. I cup her cheek and wipe the tears away with my thumb. “He’s going to regret ever laying a hand on you, baby. I’m going to make sure that asshole can only eat his momma’s dinners with a straw. He’s going to pay for this.”
Her eyes go wide. Full of fear. But underneath it, buried deep, I see it.
Darkness.
That part of her that wants me to make Reese suffer for what he’s done.
Good. That is exactly how the world should work. Men who lay hands on women should feel the pain tenfold. Or fucking die for it.
Because weak men like that, the ones who pick on women because they’re not man enough to face their own hard truths. They’re fuckin’ cowards. Disgusting pieces of shit who don’t deserve to breathe.
“Thank you, cowboy,” she breathes.
“Don’t thank me, pretty girl. I’m doing what any real man should.”
She sucks in a breath and glances away, like she can’t take the weight of what I’m giving her. So I press my finger gently under her chin and turn her back to me.
“If it’s any consolation, he might not be able to have kids anymore, and I may have run him over with my car a little bit,” she tells me with a half grin.
“A little bit?” I smirk.
She nods.
“That’a girl. I’ll finish the rest, okay.”
She takes a deep breath. “Okay, Hunter.”
I need her to look at me for this. I need her to see that what I’m about to say isn’t comfort or adrenaline or something I’ll take back in the morning.
“If Reese hit any woman, I’d hurt him so bad he’d never think about doing it again.
” I pause. She nods. “But for laying a hand on you? My firefly?” I hold her gaze.
“That suffering is going to make him wish he never even glanced in your direction.”
Her eyes flutter closed. I lean in and rest my forehead against hers.
The truth settles over me, and I can’t hide from it anymore.
I can’t kill him. I need him as my lawyer because I need to stay out of jail. She needs me free. Wyatt needs me free. And I need to fight like hell to be there for both of them.
But I’m going to teach that motherfucker a lesson. And the warning is going to be so clear he’ll feel it in his bones every time he so much as thinks about her name. And once he’s kept me out of prison... I’ll put a bullet through his head. Because that is the punishment he deserves.
Best friend or not. No friend of mine behaves like this and gets away with it.
“Your firefly, hmm?” she mutters against my skin, knocking me back to reality and away from thoughts of strangling my best friend to death.
I chuckle. The sound surprises me. “I think fate is pushing us together for a reason, don’t you?”
“Does that mean you’re my cowboy then?”
I brush my nose against hers. My hand cups her face like she’s the most delicate thing I’ve ever held. “I was yours the first time you looked in my direction, Lola.”
A tiny gasp escapes her. Barely a sound. But I feel it against my lips.
And even though my life is detonating around me. Murder charges, a dead ex, a war I can’t see the edges of. Even then, a piece of it just healed by having her in my home.
I want to be the place that gives her safety.
I’m going to make damn sure I am.