Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Damien
Hunter staggers toward the door, leaving a trail of blood on Luna’s hardwood floor. As he reaches the threshold, his legs give out. The internal injuries from my kick, combined with the blood loss from Shadow’s attack and the alcohol in his system, finally overwhelm him.
He collapses, tumbling down Luna’s porch steps in a tangle of limbs. His head strikes the bottom step with a sickening crack, and he goes limp.
Luna rushes past me, her medical training overriding everything else.
“Don’t move!”
She hurries down the steps. I follow, watching as she kneels beside him.
Even in the dim porch light, I can see it's too late. Hunter’s breathing is shallow and wet, blood bubbling at his lips.
His eyes are wide with panic, but there’s a growing glassiness to them that speaks of severe internal trauma.
I've seen enough death to know when a body is shutting down.
“Punctured lung.” Luna’s hands move over Hunter’s chest. “Multiple rib fractures, internal bleeding. Possible brain injury.” She presses her fingers to his neck, checking his pulse. She looks up at me, her hazel eyes unreadable. “Pulse is thready.”
I feel nothing. No regret. No concern. Just cold satisfaction that the threat to Luna has been eliminated.
She turns back to Hunter. His breathing comes in wet, labored gasps.
“Caleb, can you hear me?” His eyes drift unfocused, staring past her at nothing.
“Call 911.” She starts CPR. It’s futile, and we both know it. The damage is too extensive. No amount of effort will change that.
“Luna. There’s nothing you can do.”
She ignores me, continuing compressions with desperate movements. Tears stream down her face as she works, but we both know it’s over.
“Luna, stop.” I step closer, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, he’s dead.”
She shoves my hand away, falling back on her heels. Blood from Hunter’s injuries stains her hands and clothes.
“Don’t touch me.”
The words hit like a sledgehammer to the chest. I step back, giving her space as she wipes her bloody hands on her jeans with shaking fingers.
“I need to call Karen.”
“She’s already on her way. Cade called it in when Hunter first showed up.”
“Cade?” Her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. “How did he know to—”
The rhythmic thump of helicopter blades cuts through the night air. We both look up as spotlights sweep across the yard, illuminating the gruesome scene.
“You should go inside and get cleaned up. I’ll handle this.”
“Handle this?” She chokes out, horrified. “Like you handled him? What’s your plan, Damien? Another cover-up? Another body disposal?”
Her accusation cuts deep because it’s accurate. My first instinct is damage control, protection, and elimination of evidence. It’s who I am.
“If necessary.” I won’t lie to her. Not anymore. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The helicopter lands in the gravel parking area in front of the wolf enclosure.
“You killed him!” The words explode from her like shrapnel as she stands. “He’s dead because of you!”
“He’s dead because he threatened you.” I take a step toward her despite her obvious revulsion. “I’d do it again without hesitation.”
She stares at me, her eyes reflecting the porch light like those of a wild animal caught in headlights.
“Jesus Christ, who are you?”
“You know exactly who I am.” I move closer despite her flinch. “I’m the man who hunts and kills the lowest filth. I’m the one who makes you scream night after night. I’m the monster you invited into your bed, Luna.”
“I didn’t invite you, Damien.” Her chin lifts. “You forced your way in.”
I won’t insult her by arguing, won’t add another lie to the mountain I’ve already built.
Cade leaps out of the helicopter before the rotors stop, carrying a large tactical bag. He takes in the scene with a quick, professional assessment.
“I saw the sheriff’s lights as I was on approach. ETA twenty-five minutes at best.” He sets down his bag and pulls out a pair of latex gloves. “What happened exactly?”
I give him a quick rundown. He listens without interruption, his expression growing grimmer with each detail.
Cade glances at Luna, noting her blood-streaked appearance, the bruises on her face, and the way she’s holding herself apart from me.
“Dr. Foster. Are you injured other than those bruises?”
She swallows, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.
“I’m fine.”
Her voice cracks on the last word.
“I need to check on Shadow.” She turns, but Shadow is right there beside her, still on full alert even though he’s injured.
“Wait.” Cade’s voice stops her retreat. “We need to figure out what happens when the sheriff gets here. This scene tells a very specific story.”
Luna’s gaze darts between us, understanding dawning in her eyes. Her chest rises and falls faster. “You want to cover this up?”
“I want to protect you.” I hold her gaze.
“From what? He attacked me. I defended myself—”
“You didn’t kill him. Damien did. And the forensics don’t support self-defense. Hunter’s injuries are too severe and too focused. Any competent investigator will see this as murder.”
Luna exhales, stepping back and twisting the edge of her bloody shirt between her fingers. She stares at Hunter’s still form, then at me, chest heaving. Finally, she meets Cade’s steady gaze.
“So what are you suggesting?”
He reaches into his bag and pulls out several evidence bags containing hair, clothing fibers, and what looks like dried blood. “We redirect the investigation. Make Hunter the perpetrator instead of the victim.”
“What are those?” Luna’s voice comes out strangled.
“Evidence from the other crime scenes. Daryl Rawlings, the Meyers couple, Raymond Davis, among others.”
“Where the fuck did you get those?”
“You don’t clean up as well as you think you do.”
Cade returns his attention to Luna. “We plant this in Hunter’s residence and make it look like he was the one killing them. Frame him as someone cleaning up loose ends by coming after you.”
Her eyes widen. “You want to frame a dead man for those murders?”
“It’s elegant. He had the motive. Ruined by your accusations, desperate to hurt you.
In his twisted mind, killing abusers from your cases, dropping them on your doorstep, and setting it up to look like their deaths were tied to you was the perfect way to hurt you and your reputation before finishing the job personally. ”
Luna’s analytical mind works through the implications.
Horror still grips her. It shows in the tension around her mouth and the rigidity of her spine, but she’s thinking past it now.
She’s smart enough to recognize that this could work.
It could redirect Sheriff Mills’ attention away from me and onto someone who can’t mount a defense or claim he was framed.
But I can’t let her compromise her morals like that. Not for me.
“No. We’re not dragging Luna into this. I’ll take responsibility for what happened here tonight.”
“Damien, no.” Luna’s eyes meet mine, torn between horror and pragmatism. “If you confess to this, that will give Karen the excuse to look into you more closely.”
“I’m a billionaire with the best legal team money can buy. I can survive the scrutiny.”
“I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for me.” Luna’s voice gains strength. She crosses her arms over her chest, shoulders squaring.
“You can’t be serious about this, Luna.”
She meets my eyes, and I see the steel in her gaze. The same determination she shows when she’s fighting to save an injured animal.
“I’m a grown woman, Damien. If we’re going to fix what’s broken between us, you need to trust me to make my own decisions.”
“Luna—”
“No.” She cuts me off before turning to Cade. “What exactly are you proposing?”
Cade pulls out a tablet and swipes through photos. The basement. Stills from my videos. My justice documented frame by frame. Luna's face drains of color.
“What the fuck, Cade.” I angle the tablet away, glaring at him.
Unfazed, he presses on. “Each victim was killed with precise, almost surgical violence. The kind that requires knowledge and planning. But Hunter’s attack tonight was sloppy and desperate.”
“So, we make it look like he was deteriorating.” Luna’s mind works through the logic, her breathing evening out. “The earlier murders were calculated, but by the time he got to me, he was unraveling.”
“Precisely.”
Luna straightens. Her hand moves to her mouth, fingers pressing against her lips like she’s testing the lie on her tongue. “What about his body?”
“What body?” Cade looks between us. “There’s no body.”
I give him a sharp look. “What are you thinking?”
“Simple. Caleb attacked Luna. Luna fought back with Shadow’s help. You showed up, punched him, slammed him into the wall, thought he was out cold. While you were tending to Luna and Shadow, he came to and fled. He’s not dead; he’s on the run.”
Cade strides forward, grabbing Hunter’s ankle. “Help me get him to his truck.” I grab his arms. We hoist the corpse up, and I swing it over my shoulder.
“But the evidence—” Luna steps aside, face drained of color, watching me carry the body toward Hunter’s pickup.
“Goes to his apartment in Boulder.” Cade walks to the back of the Range Rover and pulls a tarp out of the back. “I’ll plant it there after the sheriff leaves. Make it look like he’s been planning this for weeks.”
Luna looks at me. “That still puts you at risk. Especially when Caleb’s body is never found.”
“Let us worry about that, little doe.” I cover the body with the tarp.
“Damien, I swear to God, I’m going to kick you in the balls if you don’t stop calling me that.”
“There’s my girl.”
“I mean it.” Her hand wraps around my wrist. “Isn’t it too risky to have you here? Maybe you should go.”
“Absolutely not. I’m not letting you deal with this on your own.”