Shattered King(48)

Jude might be an ex-cop and a stand-up guy, but he also had some serious  demons riding him, and this fucker sniveling in front of us, with the  criminal record he had? Yeah, I could see Jude was fighting every one of  them.

Jude moved in, a pair of pliers in his hand. Stanley whimpered, struggled, then pissed himself.

"Fucking hate when they do that." Jude muttered.

"You ready to talk, Stan?"

Stanley slumped in my hold. "Yeah, fuck. Yeah, I'll talk."

I dropped his ass back to the floor.

Thank fuck for that.





CHAPTER TWENTY


Lulu

I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling when I heard Hunter come  home. I glanced at the clock. 3:00 a.m. He was talking, no doubt to Van,  who had brought me home after Neco and Zeke had picked up Stanley. The  door shut, then the beep of the alarm came next, followed by his boots  on the hardwood floor moving down the hall.

But instead of coming straight to bed like he usually did, he went to  the bathroom. I heard the shower come on. I needed to know what  happened. I'd been in knots since I left Hunter. I pushed back the  covers. Despite the warm night, I shivered when my feet hit the floor. I  hugged myself, my fingers clutching the soft fabric of Hunter's Ramones  tee at my sides, and padded to the bathroom.

I knocked softly on the door, so I didn't wake Josh. "Hunter?"

Pushing the door open, I walked in. He was already in the shower. My  gaze went to his clothes lying in a heap on the floor. His pale gray  shirt had patches and streaks of deep crimson all over it. I moved  closer to get a better look. Blood.

I gasped and spun around. Hunter was watching me through the glass  shower door. I couldn't see him clearly, so I yanked it open, the soapy  water running down the drain a sickening pink. I scanned his body from  head to toe, frantically searching for injuries. Nothing.

I stood there, watching the water change, until it ran clear. It wasn't his blood.

He shut the shower off and reached for me. "Lulu . . ."

Then I noticed his knuckles. They were busted up. Raw, red, and swollen.  I don't know what I expected. I mean, I knew he hadn't planned to sit  down for a coffee and chat with Stanley, but seeing it, seeing the blood  soaked into Hunter's clothes, the reality of what he'd done hit me  hard.

He stared at me, expression closed off, blue gaze drilling into me. "It had to be done, you know this. There was no other way."

I nodded numbly. "I know."

He climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips. "Come here, Lulu."

I stayed frozen to the spot.

The muscle in his jaw jumped, eyes locked on me, but he didn't say  anything. He didn't have to. This was how it was done. I'd seen Pierce  do it many times. In his world, Hunter's world, it was just part of the  job. My stomach twisted and I spun away, running to the living room.  Suddenly the enclosed space of the bathroom felt suffocating.

The thought of Hunter hurting someone like that? I reached for the back  of the couch. I hated it. It took a level of ruthlessness, an unhealthy  ability to disconnect from your emotions-both things I associated with  my stepfather. I wasn't stupid. I knew Hunter was capable of a lot of  things, things I wouldn't like. I knew not everything he did was  aboveboard, or even legal-but in making the decision to stay with him,  I'd chosen to ignore it. I'd refused to think about what Hunter did for  his job, and now I'd been confronted with it, in a way I couldn't hide  from.

Logically, I knew he was nothing like Pierce, but I'd never wanted to believe Hunter was capable of something like that.

I heard him coming and shot toward the kitchen. I didn't know why I was  running, just that right then I needed to. I got as far as the breakfast  bar when his arms snaked around my waist and I was hoisted up and spun  around. He sat me on the bar, crowding me, arms caging me in. His  closeness forced my legs open, so they hugged his hips, the damp towel  rough against my inner thighs.         

     



 

He stared down at me, expression hard, pissed. "I told you not to run from me."

"Is he . . . ?" Dead. I couldn't finish the sentence out loud.

The muscle in his cheek ticked and his blue gaze got darker, harder.

He shook his head, a subtle movement.

"I didn't think that . . . I . . ." Again, I couldn't finish. We both knew I was lying through my teeth.

"I don't have a normal nine-to-five. Sometimes I need to use force to  get what I want. Tonight was one of those nights. That's something  you're gonna have to get used to. This is my life, my job." He continued  to stare at me. Waiting for me to say something.

"Do you beat people often?" Like that mattered, like occasionally beating or fighting with "bad people" was okay.

"No."

I shivered. Two thoughts shouted the loudest in my head. "You could get hurt."

"I could get hurt," he confirmed.

And the reason I thought I couldn't stay, the reason I'd planned to leave. "What if your job follows you home?" To my son.

His jaw ticked. "I won't let it."

Shit. I sucked in my lip and bit down, eyes closing for several long  seconds, trying to process. He touched my chin, silently telling me to  look at him.

"Babe, my job is high risk, you know that, which is why we are careful.  We do not run into any situation blind. We do our homework. We have each  other's backs. And we sure as fuck don't bring it home. It won't touch  you or Josh."

This terrified me. He was trying to reassure me, but careful would never  be careful enough, not for me. His line of business involved going  after and, occasionally, working with really bad guys. And sometimes, he  beat people to a pulp for information. No matter how he tried to  convince me otherwise-he made enemies. He just . . . did.

I wanted to believe him, but I refused to put my son in danger. I didn't  want him to get attached to a man who could piss off the wrong person  and wind up badly hurt or worse.

If anything happened to Hunter, to Josh . . .

If I lost either one of them . . .

I shook my head, gripping his shirt at his waist. "You can't get hurt." I  couldn't say it out loud, my biggest fear. I couldn't say the word.  "You have to promise me, you won't get hurt. You have to promise me this  won't touch our son."

I don't know what that made me, that I could get past the fact he'd just  beaten someone to extract information, that I'd decided in that moment,  that I could live with it, that I'd believe his promises, as long as  that meant keeping what we had.

But what I couldn't live with was losing him or my son.

His hands moved to either side of my throat, using his thumbs to tip my chin up. "Lulu . . ."

"Promise me."

He searched my face, and though he didn't say it, I knew he could see the fear, the desperation in my eyes.

"I promise," he rasped.

I collapsed against him, squeezing my eyes closed.

We stayed like that for a while, until finally, I lifted my head. "Did you get the information you needed?" I whispered.

"Yes." He gave me a squeeze. "We got a location. The boys are moving in now. Should get a call soon."

I pulled back, stared up at him. "You didn't go."

"We decided it wasn't a good idea for me to be there when they found your stepfather."

He didn't need to say why. It was written all over his face. He also wasn't happy about it.

Hunter lifted me off the counter and carried me back to bed.

I woke several hours later to the sound of his voice. He was sitting up, back to me, phone to his ear.

"Yeah." He listened to whoever was talking, back and shoulders stiff.  "Leave it with me. I'll talk to Tomas." Then he ended the call.

I moved in behind him, coming up on my knees, wrapping my arms around  his shoulders. My heart was pounding like crazy. "Was that Van?"

"Yeah." He grabbed my arm, dragged me around to his front, and lay back on the bed.

"Did they find him?"

He held my stare. "What was left of him."

Everything bunched, tightened inside me. "What?"

"Tomas called before our boys could track Pierce down. His men found a  body. Fucked up so bad they didn't know it was him at first."

My heart was pounding. "Maybe it wasn't?"

"He was wearing a ring. A wide gold band, square sapphire. There was an inscription on it from your mother."

His wedding ring.

He'd chosen it himself. It was gaudy and tasteless, but he always wore  it. Not because of his love for my mother, but because he thought it  made him look like he had money.         

     



 

An avalanche of emotion washed over me. But the one hitting me hardest  in that moment was relief. I sagged against Hunter, my limbs suddenly  weak. He was dead. That sick, sadistic bastard was finally out of our  lives forever.

It might make me a bad person, but I didn't care. Pierce had hurt me. I  wasn't naïve enough to think I was the only person he'd done something  like that to. Only those people hadn't had their own superhero to  protect them like I did. A far as I was concerned, he'd more than  deserved whatever he got.