Shattered King(51)

"That was Jude. He's been tracking something. He's located it, but needs back up."

I shoved my hair back from my face and shot up into a sitting position. "Why do you need a gun?"

He was pulling on a jacket and paused at my words.

"Babe." He came toward me. "You know why."

I did. All too well.

"It's just a precaution. There's nothing to worry about."

If there was nothing to worry about, he wouldn't be wearing a gun. "Is this a retrieval, this job?"

"Lulu . . ."

"So you're going to break into some criminal's place and steal whatever it is back?"

That muscle in his jaw jumped. "Yes," he said, not sugarcoating it.

I sat up fully. He'd told me some of what he did, but we'd never gone  into great detail. I had my suspicions. I knew it was dangerous, knew he  skimmed the line where the law was concerned, and I'd tried not to  dwell on it, to not let it get to me. But now, again faced with it,  there was no hiding from the truth. It was in front of me sticking out  of the waistband of his jeans. "That must make you a lot of enemies," I  said, mouth so dry I had trouble swallowing.

He came around to my side of the bed, planted one hand in the mattress,  and leaned in. "I told you, you have nothing to worry about."

I didn't miss that he hadn't answered my question.

"I don't want you to go." I hated myself for saying it for being so damn needy, but I had a bad feeling.

He cupped my jaw in his hand and slid his thumb up to my ear and back.  "This is my job, Lulu. I'm trying to be honest with you here, about what  I do. You need to find a way of dealing with it."

My hand went to his abs and I gripped his shirt, scowling up at him. "Is that right?"

He cursed. "We'll talk more when I get home."

I fisted the fabric tighter, didn't want to let him go. "Hang on a minute . . ."

"Gotta go, babe."

Shit. "Right."

His fingers threaded through my hair, and he fisted it, tilted my head  back, and kissed me. It wasn't a goodbye kiss; it was a  "we'll-finish-this-later" kiss. Hard and deep and wet with lots of  tongue. Then he pulled back and I was forced to let him go.

He shoved on his boots, then moved back, dragged the covers down, kissed  my bare hip then pulled them back up, tucking them around me.

And walked out the door.

I heard the beep of the alarm then the front door close behind him.

Goddammit.

I lay there for a few minutes before I pulled back the covers and  climbed out of bed. Slipping on Hunter's shirt, I buttoned it up and  rolled back the sleeves. No way would I get back to sleep now, not with  the way my belly churned, the way my heart pounded. I'd had more nights  than I could remember feeling like this, curled up in whatever shitty  apartment Josh and I were living in, afraid the door would be busted in  at any moment, that Pierce would find us.

God, I didn't want to feel this way anymore. Scared out of my mind, afraid for the ones I loved.

I dragged the comforter off the bed, and padded to Josh's room to check  on him. He was fast asleep, thumb in his mouth. Going by the small smile  on his lips, he was dreaming good things. I brushed his hair back from  his face and kissed his soft, warm cheek. That's all I wanted for my  son, to have good dreams. No more nightmares. Real or imagined.

I left him sleeping, and headed down the hall. Light from the street  filtered into the living room, washing the whole place in a multi  colored glow. I flicked on the TV, slumped onto the couch, and dragged  the comforter over me. Catfish reruns were on, so I settled back to  watch. Anything to keep my mind off what Hunter might be doing at that  moment.

Is this what my life would be from now on? Sitting in the dark, waiting  for him to come home, hoping like hell that when he did, he'd still be  in one piece?

That the bad guys didn't follow him here when he did.

He said I had to get used to it, find a way of dealing with it, with the  danger-the dangerous people-he dealt with every time he walked out the  door.

Right then, curled up on the couch, sick to my stomach with fear, I didn't know if I could.         

     



 



"Come here, baby, you've got jam all over you." I lifted Josh onto the  bathroom cabinet and went to town on his grubby little face and hands.  He'd slept in, which was appreciated, since it took hours for me to  finally fall asleep on the couch after Hunter left, and what little  sleep I did have was restless.

It was after ten a.m. and I still hadn't heard from him, so I was doing everything I could to distract myself.

I wanted to call him desperately, but I wouldn't let myself. First, I  didn't want to come across as overly needy, and second, if he was still  busy with the bad guys, I didn't want to distract him from whatever he  was doing.

I picked Josh up, gave him a squishy hug, and carried him out to the living room. "How about we bake a cake?"

He clapped his hands. "Chocolate!"

"Why not." Anything that would occupy my mind and keep me busy was a good thing.

Josh was still on my hip and I'd just started pulling out ingredients,  when the door opened and Hunter walked in. Van right behind him.

Josh lit up, his smile full and beautiful as soon as he saw them. He  wriggled in my arms to get down so he could go to Hunter, but I held on  as I stood frozen, supporting my son with one hand, a carton of eggs in  the other. "What happened?" I demanded.

"I'm okay." Hunter held up a hand, a placating gesture, and his jacket  slipped off one shoulder. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his arm only in one  sleeve. He had a thick bandage around his upper arm, shoulder, and  across his chest. He also had a bruised and cut cheek, the cut held shut  with those little clear strips.

He took a step toward me and I took a step back. "You're not okay."

Van moved in before I knew what was happening. He took the eggs out of  my hand and placed them on the counter. He reached for Josh, but I shook  my head and took another step back. I hit the counter behind me. "You  promised," I said.

"Fuck," Hunter muttered, shoved the jacket off the rest of the way, and then started across the room toward me.

I couldn't back up any farther. It was stupid, but right then I wanted  to run, wanted to be anywhere but there, confronted with my worst  nightmare. I watched, eyes fixed on that bright white bandage as he got  closer. He rested the hand of his uninjured arm on the counter beside my  hip. "Look at me, Lulu."

I forced my gaze away from his bandage. "You promised," I repeated. I  knew what I was saying was ridiculous, but I couldn't stop the words  coming out of my mouth.

His hand went to my waist, thumb going up underneath my shirt, brushing across bare skin. "I'm okay."

"You're not." My eyes dropped to his shoulder. "That is not okay."

"It went right through," Van said. "He'll be good as new, two, three weeks max."

"What went through?"

Hunter swung to his brother, a scary look on his face, at the same time Van answered, "The bullet."

I felt my knees go weak, blood rushing through ears. "A bullet," I choked, throat suddenly dry. "Someone shot you?"

"What the fuck, Van?" Hunter growled.

Van winced, lifted his hand to the back of his neck. "Shit."

Hunter's hand was still at my hip. He fisted the fabric of my shirt. "Give Josh to Van and let's go talk about this."

"No." I shook my head again. This was my biggest fear, now my reality.  No, scratch that-my biggest fear was instead of his shoulder, it hit his  chest, and he wasn't standing in front of me scowling, he was in some  hospital morgue, cold and lifeless. I'd already lost my father and my  mother. I couldn't lose anyone else. God, not Hunter.

I'd lost him once and nearly didn't survive it. I couldn't lose him again. Not like that.

He let go of my shirt and reached for Josh. Josh whimpered and curled  into me, big blue eyes locked on Hunter's cut cheek. Hunter's eyes  drifted shut, and when they opened, they were softer, gentle.

He ran his hand over Josh's soft hair. "It's just a scratch, bud."  Hunter turned to Van, communicated something with a look, and Van  instantly reached for Josh. Josh lifted his arms, went to him without  hesitation, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck. Van carried  him out of the living room, down to his bedroom to play.

Hunter looked at me, gaze searching. "Babe . . ."

"I can't do this," I said before I fully knew what was going to come out of my mouth.

"This isn't something that happens often, Lulu. Yeah, Jude and I ran  into some trouble, but we had it under control. We got what we went for.  It's done."         

     



 

"You had it under control?" I said in disbelief. "You got shot!"

He held my gaze. "It's a risk we take doing this job, but, babe, this  does not happen every week, this was just bad luck," he said, trying to  play it down, but at the same time confirming my fears. And no matter  how he tried to spin it, he couldn't deny the fact-it happens. Bullets  flew. People got shot.