Shattered King(91)

I kept my arm around her, my mouth an inch from hers. “Anyone?” We were looking for anyone she thought might help Pierce.

She nodded. “The man in the gray suit. His name’s Stanley. Right after you went to prison, Pierce moved him up the ranks. Him and Derek were his right hands.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted the info to Neco. He was up out of his seat a second later, Zeke close behind, following our mark.

Someone was helping Pierce, someone who for some fucked-up reason still had loyalty for the asshole. Why I didn’t know, but I planned to find out.

Tonight Pierce was going to get what was coming to him, no matter what it took.

* * *

I stood over Stanley, the fucker cowering on the floor, blood and other shit pouring from his twisted nose, arm hanging at an odd angle. I had no idea why the idiot wouldn’t give Pierce up. It wasn’t like his boss gave two shits about him or any of the members of his small army. I would usually respect that kind of loyalty. The guy had taken a beating and had kept his mouth firmly closed.

But giving your loyalty to a man like Pierce was just plain stupid. Stanley was a low piece of shit, which was another reason his silence surprised me. The guy had a rap sheet a mile long, crimes that included time inside for taking his fists to his woman and daughter. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over my chosen brand of encouragement. As far as I was concerned, the guy more than deserved what he was getting.

I wanted Lulu and Josh safe, wanted to start our lives together without the constant threat of Pierce Carson springing out of the woodwork and hurting my family. Destroying our lives all over again.

I was done.

Gripping the guy’s hair, I tugged him to his feet, then glanced over my shoulder to the bored-looking bastard leaning against the wall.

“You done, Hunt?” Jude asked. “Is it my turn yet?”

“Yeah, brother, get your tools. I’m done fucking around.”

Stanley jerked in my hold, eyes going wide like fucking saucers in his head. “W-what? Tools?”

I met the guy’s wild stare, let him see all the anger, the hatred inside me, the part of me that would do anything to keep Lulu and Josh safe and not bat a fucking eyelid. “Jude here is a master at extracting information. He’s good at what he does and enjoys the hell out of it. Isn’t that right, Jude?”

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.”