Hunter (17 page)

I didn't know where the words came from. They exploded out of me with the force of a bomb. They were uncontrollable and harsh, but I knew deep inside me that they were true.

My life wasn't a game.

My family wasn't a game.

I wasn't going to be a pawn anymore.

I was done playing. The fucking waltz my father had me playing was going to end—and the final one-two-three would be mine.

Hunter reached up, his eyes hardening, and grasped my hand. The one that had wound itself inside the fabric of his shirt. “Understood.
Boss.
”

I tugged him toward me, my lips curving up. “That's
Principessa
to you,
Cacciatore.”

His hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “In that case, doubly understood,
Principessa.
”

I glanced up and met his eyes. “Good.”

Our lips were dangerously close when I heard, “Fucking hell. She's Alexandria two-point-oh.”

I jerked back from Hunter and looked at Isaiah. I looked at his hands, but he wasn't holding any kind of weapon. In fact, he looked relieved. “I don't understand.”

He grinned. “Dar.”

Darien appeared from behind him, and in that moment, they looked like twins. He sighed and sadness glinted in his gaze. “Twenty-two years ago, when you were no more than a baby, your mother's reign over the family was questioned. She couldn't perform her full duties as head of the family with a baby. She needed to marry your father, and you know what she did,
bambina
?” He smiled. “She pinned your father to the wall, a gun to his neck, and demanded he married her.”

“And he did,” Isaiah continued. “He had no choice. He married her in that moment, or she swore she'd shoot him. And despite this one's skills,” he cocked a thumb toward Hunter, “if you wanted to kill him, I'd have no doubt you'd have that gun out of that bag and to his head quicker than he could draw his.”

I snapped my eyes from Isaiah to Hunter. His hand was at his hip, and I elbowed him before snatching the very same pistol he'd just tried to grip. I aimed it at his breastbone, and he held his arms up to the sound of both Darien and Isaiah's raucous laughter.

“You won't shoot it,” Hunter says with a quiet laugh.

“Won't I?” My words were like stone, and he stilled as my finger tightened over the trigger. “Maybe I'm not like you. Maybe I'm stronger.”

Hunter reached out and wrapped his fingers around the barrel of the gun. “So do it.”

A gunshot fired.

I lied.

Several fired.

My heart stopped.

My world shattered like a glass.

Blood and tears streamed.

Hunter knocked the gun from my hand and pulled me to the ground. I gasped as my chest hit the carpet, but he reached forward and pressed a finger to his lips as several other shots rang out.

“Get up and run,” he ordered, tugging at me. He snatched up the pistol and tugged me behind me. “Fuck, Is, run!” he yelled, shoving me.

I understood.

I grabbed the bag and ran.

I ran like fucking hell down the hall.

Hunter followed, his arm outstretched, bullets firing from his gun.

“Dar—Isaiah,” I breathed.

“I don't know. Just fucking run!” his voice was so loud it echoed, louder than the shots that echoed off the walls.

I whimpered as I saw a bullet ricochet off the hallway wall, millimeters from where I'd just been standing. Hunter's arm flew out and slammed into me. I barely stayed on my feet long enough to pull the 9mm out of my bag and shoot it.

I watched as the bullet pierced the chest of a man in black and he dropped to the floor.

“Addy,” Hunter rasped, “Can we get out?”

I looked around. We'd backed into my room. “Yes.”

“Then get us the fuck out.”

I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the window. I shot at the door when I heard Darien yell, followed by a gunshot. My heart tightened, but Hunter shoved the glass pane open before I could yell my annoyance.

He jumped out onto the garage roof and held his hand out for me. I had no choice, so I grasped the rucksack tightly and followed him out. I stopped to shut the window after me, and he said nothing as he jumped off the rood and tucked his gun into his hip.

I put my own pistol back inside the bag, clicking the safety on before I did, and jumped into his arms.

He caught me, lowering me to the ground softer than I would have expected, and placed a helmet on top of my head quickly.

Oh fuck me.

She looked terrified.

The bravado and determination she'd shown just minutes ago had quickly morphed into a 'fucking run' instinct that radiated from her with her fear. Her bright blue eyes were wide with shock, as though she couldn't believe what was happening.

I gripped her hand tightly. I'd parked my bike just away from the house for a reason, and this was it.

I didn't trust Isaiah either.

“What about—”

“He'll be fine,” I said to her, taking the bag she'd been holding so tightly for so long and hooking the straps over her arms. I hoped I wasn't lying to her. “Get on behind me.”

A noise that resembled a tortured cat eeked out of her mouth.

“No offense, Adriana, but the bike is less likely to kill you than the fuckers in there.” I got on and patted the seat behind me.

“Fine.” She wasn't happy about it, but when another gunshot shattered a window somewhere, she leaped onto the back and wrapped her arms around my waist. “A car is safer!” she yelled when I kick-started the bike.

“And slower! Hold on tight.”

She screamed as I revved the bike to full power and we took off. Her grip around my waist was almost suffocating, and if this weren't a life or fucking death situation, I'd be thinking about the way her tits were pressing against my back.

Fuck, maybe I was. A little. Even in the face of potential death, I was still a guy, and she was still insanely fucking sexy.

The gates were open when we reached the edge of the community, and although I couldn't hear anyone following us, I wasn't dumb enough to think we were anywhere near safe. The bike wasn't exactly the quietest or most inconspicuous vehicle. They'd know instantly who'd taken her and what to look for.

I needed to get us to a rental place and switch for a car.

The only problem was getting to the rental place.

Adriana pressed her face into my back as we sped through the city, weaving in and out of traffic. I glanced in my mirror and saw another bike behind us. It looked to be following the same path I was, and red flags popped up instantly in my mind.

I clenched my jaw. Shit. I really didn't want to risk shooting blindly—especially not with Addy behind me, and it wasn't like I could get her in front of me to drive.

She was right. We should have gotten a car.

Too late now.

“Don't panic, okay?” I said back to her, reaching inside my jacket.

“For what?” she shrieked, clearly panicking.

“This.” I reached behind me, used the mirror to aim, and shot.

“Fuck, Hunter!”

I didn't hit the guy on the bike, but I was close enough that he swerved and almost lost control of his bike. Too many cars got between us for me to take another shot, so I tucked the gun into Adriana's hand at my stomach and focused on driving.

I needed to get us somewhere safe. And quickly.

Unfortunately, I couldn't go much quicker than I was, and there was a red light coming up.

Fuck it. It was probably the best law I was gonna break today. In my life, if I was honest with myself.

I had no idea where we were going. I wasn't familiar with California at all, and I couldn't exactly pull out my phone and map a route to somewhere safe, mostly because I had no fucking idea where 'safe' was.

Where the fuck
was
'safe?'

I drove. I didn't know where I was going or what was going to happen, but I knew I needed to get as far as away from Calabasas as possible. Somewhere busy. Somewhere we could hide out for the shortest amount of time—where even Enzio's fuckhead idiots wouldn't dare touch her.

We whizzed past a sign that told me we'd traveled so far that we were only five miles outside of downtown Los Angeles.

That answered my question.

I got into the right lane and turned off. When we came to stop at a light, I took the gun from Adriana and tucked it back into my jacket. Driving around downtown L.A with a gun in her hand struck me as a pretty stupid idea, and I wasn't in the habit of stupid ideas. Unless you counted not shooting the girl currently on the back of my bike—and I didn't.

“Look out for a rental place,” I said behind her as the lights changed.

I vaguely heard her “Okay,” as I revved the bike and wound in and out of the cars. The traffic was so insane it made New York City seem like an empty highway to nowhere. This was both good and bad for us. Bad because we seemed to stop more than we moved, but good because there were so many bikes that we'd be hard to pick out.

Thank god for the plain black bag Adriana had.

It felt like an hour had passed by the time we finally made it into the center and drove past a rental store. I pulled up outside it, but I hadn't even killed the engine when I heard Adriana protest.

“No. Three blocks away, on Century Boulevard,” she said, her hands twitching on my abs. “The Pontarelli's run it. I need to get a message to them if they don't already know.”

My stomach clenched at the name—or maybe it was just the way she gripped my t-shirt and her nails lightly scratched me—but I nodded and pushed off again, seamlessly flowing back into the traffic. I understood, but I didn't like it.

At least I understood, I reasoned with myself. I didn't have to. I could have refused until she ordered me to, but I wasn't going to take orders from her.

I didn't care if her blood outranked mine.

I didn't take orders from a woman.

Unless that order was to bend her over and fuck her mercilessly.

I was all about
that
kind of order.

I pulled up outside the Pontarelli rental place a few minutes later, and Adriana could barely wait to step off the bike. She practically jumped off it and wrenched the helmet from her head. My lips twitched at the birds nest it had almost become, and she glared at me with her gorgeous eyes as she patted it down.

I climbed off the bike, pulled the keys, and stepped in front of her. She had one crazy lock of hair she'd missed, so I ran my fingers through the dark strands, calming them until they fell in line with the rest of her hair.

I loved it when she had her hair free like this. She looked powerful, almost. Beautiful—undoubtedly. But powerful. Her hair framed her face so loosely and softly that it lent a special kind of shine to her eyes.

A special kind of shine that could cut you down without another thought.

“You should wear your hair down more often,” I said quietly, my fingers running through it.

She smacked my hand away and quirked a sleek eyebrow. “Really? There're probably ten guys trying to kill me and you want to stand on a sidewalk and tell me how to wear my hair?”

“Pretty much.”

“No, Carlo.” She shoved the helmet at my gut and pointed at the building. “Get your ass into that goddamn building, rent a car, and get me the fuck out of California before I tear you so many new assholes you'll be shitting out of your armpits.”

There was my cut down.

One day, she'd pay for shooting me so much attitude.

She'd sure as hell enjoy it, but she'd pay.

I did as she said, still. I still refused to believe I was taking an order. I would have done it... eventually. When I was done complimenting her, which she totally didn't appreciate. Bad timing, I knew, but a compliment was a fucking compliment.

“Santo!” Adriana demanded, making the guy behind the counter sit up with a jerk. “Is Angelo here?”

“No. Gaige is.”

“Get him. Now.” She slapped her hands onto the counter and stared him down until he moved.

He looked like he was even younger than she was, not old enough to be leasing rental cars, but what the fuck did I know? The Pontarellis ran this city. They probably had the LAPD in their ass pockets for all I knew.

“Addy? What's wrong?” Gaige Pontarelli emerged from the back, dressed in a white shirt and long, thin black tie. “You haven't returned my call.”

“Gaige, I need the car. Me and Hunter need to get out of here.”

His eyes flicked over to me, hardening as soon as they found mine. “You do, huh?” His tone was dry, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Damn it, Gaige!” Adriana snapped, running her hand through her hair. “I don't give a fuck if you two hate each other for the rest of your lives, but right now, there are probably at least three people who have my name etched into their bullets, so get me the fucking keys before they find me!”

“What?” His eyes jerked back to her. “What the hell do you mean?”

I clenched my jaw. “The house was stormed,” I ground out. “We have no idea how many people followed us here. We need to get out of the state, and we need to do it now.”

I had no idea how I held my temper as he stared between us in disbelief. Every second he stood there like a fucking human totem pole was a second Enzio's minions could get closer to us. I wanted to grab hold of his stupid fucking creaseless white shirt and shake the fuck outta the guy.

“Gaige.” Adriana snapped her fingers. “The keys.”

“Right.” He shook his head as though he'd just rejoined this world. He pulled a large ring of keys from his pocket and fumbled through them until he found a much smaller one, then disappeared behind the counter. Moments later, after some clanging, he stood back up and handed Adriana two keys, one electronic and one normal.

She took them from him and separated them. I found the normal metal one shoved into my hand while she gripped the black, electronic one in her palm.

“I'll call you when we're safe, okay? I promise.” She leaned over the counter and kissed his cheek.

“Where are you going?” His shoulders tensed as she pulled back and headed for the door.