Hunter (27 page)

I wished I had an answer for her.

“Yeah? You think you could hide it? Gaige just told me!” She laughed bitterly and swiped under her eyes futilely. The tears were falling faster than she could wipe them. “I asked him if he'd heard from Darien and he told me. Told me Darien died. One of Enzio's little minions got him. And you knew! I know you did! Didn't you? Answer me, damn it!”

I took a slow, deep breath, and nodded my head once.

In her eyes, I saw her heart shatter.

The pain—oh, God.

It was like a disease, the way it filtered through my veins, slowly poisoning me with its truth.

I couldn't breathe as it took hold of me, threatening to paralyze me with its strength. I didn't know how to process the information Gaige had told me.

That he hadn't heard from Darien since the day before the shooting. Because Darien hadn't survived.

He hadn't even died quickly.

His wounds weren't necessary immediately fatal. But no one got there quick enough, and he thinks that Isaiah—the cowardly piece of shit—ran.

Cowardly.

Just like Hunter.

Because he couldn't tell me the truth.

Because he flat out lied.

My heart ached unlike anything I'd ever felt. It was lightning bolt after lightning bolt of raw pain that lit me on fire in the worst way.

“Answer me!” I demanded Hunter, my eyes burning with tears.

Slowly, he nodded.

Yes.

He knew. He lied. He didn't tell me.

“Adriana...” He reached for me.

I stepped back and threw my hands in the air. “Don't touch me. Don't fucking touch me, Carlo!”

He dropped his hands. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” I gave up trying to wipe my tears away. “You're sorry? Sorry you lied to me and told me the closest man I've had to a father, the man who saved my sorry fucking life ten years ago, was alive, when he isn't? Do you have any idea how I feel right now? Do you? Do you?”

“No,” he said slowly. “I don't.”

“You wanna know what sorry is?” I narrowed my eyes and put every ounce of anger I had in my body behind my stare. I thought I needed to hurt him before—I was wrong. I didn’t. This was a need to hurt him; the ice-cold hatred that froze its way around my heart was the need to hurt him.

The worst part was, I knew what I was about to say was completely true.

“I'm sorry you ever came to California. I'm sorry you didn't pull the fucking trigger. I'm sorry I ever saw your goddamn face again.” I shoved him out of the way and grabbed the backpack containing my things.

“What are you doing?” He tried to grab the bag from me, but I swung it at him and hit him in the side.

“Leaving,” I snapped. My tears were still burning hot trails down my cheeks, but I was kind of numb to it. So many had fallen in such a short space of time that it didn't feel out of place anymore.

“You can't leave, Adriana! Jesus. It's not safe—”

“Because someone might kill me, yeah? Because I can't survive without you, right?” I spun on the balls of my feet and met his gorgeous, pained, silver eyes. “Because here's the thing, Carlo: I was doing just fine until you showed up. I wasn't in danger, no one was trying to kill me, and I was surviving perfectly okay. Until you.
You.
”

He froze at my words. They hung in the air like a thick storm cloud, and the tension that clung to them was the thunder and lightning, ready to break free from behind it.

Carlo stared at me like they were the last words he’d ever expected me to say. I saw the exact moment they hit home, because his soul, his black, dark, twisted, fucked up soul shone in his eyes. Just for a tiny moment, there was something other than the guilt and regret he carried like a cloak.

There was a flicker of white hot pain.

I wanted it to burn.

Consume him.

Destroy him.

There was no doubt in my mind that his lie had destroyed me.

I pushed past him toward the door, and he grabbed me. He was quicker than me, and stronger, even when I beat at his chest with my fists.

I needed him away from me.

I didn’t want him touching me.

His touch burned my skin.

It hurt.

A scratchy yell ripped from my throat, and strength I didn’t know I had made me propel him away from me. He staggered back several steps, putting a few feet between us, and I took my chance.

I grabbed the door handle and tugged it open. I slammed it behind me as I ran out of the room. The need to be away from him was greater than my need for safety, because in my head, he was danger. He’d brought this.

I was scared. I was hurting.

No.

I was terrified. I was heartbroken.

And I didn’t know which pain went up and which fear went down. Or whatever was happening. I just knew my stomach clenched in agony and my heart ached so hard that each beat it forced itself through was a tiring slog.

The sound of the door echoed, even as my feet rattled against the metal steps that suddenly felt all too loose beneath my feet. I gripped the handrail tightly as I ran down to the bottom floor, the keys securely in my bag.

I knew because I’d seen him tuck them in there earlier when he dumped everything.

I fumbled in the front pocket of the rucksack and pulled them out. They clinked as I struggled to grab the key fob and hit the button, but thankfully, I did it. The headlights on the car flashed as it unlocked, glaring brightly at me, and I ran across the lot to where he’d parked it.

I yanked open the door, my heart pounding painfully in my chest, and threw the bag on the passenger seat. A handful of things spilled out onto the floor as it fell over, but I ignored them as I slammed the door behind me and put the vehicle into drive.

That was what I needed to do.

Drive.

I didn’t care where. I didn’t care how long it took. I just needed to go, leave, get the hell away from this fucking stupid motel with that stupid fucking guy who’d just broken my heart in so many ways I didn’t know how it could ever be whole again.

Tears blurred my vision as I reversed out of the parking spot and looked around for my escape. Left. It was left. That was the way out.

I turned the steering wheel and drove left. The lights in this place were bad, and my blurry sight didn’t help me as I attempted to navigate my way out of the lot. I was so emotional I felt more than a little out of sorts—I almost felt drunk. Adrenaline and sadness and pure shock filtered through my body over and over until nothing I saw made sense.

Darien was dead. Hunter had lied.

Nothing made sense.

Everything was falling apart.

The wounds from Mamma’s death were still so raw, but with Gaige’s words tonight, they’d been ripped right back open. They were bleeding… I could feel them. Bleeding all over me.

I pulled over at the side of the road. It was dark, completely unlit, and I had no idea where it was. Where I was. I could have crossed the state line for all I knew. My phone was ringing, and when I picked it up, I had thirteen missed calls. Twelve from Hunter and one from Gaige.

How long had I been driving? How numb was I? That’s what I was. Never mind that my shirt felt damp from my tears, the same ones that were still slowly trickling down my cheeks.

Pain.

It was everywhere.

Sadness.

It was consuming.

Loss… It wasn’t a strong enough word. Four tiny letters.

My quiet laugh was drenched in bitterness. Four tiny letters… They were so ridiculous, weren’t they? Letters. They were nothing when they stood alone, yet when they were put together, they had power. Destructive, life-changing power.

Love.

That was one of them. Alone, l, o, v, and e were simple. They were meaningless little things, but together? They could make you or break you.

Dead.

That was another. So much power in something so small.

Liar.

Maybe the most devastating of all three words.

In the last twenty-four hours, I’d been face to face with all three of these things. And they’d all in come in the form of one person.

The ink that stained his skin on his upper arm had never been more accurate.
Angelo della morte.
Angel of death. After all, he was sent to kill me, and he had. Just not in the way he’d originally planned.

He’d killed me in a far worse way, because this was the kind of heartache I would have to live with. There would be no escaping this.

Everything I’d ever been taught about the mafia had been proven.

Trust no one.

People will hurt you to help themselves.

Blood doesn’t lie.

I was alone. I had no one.

If I wanted to carry on with this, I had to do it myself.

I wiped my eyes with the heels of my hands and then pinched the bridge of my nose. I took several deep breaths in quick succession and tried to get my emotions under control. They were still running rampant through my body, but they slowly became manageable.

“Okay,” I said out loud. “Come on, Adriana. Pull yourself together.”

Which was easier said than done, given that I had no idea where I was, for a start. Looking around didn’t help me either. It really was pitch black—

Headlights illuminated the road, and I took my chance. I saw nothing but bushes and trees. Shit. That gave me nothing. I could have been anywhere from the local playground to a national fucking park.

I could have been in Canada for all I knew.

The car pulled up behind me, and instinctively, I hit the lock for the car. I hoped whoever was driving the one behind me wasn’t going to stop—but if they did, I’d say that the recovery vehicle was on its way. Yep. That was the plan.

Don’t open the door. Don’t unroll the windows.

Of course, driving away would make more sense than staying here like a sitting duck.

They stopped.

I froze in my seat. I should have put the car into drive and gone away, and done it quickly, but I didn't. I was still too paralyzed by Hunter's betrayal, and I wasn't entirely sure that Darien's death had sunk in yet. A piece of my soul felt numb, like it was defiantly refusing to admit that he was gone.

Just like my heart.

No part of me wanted to admit it.

Something knocked against the trunk, and I inhaled sharply. I stared at the keys—I should have turned them. I knew that. But I didn't. Still didn't. Couldn't.

I held my breath as a face appeared in the passenger side window. I fought to stay looking forward, even when the person there knocked, but curiosity got the better of me and I turned my face.

Isaiah.

The look in his eye was... terrifying. It was a glinting mixture of satisfaction and anticipation that leered at me. My skin crawled as I froze under his gaze. I didn't know how'd found me, but my gut coiled in realization.

He wasn't here to help. He never was. I was right not to trust him.

Except he didn't look like he wanted to kill me. I wasn't exactly a mind reader, but it wasn't hard to tell what he wanted. For the first time, I doubted my father—who wanted to sell me? Did his most trusted friend have an input?

Because that was how I felt. It was part Isaiah. The lustful wave that flowed over his expression as I gripped the steering wheel gave it away.

“Adriana.” He knocked on the window. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” My words came out much stronger than I felt inside. “I just got lost on the way to the store.”

“Ah. Can you roll down the window so I don't have to yell at you?”

“No.” It came out a little shrill. “I mean, no. It's okay. My phone is loading up the GPS.”

“Where is it?”

I looked around. Shit. “It must have fallen on the floor,” I lied. I leaned forward in an attempt to make him believe I was telling the truth and looking for my phone. I wouldn't find it, of course, but my lungs constricted in fear as I blindly fumbled around on the dark floor. “Maybe I put it back in my—”

I stilled as the hazy orange glow from his headlights behind me illuminated the gun he had pressed against the window. I swallowed hard, but my mouth was dry, so all I did was make myself cough.

“You know what'll happen if I pull this trigger, Adriana?” Isaiah shouted through the window, his tone deathly threatening. “This window will shatter into a million pieces. If the first bullet I put into your head doesn't kill you, the second one will.”

I cleared my throat. “That seems a little—little drastic.”

“Get out of the car.”

“I'm gonna say no...”

“Get. Out.”

“Sorry. Can't.” With that, I brushed off the immediate fear, turned the key, and slammed my foot onto the accelerator. The tires squealed against the road, and I barely switched on my lights before the sound of a gunshot shattering my back window rang through the air.

A scream ripped from my throat, and instinctively, I swerved. Branches rattled against the side of the car, and I winced as they felt dangerously close to my face, despite the glass in the way. I managed to get back onto the road, but only as a second, and then a third, shot hit the car.

This time, it was the tires.

I felt the back two burst, and I pulled my foot off the accelerator. I forced myself to touch the break as I desperately tried to steer the car into bushes opposed to the thick, brick wall I could now see on the other side of the road. It felt as thought the car spun several times, taking my stomach and my sanity on the merry-go-round with it, until it finally careened into the bushes and came to a stop with a jarring hit.

My neck cricked as the impact came, and I ground my teeth together. I knew it would hurt tomorrow morning... if I was even still alive.

I reached back and gently massaged my neck. Ouch. Fuck.

“Get out!” Isaiah kicked the drivers' side door.