Hunter (28 page)

I jumped at the loud bang it made. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay here, even if it meant dying.

No. That's stupid. Hunter will kill me if I die.

Hunter. Like it mattered. This was all his fault anyway.

God, I hated him. I hated him so fucking much I couldn't stand it.

“Don't make me shoot this window out. You're no good dead to me, Princess.”

The nickname flipped.

I hated Hunter, but he was the only person allowed to use that name.

I unlocked the car and slammed the door open. It hit Isaiah's knee, and I saw the rage ripple over his features in the shadows. “I'm not your fucking princess, you thick bastard.”

Probably not my best decision.

And judging by the way his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, it definitely wasn't my best decision.

I made a split-second decision, and ran into the darkness. Footsteps slapped against the road behind me, and Isaiah's angry yell spurred me on. I had no idea where I was running, just that I needed to run and try to escape him.

I had the worst feeling that I was running along a road of nothing, and that my energy would deplete before the darkness did, but I kept going. I kept pushing, even when my lungs burned so fiercely I thought they'd rip themselves from my chest. Even when I couldn't breathe and my legs wanted to fall to pieces, I kept going.

And I slammed right into the hard body of Angelo Pontarelli.

I screamed.

“Stop!” he hissed when he grabbed me. He slapped his hand over my mouth and pulled me closer to him.

My eyes widened as a fresh wave of fear ran through my body. Angelo, too? Was everything I'd believed a lie? Was I being double-crossed by everyone?

“Trust me,” he whispered, his dark eyes finding mine. “Okay? No, don't speak. At all. Just nod.”

I jerked my head a tiny bit, and he yanked me into his side. I whimpered, but it was from shock, not pain, although I had a feeling it looked like it hurt if anyone saw it. “Ang—”

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” he snapped harshly, taking hold of my wrists. He gripped them together tightly at the base of my back.

“You got her?” Isaiah's voice traveled through the darkness.

“She didn't watch where she was going,” Angelo retorted.

“Stupid bitch.” Isaiah laughed, then like a switch changed, he stopped and dropped his eyes to me.

I trembled, but I clenched my jaw so he wouldn't see. I wouldn't be able to hide it from Angelo, but when he said to trust him, my gut agreed, so I didn't care if he knew.

I wasn't afraid to show weakness. I just didn't want to. Especially not to a dickhead like Isaiah.

“So pretty,” he murmured, nodding for Angelo to drop his hand.

Angelo secured my wrists now with two hands, but it didn't hurt. In fact, if I wanted to, I could have easily yanked my hands away and ran again.

Isaiah stopped just inches from me and reached out to touch my face. My skin crawled as he ran a fingertip down my cheek, and I fought to stop my head from jerking away as it brushed past my mouth.

His touch was dirty.

“No wonder he tried to sell you.” Isaiah tilted his head to the side and his finger trailed down my neck toward my chest.

“Get your fucking hands off me.” I stepped back into Angelo, who just shoved me forward.

I knew it was coming before it hit.

Isaiah's hand connected with my cheek, and I closed my eyes as the sharp sting radiated across my face and through my jaw.
Fuck.
That hurt.

“
Puttana
,” Isaiah spat at me.

“Maybe, but not your
puttana, stronzo.
”

Angelo squeezed my wrists as if to tell me to stop.

I probably should have listened, but I never did take orders very well.

Isaiah stared at me for a long moment before he laughed dryly and grabbed my chin. My jaw ached where he'd just hit me, and saliva pooled in my mouth. I longed to spit it at him, just for my own amusement, but truth be told, I didn't want another hit.

“Ah...” Isaiah murmured low, tilting my chin up and bringing my face close to his. “It's so much more fun when they
fight.
”

“You're a sick bastard,” I whispered harshly.

His lip curled into an evil twist. “I know. And I have all night to play with you.”

Angelo cleared his throat. “Actually, we have to leave now. The Boss is getting on a plane as soon as he's done with the Gualtierrez cartel, and he expects us to be back at the house with her by the time he gets back from Colombia tomorrow.”

Isaiah sneered, still staring at me. “Then I guess I'll just have to have my fun in the back.”

“I'm not driving a fucking van to New York with you raping her in the back so you can get your kicks,” Angelo shut him down. “He sold her once, so I'm sure he'll let you keep her for your pet when he's done with her.”

He paused for a moment before agreement flitted across his features. “True. Get her in the back and lock in her. I'll follow you there. Don't fucking stop for anyone, you got it?” He turned and went the way Angelo had come from.

“Got it.” Angelo pushed me forward down the lane. I hadn't run as far as I'd thought, and what I'd thought was a car behind mine was actually a van. “Do you need anything? Whisper,” he muttered in my ear.

I nodded. “I have a bag in the car.”

He waited until the rumble of an engine could be heard down the road, then reached inside the car I'd come in and grabbed my bag and the keys. “Don't speak, okay?”

“But—”

“I lied about him coming,” he said, his lips on my ear. “He's not yet. I have to take you to the house, but I'll explain everything there.”

I took a deep breath, but I nodded.

I didn't see what other choice I had.

I paced the room like a crazed man.

Why the fuck had I let her go? She waltzed out of the god damn room where there was a bounty on her head. When people wanted her fucking dead. I knew, and I hadn't even tried to chase her, because I was too much of a fucking pussy.

Because I knew I'd fucked up. I'd broken her fucking heart, and I wasn't even man enough to cope with it. To apologize. I hadn't even done that. I'd stood there and taken all the shit she'd given me without resistance because I deserved it. Every last bit of her hatred and resentment.

I wore it like a ball and a chain.

I always would.

At least if she hated me, one day, she would be happy.

I didn't deserve her. She deserved better. Not someone who would lie to her, even if it was just so she wouldn't hurt.

Of course Gaige fucking Pontarelli would be the one who told her. Of course he'd be the one to put the nail in the coffin that was any chance of me being able to hold her for one more night.

I sat on the edge of the bed and dropped my head forward. My fingers dove into my hair, gripping it tightly. Like the barely there sting could ever beat out the repetitive gut punches of knowing I'd hurt her.

Knowing I'd let her go.

Run away.

Fuck.

What a fucking idiot.

I needed to find her—even if she hated me, even if she beat my ass down and called me every name in her two favorite languages, I needed to find her.

I got up and grabbed my jacket. I slung it on and then tucked my gun inside. It was loaded, it always was. It was always ready to kill. Like me. I cracked my neck side to side and, snatching up the backpack full of my shit, left the room.

The dim lights were still fucking flickering, and I couldn't take it any longer. I reached out and punched one, the smashing of the glass oddly soothing. Even the way my skin sliced open on my fist calmed me. Even as I looked down to see blood trickling out of my knuckle. I examined it closely—no glass. It'd stop soon.

I hoped.

I ran down the metal stairs to the parking lot, then froze. She had the car. Of course she did. How the fuck was I supposed to find her when she had four wheels and I had only two feet?

“Shit.” I ran my fingers through my air and scanned the lot aimlessly. I could steal one, I guess, but then if I was caught I'd definitely be no good to her.

“You won't find her.”

I turned at the sound of the familiar voice, and clenched my fist as he came out from the shadows. “The fuck are you doing here, Pontarelli?”

Gaige smirked. “Same thing you are, Rosso. Trying to protect her.”

“By lurking in shadows? That's my MO, don't you think?”

“You don't need to lurk. You're quick enough to kill without the shadows.” He rolled the sleeves of his sweater up, despite the slight chill in the air. “But you won't find her. She was already found.”

My muscles tightened all through my body, and adrenaline froze me. “What do you mean, she was already found?”

“Isaiah. You can't think he was honestly on her side, can you?” He raised his eyebrows and paused. “Oh, you did. You're a fucking idiot.”

My hand was around his throat and pinning him to the wall quicker than I could react. “Do you know how quickly I could kill you right now, Pontarelli?” I said in a dangerously low voice. I pulled out my gun and pressed it against his stomach. “I wouldn't even need this. I could snap your neck quicker than I could finish this sentence. Don't fuck with me where Adriana is concerned. I'll end you before you end your game.”

Panic flashed fleetingly in his eyes, and I let up my grip so he could speak. “Isaiah found you,” he rasped out. “He waited until she was alone. When she left not long ago, he followed her. He's got her.”

“How do you know this?” I didn't want to focus on the anger that was building in my stomach. If I did, it would consume me, and I'd never get the answers I wanted.

If it consumed me, I would see red. I'd want to kill everyone that crossed my path, starting with this
pezzo di merda
in front of me.

“Why the fuck didn't you help her? What are you doing here?” The questions fired off of my tongue before I could think each one through.

“Can you put me the fuck down, man? I'm on your fucking side, Rosso.”

The look in his eye was honest, so I let him go. Kept my gun pointed at him, though. I didn't trust his words that much.

“Thank you.” Gaige rubbed his neck and rolled his shoulders. “I didn't trust you. I've been on this trip with you, just kept my distance. Different motels, changed my car like you did, that stuff. I thought you'd do the job you were sent to do, but you didn't.”

“That's one answer.”

“I didn't help her because I couldn't. Angelo is with Isaiah, and that's how I know she's now in Romano hands.”

“They're not Romano hands. Enzio isn't a Romano. He married in,” I told him. “And why the fuck do you think I should trust you when your brother is with them?”

“Because he's helping her.” Gaige stared me down. “She wants to kill her father, fine. I think she's a fucking idiot. But going in on the outside isn't gonna help her, is it? He's been working with them ever since you showed up. He spun a shit story behind our father's back, and I found out.”

“Why?” I tilted my head to the side. “Why is he helping her?”

“Because he wanted her to come back safely. To me.”

Fuck.
Those words hurt. I knew they were right, but fuck. I clenched my teeth together as he watched me, but I refused to give him the pleasure of knowing how deeply his words had cut. I wouldn't bleed on him, or I'd probably try to kill him.

I would always be the loser in this fight.

“Then I hope you've got a fucking plan,” was all I said. “And a car.”

Gaige pulled some keys from his pocket, threw them in the air, then caught them again. “Let's go. I'll explain in the car.”

I stared at the wall.

I didn't know what time it was or how long I'd been sitting in this room. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours. I did know I was in what used to be the basement, but was now apparently holding cells.

For the person who owned every ass in the house.

Ironic.

I'd been waiting for forever. I didn't know what I was waiting for anymore. I just knew I was cold, I was hungry, and my wrists were hurting from the rope Isaiah had wound tightly around them before he blindfolded me and lead me down here.

Unfortunately for him, I could still remember the layout of the Romano house. I'd played too many games of hide and seek to ever forget every twist and turn of the hallways and staircases.

It was quiet, too. Too quiet. Lifeless, almost. Like if anyone else was in the house, they were confined to places I wouldn't be.

Then again, I was supposed to be dead. Not a prisoner in my own house, even if I hadn't seen it for ten years.

I looked down at my feet and squeezed my eyes shut. At least they'd let me keep my shoes and my clothes, to Isaiah's annoyance. That sick fuck just wanted to see me naked until he'd ultimately get his filthy hands on me.

I wasn't naïve enough to believe I would spared that fate again. Not many people would escape rape twice, and I knew I wasn't one of them. I'd gotten lucky because of Mamma before, but she wasn't here this time. She couldn't protect me from Isaiah.

Nobody could.

I leaned back against the cold, brick wall. Every part of me was numb yet hurt. My wrists were the only things I could feel, so I looked down at them. Maybe the rope was cutting into my skin. I didn't know. It was too dark to see anything, and I'd already tried to find a light switch since there was no window.

I must have touched every bit of wall and floor in desperation.