We returned to the safely ensconced walls of Hunter’s mansion, hiding out and waiting for what would be the other shoe to drop. It took one week for JW to show up in our lives again. One week to send our world into a spiral. One week of bliss before our bubble burst.
It started just a few days after the break-in when a few enforcers showed up at Hunter’s door. First they delivered an envelope that held copies of every single piece of paper with every single dollar amount that Brant had smuggled, addressed to me. It didn’t mean anything — I could hardly read the legal jargon — but the amounts were staggering. The amounts told a tale of greed and carelessness. Brant hadn’t even tried very well to cover his tracks, some of the bank accounts in his own name. One even in my mother’s name with a large deposit just a few months ago. Had he swiped her identification to open a bank account in her name? And why hadn’t he ever used my name–or had those accounts just not been found yet?
My mind swirled with a thousand possibilities, all starting with that god damn envelope, meant as a threat as much as an omen.
When I’d shown Hunter the papers, his eyes had flared before he’d shrugged and walked away, saying he’d already had copies of every single one of those–in fact, he’d been the one to turn much of that information over in Brant’s file.
It didn’t shake Hunter like it did me. I was growing more fearful, tired of getting groceries delivered and not being able to go for a walk down the street or even go to the doctor for my first prenatal. We were prisoners in this four-story walkup.
When Hunter didn’t respond to JW’s threat with the hand-delivered envelope, the texts lit Hunter’s phone day and night from an unavailable number. They were always threatening, but as Hunter pointed out, they were only words. Until JW showed himself, we were helpless. I began to feel more and more like a sitting duck.
Hunter asked again if I was interested in witness protection. It could be our chance to leave and start over, he’d said. I’d refused, feeling like a prisoner in his mansion, but staying firm. I wouldn’t give up my life yet. This would all be over soon, I just hoped we’d make it out alive.
The following morning, as the sun was rising in the sky, a barrage of bangs filled my ears as shattered glass sprayed through the house. I launched straight out of bed before Hunter dragged me to the floor in a crouch.
“Stay here,” he grunted before I felt cool air and realized he was leaving me alone. Again.
“Hunter, no!” I yanked at his taut forearm. “Call the police first! Don’t go down there!” I whispered, afraid someone could now be in the house with us.
“It’ll be fun.” He pulled the gun from his nightstand then pulled himself from my grip and was stalking to the door before my brain could even form a response.
“Hunter?” I whispered again, but my plea fell into dead air. He was already gone.
I listened for the soft pad of his footsteps on the stairs but heard none. I waited too many agonizing minutes, my mind waging a war on itself. Should I call the police? Maybe I could call the Feds with that stupid burner phone of his. What would Hunter want me to do?
I crawled across the polished wood floor and around the bed to search for Hunter’s phone. Of course neither was there. The man lived with them attached to his hip. I was just about to give up and go after him when I heard the soft footfalls up the stairs. My heart froze and I tried to shimmy back under the bed before the intruder found the room, when I felt a firm palm grasp at my ankle and pull me across the slick floor.
“They’re gone. Just vandalism. Shit tossed through the windows.” Hunter’s quiet tone eased my anxiety before I thrust myself into his arms. “Shh…” he shushed as a hand rubbed my back. “Just another scare tactic.”
“Hunter, I don’t feel safe here anymore,” I sobbed and felt my muscles weakening with fatigue.
“We gotta do wit-pro, baby.”
“No, no. We can’t give up. Not yet.”
“It’s not giving up, it’s keeping you safe.” His palms cupped my stomach.
“We can’t run for the rest of our lives. You have to be here to finish this, to know it’s over for good. We don’t have a choice.” I echoed his own words as I looked into his eyes, determined.
Hunter sucked in a slow breath before one hand ran through his short hair. “Fuck. I can’t say no to you.” His eyes flashed with irritation. “Okay. I’ll talk to the supervisor, maybe they can add a few more guys, work on the technical side of things…” His green gaze locked with mine as he trailed off.
“Okay.” I nodded, suddenly feeling more in control than I had in weeks. I had faith this would work out. I had to; it was all the hope we had left.
Hunter guided me down the stairs to his main floor a few minutes later. My jaw dropped when I saw the main entrance riddled with broken glass and pieces of pipe and debris. “Oh, Hunter. No.” I pushed a hand to my mouth, the other at my stomach, feeling like I might be sick.
“I’ll get it cleaned up.”
“No. No, just stay with me for a minute.” I grabbed his hand again, my hand shaking.
He walked me across the room to the couch, his leg bouncing and eyes watching the door the entire time. I felt the cold metal at his hip, and that familiar feeling of wanting to run.
“Jesus Christ,” Hunter mumbled when his phone rattled a minute later. He picked it up, answering gruffly, as his palm landed on my knee. Hunter murmured a few things then cursed before hanging up. “We’re leaving. Now.” Hunter clasped my hand in his and bolted straight out into the garage, heading for his Lexus.
“Where?”
“Anywhere, we’ll talk in the car. Guys think the place is bugged.”
“But how?” I asked, shocked.
“Get in, Erin.” He was locking me into my seatbelt a moment later before the garage door was lifting and he was squealing out of the driveway, the garage door closing less than twenty seconds later, as if we hadn’t even been there in the first place.
Hunter headed for the outskirts of town, a path we’d taken before. “The cabin?” I asked. His only response was a slow nod. “Won’t JW know?”
“He doesn’t know it exists. It belongs to a buddy of mine from the desert. JW doesn’t know him. It’s the only place I can think of that’s near to the city for the investigation that JW can’t trace,” he mumbled as his fists clenched at the wheel and he pushed the accelerator to the floor. I watched it climb past ninety.
“Hunter…”
“Just let me get out of the city, Erin. Watch the mirrors for a trace. That’s how you can help right now,” he barked. His words stung, but I obeyed. I would do anything he told me to right now. He was the expert at this game; I was merely a pawn.
“Okay,” I said confidently as my heart rallied in my chest while my hands shook with fear. I swallowed the lump in my throat and cast my eyes to the rearview mirror, eyes watching as Hunter took quick turns and hidden alleyways trying to lose anyone that may be behind us.
I unclenched my fists many miles later when the view turned from steel and concrete to evergreens and sparkling blue lake. I sucked in a breath and the tension eased from my shoulders when we pulled off the expressway and headed for the narrow dirt road and the cabin that would be our bunker indefinitely.
My phone rumbled moments later in my lap and I sighed when I saw the caller ID. “My mom.” I hit “end call.” Always calling at the worst possible times. “I can’t talk to her right now.”
Hunter didn’t respond, his eyes focused on the road, his jaw still clenched.
“We’ll get through this. We’ll be okay.” I reached a hand across the seat and grasped his thigh. Hunter only blinked, his focus on one thing and one thing only. I could see it throbbing through his veins and tensing his muscles. He was in white-knuckled survival mode.
