Hunter (8 page)

“You think I don't know that?” He spun, and I could almost see the frustration coming off of him. He ran his fingers through his hair and met my eyes. “This guy came to kill you, Addy. Fucking
kill you
. And they're in there discussing whether or not the Romano assassin is a fucking danger to you?”

“He's not just the assassin,” I said, my voice quieter than his. “He was my best friend. Do you get that? We did everything together for as long as I could remember. He's not a hired hitman whose sole purpose is to kill me because he doesn't know me. Hunter knows me. At least... he did. Once.”

“You're crazy if you think he won't kill you. Your life or his. Do you really think your life matters more to him than his own?”

I looked away. I didn't want to answer that. The thirteen year old girl inside me wanted to tell him that yes, it did, because he'd told me so. He'd said a hundred times that he'd take a bullet before he saw it hit me. He'd told me a hundred times that his life was nothing compared to mine.

“You've lost your damn mind, Adriana.”

I snapped my eyes to his. “And you're judging a man you've never met based on his reputation, his job, and the ridiculous demands of the man who calls himself my father. If Hunter was a true danger to me, I wouldn't be alive right now. Do I believe he might still kill me? Yes, because I'm not a precious fucking naive flower with no understanding of the mafia. He could walk up to me right now and shoot me between the eyes then disappear before anyone could do anything. But don't stand there and tell me I've 'lost' my 'damn mind' for believing that the boy I used to know is still inside him somewhere.”

Gaige shook his head slowly. “He'll kill you. Without a thought. You have no idea how sheltered you've been. I know things about Carlo Rosso that would make your skin crawl,
Princess.
”

“Then why don't you pull your balls from your asshole and tell me so I can make a fully informed decision about him instead of wrapping me up in washed down truths? I'm not a china doll. You know that better than anyone.” And he did—and that's why I was so mad.

I knew I'd been sheltered. I knew Mamma and Darien had done whatever they could to keep me in the loop without keeping me fully embedded in the mafia world. Mamma's greatest wish was that I grew up with a life that resembled somewhat of a normal teenage girl's. She didn't want me worrying about what happened in New York, or Boston, or Chicago. She just told me enough that I wouldn't worry.

But I knew more than everyone thought. I'd overheard more conversations than they knew.

“Six months ago, your father found out one of his
capos
was double-crossing him and giving information to the Teresi family,” Gaige started, his eyes scarily intense on mine. “He called your precious Hunter in and ordered him to break every possible bone in his body. He did it, including his neck, then after twelve hours of excruciating pain, Carlo shot him between the eyes to end his existence.”

I swallowed hard.

“Several weeks ago, the smuggler who was supposed to provide the Romanos with one million dollars’ worth of cocaine was intercepted by the DEA because he was careless. He escaped arrest, but they took every single ounce of powder that was supposed to be delivered. Do you know what happened to him and his family? His daughter only just escaped with her new baby, but his wife was brutally raped by
three
men, one after the other, then all together. Carlo stood there with a gun to the smuggler's head and made him watch every single fucking second, and then he shot him in the thigh as a warning.”

I felt sick. My stomach churned, forcing bile up my throat, and I covered my mouth with my hand. I couldn't look at Gaige in that moment. Not because he'd told me it, but because he said it so stoic. He didn't flinch once, even as he described how the guy's wife was raped. There was no expression on his face, but I could see the disgusted hatred in his dark eyes.

“See? You look like you're going to throw up, Addy. He isn't the boy who used to protect you from the big bad men who wanted to kidnap you. He's a brutal, sadistic
fica
who deserves to burn alive for the things he's done.”

Fica.
Cunt. A word Gaige rarely used. That alone told me how much he hated Hunter.

“He's forced to do those things,” I reasoned quietly, dropping my hand from my mouth and resting it at the top of my chest. “He's working on my father's orders.”

“You're making excuses for him. It's unreal.”

“It's true, Gaige. You know it is. Yes, they're despicable things he's done, but you know he'd ordered to do them, so don't act like they're done off of his own back.” It was my turn to stare at him now. “You forget that your family stays here through drugs and women. Keeping Los Angeles in crack, heroin, and meth and trafficking the occasional prostitute is how the Pontarelli family is still here. New York is a different world.” My voice got quieter. “It's rougher, harsher, and far more brutal. So yes, I am disgusted by what he's done, and you should be, too, but it's a whole other world there. And my father rules it with an iron fist. If he didn't, someone else would.”

Gaige held my eyes, even as he ran his fingers through his hair again. “Sounds like you've already made your mind up whether or not you trust him.”

“Far from it.” I wrapped my arms around my waist. “Just because I want to see the good in him doesn't mean I trust him. I just don't want you to look at him and see nothing more than a killer, because I know there's more to him than that.”

“But by trying to see that, you could find that he is nothing more than a killer, and then that leaves you dead.” The worry he clearly felt reflected back at me in his eyes, so I dropped my arms from myself and closed the distance between us.

I circled my arms around his waist and rested my head against his shoulder. Gaige's chest heaved as he sighed heavily and hugged me back tightly. He kissed the top of my head, letting his lips linger there for a long moment. I closed my eyes and squeezed his waist.

“Will you trust me?” I asked softly.

“It's not trusting you I have a problem with. It's him,” he said into my hair, tightening his grip on me before releasing me. “I don't trust him to be anywhere near you.”

It was hard to argue with that. I didn't exactly trust Hunter around me, either.

“I know.” I looked up at Gaige and rested my hand against his cheek. The light stubble that dotted his jaw and lower cheek rubbed against my palm. “I know you want to keep me safe, but to do that, you have to let me put myself in danger. A little bit.”

“That's the most contradictory thing you've ever said, Addy.”

“I know. But it makes sense... to me. And let's face it.” I stepped back and raised an eyebrow. “If he doesn't kill me, someone else is going to try to.”

“You really know how to reassure a guy,” he said dryly. “Fine. I know that look on your face.”

My eyes widened. “What look?”

“This one.” He waved his hand in front of my face. “Eyebrow raised, laughing eyes, a futile attempt at not smirking... That's your determined face.”

“I don't have a determined face,” I scoffed. How ridiculous.

“You do, and I can see you're determined to speak to him again, so fine. I'm going to let you.”

I licked my lips and smiled. He was, was he? How sweet of him.

“But I want to know when you speak to him and where you are, and if you don't check in with me every thirty minutes, I'm coming to find you.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Shut up.” He grabbed me back into him with one arm and hugged me from the side, then let me go again. “Let's go back inside. I promise to control my temper this time.”

I rolled my eyes, but let him lead me back into the house. The sound of raised voices traveled down the hall and through the kitchen. The walls muffled the sounds, but I could just about make out the heated discussion regarding Hunter. I shook my head, shrugged off Gaige's arm, and made a beeline for the dining room.

I leaned against the door frame and cast my gaze over the four men arguing the toss. It sounded like the only one on my side and willing to give Hunter the benefit of the doubt was Darien. Gaige, too, of course, but his willingness was under duress, so I wasn't sure that entirely counted.

I doubted he'd even be supportive under duress if he knew just how close Hunter and I really were ten years ago.

“Adriana?” Darien turned. “What are you thinking?”

I glanced back at Gaige before meeting his eyes. “I want to talk with Hunter.
Alone.
”

“Out of the question,” Armo shot me down. “It's too dangerous.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, locking my gaze onto his. “You must have heard me wrong. I wasn't asking to talk to him. I'm
going
to talk to him, and I'm going to do it alone. Sending an army for a simple conversation is going to do nothing.”

Armo clenched his jaw, and Angelo shrugged his shoulders. At least he knew better than to argue with me—his father could have done with a lesson or two in that.

“Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make.”

And with that, I turned and left the men to be men.

I slam his body against the cold, exposed, red brick wall. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, the very place my elbow has just connected with. “Now what's your fucking excuse, Porter? Your wife go into labor again?”

“P-p-please.” His teeth chatter as I put pressure on his neck. “D-don't d-do this.”

“Do what? Take care of the problem you've fucking created by not doing what you were paid to do?” I hold the gun against his neck, aiming up into his brain. “You've caused my boss some serious issues.”

“I'm sorry. I'll cover it—w-whatever it is.”

“Three hundred thousand dollars, you stupid fuck!” I pull the gun away and punch his jaw. He falls to the floor, and already, I can see the fight draining out of his body.

Fucking pussy.

“Get up.”

He doesn't.

“Get. Up.” I kick him. Hard.

He pushes himself up and staggers to his feet, using the wall as a guide to pull him up. He almost falls but manages to steady himself somehow.

My hand wraps around his neck as I pin him to the wall, a grin stretching across my face. “Let me tell you something, Porter...” I say quietly. “You're one of the lucky ones. Your wife won't be touched.”

He attempts to fight me, but I squeeze his neck tighter and bring the gun to his face.

“Now be a good boy and open your mouth.”

He didn't.

I hold the gun against his temple and tilt my head to the side. “And you know what I said about your wife?”

He sneers, a missing tooth at the front more prevalent now. It's missing because of me, so I laugh.

“She's safe.
Tonight
.” I laugh harder.

He tries to move.

I pull the trigger.

The shot echoes through the alley. I let him go and step back as his body slumps to the floor.

Useless. Worthless. Lifeless.

***

I flicked through the hotel TV channels aimlessly. If there was something of interest to me on the screen, I didn't fucking see it. I was staring at it, but my head may as well have been on another goddamn dimension.

My phone was lying next to me on the bed like a silent torture device. I'd been trying to call Enzio since I left Adriana's house last night, but he hadn't answered a single call. I'd finally gotten through to Isaia, the
consigliere
, and he told me he'd have Enzio call me.

I was still fucking waiting, and it'd been six hours.

I dropped my head back against the headboard and closed my eyes. The kiss with Adriana yesterday played in my mind on loop. The way she gasped when I slammed her against the wall was like a damn broken record, and the tiny moan she let out as she'd bitten my lip made my cock hard as I thought about it.

Shit, who the fuck was I kidding? My cock had been rock hard the second our lips had touched, and now, each time I thought about it, blood rushed to the fucking thing like I was a sixteen year old opening his first Playboy.

Even now when I was lying in bed, thinking about the taste of coffee and candy on her lips and her hands grabbing my shirt as she yielded to my kiss, my dick throbbed uncomfortably against my zipper.

I adjusted it. It was fucking wrong. I shouldn't have a goddamn hard on over her. I was supposed to kill her... Not kiss her and get a boner.

I rubbed my hand over my face. I wasn't stupid enough to believe that this erection would disappear by magic, but I wasn't prepared for the other option either. If I thought getting hard over her was wrong—and it was—jerking off over her was definitely wrong.

But, fuck. I could feel the tension rolling through my muscles, and as I shifted uncomfortably, I wanted to undo my zipper, pull out my cock, and get myself off until this inappropriate burst of desire disappeared.

I got up and yanked my shirt over my head. It fell to the floor in a heap, and I left my phone on the bed as I made my way into the bathroom. Fuck it.

I wasn't getting her out of my head. I wasn't getting rid of this hard on with fucking fairy dust. It wasn't like she ever wanted to see me again, was it? She was clear enough on that yesterday. So fuck everything.

I turned on the shower and unbuttoned my jeans, then shoved them down with my boxers. My cock sprung free right as the shower cubicle steamed up from the hot water. I stepped out of my clothes and got into the shower. The hot water beat down on me, and I welcomed the rush of heat through my body.

The soap almost slipped out of my hands as I grabbed it, but I managed to hold onto it long enough to get it on the sponge. It lathered into a foam as I rubbed the sponge across my body, covering my body in a layer of soapy suds.

My cock still throbbed.

I dropped the sponge and reached down. I shut my eyes as my hand wrapped around my hard cock, like not seeing it would make this fucking okay. Nothing would make what I was about to do okay, but fuck, I had nothing left to lose.