Page 19 of Hunter

Before I can take my second step, Louisa softly reaches over to his cheek and cups it with affection, making it look entirely real. The beat of the music drops, and she begins shaking her hips slowly toward him, subtle but so incredibly sexy at the same time, just like she was on that stage at the bar. He seems hypnotized by her movements; his eyes are hooded and lustful when he looks her up and down, seemingly lost in everything that’s her. She places her hand on his pec, slides it down his chest, abs, and onto his hip, then grazes her lips over his jawline. I feel my muscles tighten as I watch Trent roll his eyes back, obviously enjoying the touch. She drops her eyes down his body before circling him, taking her hand all the way around his hips and onto his ass. As she returns to face him, she flips around so her back is to his chest. She then encourages him to move his hands to her waist and hips and reaches up to run her fingers through his hair.

As I look around, I notice many pairs of eyes fixated on this erotic dance taking place before me, but it’s not long before mine are back on Louisa. She moves so sensually, I can feel all the blood rushing to my cock, making me as hard as steel for her. She leans her head back against his shoulder, shutting her eyes and biting her lip as he runs the palm of his hands down to her thighs which are naked and smooth for all to see.

Without any warning, she flips to face him again and positions her legs in between his, circling her hips closer and closer toward him. It’s sexy but elegant, unlike his last partner, there’s more sophistication to it. I want to know who taught her to move like this, who gave her the confidence to tease a man to the brink of orgasm without actually removing any clothes.

Just as the song is about to finish, a tall, broad, and heavily tattooed man braces up behind her and pulls her upper arms back, encasing her in a firm grip. I slam my drink down onto the bar and begin pushing and shoving to get to them. With RIP on standby, he too is muscling his way over to get to Louisa and this angry-looking guy. Trent is staring open-mouthed like some sort of gormless fish in front of them but soon turns angry when his brain eventually catches up with what’s going on.

“What the fuck, man?” Trent yells amongst some of the other dancers who are gasping or muttering whispers to each other. “That’s my fiancée!”

The guy merely tsks at him, making it sound menacing before rubbing his head up down against Louisa’s hair.

“Don’t mess with me, ese, this bitch belongs to me,” he says before kissing her temple as if he owns her. I’m pumping with rage while Trent looks positively terrified. Louisa, however, remains indifferent to it all. None of this is fazing her and it’s then that I realize, this is the same guy who I’ve seen hanging around the office, the one that was staring at her the other day.

Before I can reach them, she lifts her leg and kicks him hard, right before she slams her fist into his junk behind. It has him doubling over, so she takes the opportunity to jab her elbow into his nose. He winces and releases a howl of pain. The momentary release of his grip is enough for her to step forward and for RIP to push himself in between them.

The man is livid and begins to lunge toward RIP, but then thinks better of it at the last minute. RIP is built like a brick wall after all, and could squash any guy, even this one. Instead, he spits on the floor between his feet and then points at Louisa with a positively murderous glare.

“I’ll be seeing you again, mi amante; you are mine, Flynn,” he growls at Louisa before storming out.

_____

Louisa

Past

“Lou?!” A crackled, hardly recognizable voice cries down the phone, the sound of its pain forcing me to bolt upright in bed. It can only be Tony, and given that it’s late at night, and he sounds like every sad song rolled into one, I know this can’t be at all good. “Lou, p-please…I…n-need you. Oh God!”

“Tony? What’s wrong? Talk to me!” All I hear for the next few minutes is his retching in the background, the sound bringing instant tears to my eyes. “Tony?!” I shout, but he’s so busy expelling the contents of his stomach, including what sounds like part of his soul, there’s no way he can hear me.

With nothing else coming to mind, I reluctantly run out of my room and into the bar. Sixteen years old and wearing only my PJ bottoms and a tank top, earns me a lot of jeering and wolf whistles from the drunk crowd. Some of them obviously have no idea who my brother is or that I’m related to him. I flinch over their staring at me, looking me up and down like a meal they’d like to devour, but then I remember the anguish in Tony’s voice, so I push my discomfort aside and run toward Dad.

“Lou, what the hell are you doing out here in your nightwear for fuck’s sake?!” Phoenix growls at me from behind before hauling me back behind the bar. Dad looks up from where he’s pulling beer into a glass.

“Lou, what’s wrong, honey?” he asks, being concerned but without Phoenix’s heavy-handed approach. As normal.

“Phoenix, something awful has happened; it’s Tony, he’s crying and being sick. I can’t get him to tell me though!” I explain as he pushes me out back, my hands already placed together like a prayer. “Please, Phoenix, something is really wrong!”

“Ok, ok, let me get Dad; you wait here,” he says and peeks through the door to where a few customers can be seen. “You might not be legal, but it won’t stop those pervs copping a feel if they can!”

I nod rapidly, more than happy to stay away from leery men. I brace my hands against his huge chest, willing him to go and get help for my best friend. Phoenix tells me to wait here while Dad closes the bar early, telling everyone to get lost, to which they groan but ultimately laugh. Dad and Phoenix are well respected, and most know what they’re capable of. All the while the bar empties, I’m pacing and trying to call Tony back. No one answers, which only has me feeling sicker.

“Tony? Javier? What the fuck?!”

It’s Phoenix’s voice and he sounds pitched, totally out of character. Without waiting for anyone’s say so, I rush into the bar to find the Ortega boys all covered in blood. Tony’s face is red and puffy, whereas Javier looks like he’s about to rain fire on the entire planet.

“Tony!” I cry, tears already falling from my blurry eyes.

He looks at me and breaks into a crumbling mess of shivering and crying. The sight has my heart clenching up into a tight knot, but I waste no time in running to his trembling body and pulling him into my arms. For once, no one dares to stop me. He clings tightly to me as he sobs hard against my chest, and I cry with him. I have no idea what has happened or what has caused the blood, the tears, or the fact that his brother looks ready to kill everything and everyone, but his pain, whatever it is, is my pain too.

“Javier?” Dad ventures with obvious caution. “Where are your parents? Where’s Emilio and Ava?”

Tony emits a sound of immense pain from the back of his throat and that’s when I know something awful has happened. Emilio and Ava aren’t here because that awful thing has been done to them. They’re not here because they can’t be…ever again.

“Dead,” Javier confirms, the word sounding like blades crashing together. “Both of their throats slit, with my mother laying naked and abused in the middle of the living room floor!”

Phoenix curses while Dad audibly gasps. The sound of Tony releasing a gut-punching sob has me pulling him even more tightly against my chest until eventually, his limbs give up their tension and turn limp.

“Shit!” Dad whispers before a deafening silence takes over. For a long while, or so it seems, only the sound of Tony’s cries can be heard, but the atmosphere is so heavy, I feel my head hurting under the pressure. “Lou, take Tony out back and look after him. Boys, let’s go and, er…well, let’s go to your place, Javier.”

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