Page 32 of Hunter

Three hours to snap out of my mood and become royally pissed.

Pissed didn’t even cover it. I was furious.

“That bastard!” I hissed.

My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, and I felt ready to do something stupid, like smash up his truck or rewire his radio to only play classical music.

I reached for the dials as a figure emerged from the door.

He came out of the side door with a hood over his head, but it only took a second to size him up. He was almost as big as Hunter, but a little broader, and his stride was a longer. Other than that, the hood covered the rest of his features so I couldn’t distinguish him.

I curiously watched him stroll past as he kept his head low and traipsed around the back of the truck, where he paused and turned to look back at the building.

My heart stopped.

It might have been dark under the cover of late dusk, and I might have been going out of my mind with rage, but I couldn’t have missed that face.

The sharper cheekbones, the deep-seated eyes, and the softly curled blond hair; shorter than I had last seen it, but still long around his face.

When he turned and walked away from the truck, I went into overdrive.

I realized people underestimated me too often as I reached for a piece of paper from the dashboard and went to work popping the plastic casing underneath the wheel. Wires linked to switches and buttons, and other stuff that made my mind race as I began separating them. When I found the ones I wanted, I tore off the protective casing and twisted the wires, causing the truck’s engine to roar to life. I clicked the unlock button and turned, kicking open the door before stumbling toward the concrete.

I was on my feet in seconds, my flats slapping against the ground as I raced forward to the other end of the parking lot. I ran until my breath was labored, skidding to a stop at the gate.

A prospect, who was leaning up against the railing, jumped at the sight of me.

A flash of black disappeared around the corner, and I ran like hell after it.

It kept dipping out of my sight, but I didn’t lose it until I stopped dead in the center of an abandoned kids’ playground.

“Wh …” I breathed, about to turn and look.

I didn’t get a chance as something hard slammed into my back. Only the hollowing ringing of metal joined me as I fell into darkness.

Chapter Eleven

Hunter

Isat in the backyard, keys swinging around my finger. I had simmered down since leaving Mallory in the truck for the better part of three hours—it usually took that long before she calmed down.

Adair played with Ripper’s two little girls as the man watched over them from the seat next to me. He was a huge man, bigger than me, which said things, and had a long etching scar distorting one side of his face, but he was the softest thing in the world when it came to his two little girls. They had become his world since his old lady had died last spring.

“Ain’t nothing like being a dad,” Ripper said, handing me a beer from the cooler between us. “Brightens up your world and scares the shit out of you more than anything.” He chuckled like that shit was funny, only because I had nearly had a heart attack when Adair had found himself on top of the climbing frame the bigger kids were playing on. The ringleader who orchestrated it was Ripper’s oldest boy at ten, a devil incarnate who kept Ripper on his toes.

“Yeah, nothing like it,” I grumbled into my beer. It was only my second, and I wouldn’t drink anymore since I was the one driving. Normally, I would crash at the clubhouse once the kids and women went home and the real party started, but I didn’t want Adair staying here when the parties got wild, nor Mallory.

Wolf stepped up behind me and reached into the cooler to snatch himself a beer. He took a long swig before sitting in a lawn chair beside Ripper, looking out at all the kids. Most of them were the bikers’ kids, others were friends and locals.

“Busy night, Prez?” I asked, watching the man down as much beer from the neck of the glass as he could get out of it.

“Staying in that office for too long drives me up the wall.” Wolf sighed. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll get you something, Prez.” Ripper chuckled, slapping Wolf’s shoulder.

“Get one of the women to do it,” Wolf countered.

“Anna’s cooking.”

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