Page 62 of Hunter

Their words couldn’t hurt me.

Their next words proved otherwise.

“You may have fucked over one brother already, bitch,” the girl spat. “But you can’t have the other one. Hunter’s ours. We won’t let you kill Hunter like you did Noble.”

Wait.

“What?” stumbled out of my mouth as my mind rushed to analyze her words. Noble? Did she say …Noble?

“Yeah, we all know about your little stunt, you whore. Tried to trap Noble with that kid of yours when you got knocked up. You wanted him all for yourself, didn’t you? Trash like you are fucking selfish. You’re probably the reason he’s dead, and now you’re trying it all over again with Hunter.”

I couldn’t … I …

Rational thoughts went out the window. Flashes of memories of Noble walking away from me went through my mind. And then that day as I had gone around the corner to the clubhouse to apologize … only to see a funeral.

Noble’s funeral.

Don’t let them see you hurt.

There was no way they couldn’t see it. I could feel the agony returning, a gate bursting open, swelling with emotion.

I found myself staring at the girl. Her mouth was moving, but no sound hit my ears. My face was frozen. I wasn’t even crying, yet I felt myself breaking.

I had refused for almost four years to feel any emotion, other than positive gratitude and love for the man who had given me Adair. I had refused to feel grief for a man I had chased onto that bike. I had buried it deeply. I didn’t deserve it.

Now, all my effort to keep it at bay had come undone.

I thought I was going to cry. Thought I was going to break into a million pieces. I even thought maybe I could stand there forever. With such an intense wave of emotion, it was unpredictable what could happen. I had no idea what direction it would go in. However, I knew which direction my eyes went.

They went far past the girl and their circle, past the noise and threats and bitching, and to a door that sat out of the corner of my eye.

Brothers had their names engraved on the doors, and I had come across quite a few weird ones. But in my forty-eight hours here, I hadn’t had the chance to see all of them. Therefore, when I spotted that door, my vision tunneled. I didn’t think as I took a step toward it.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” the brunette bitch snarled, wrapping her hand around my shoulder. She probably wasn’t trying to provoke me. Well, not for a physical reaction, anyway. She probably wanted to knock me down a bit more. And on any other day, I wouldn’t have responded.

Today wasn’t any other day.

I lunged.

The intensity of my emotions channeled. The great wave slammed into me hard, knocking my consciousness far from control. I felt far away as I watched myself swing at the girl.

I had never been in a fight in my entire life. I liked to think of myself as a pacifist. But this, grabbing a handful of hair, crisp from too much spray, and slamming her face into my knee, none of it was peaceful.

I heard her nose break and watched the spray of blood as it smeared across my knee. She screamed, but I didn’t listen. I only looked for places to attack and hurt, grabbing the redhead’s nipples and almost ripping them off.

They fought back, of course, and with six against me, none of us really fighters but scrapping with raw fury, I was getting more than I was dishing out. I didn’t care, though. I hit where I could and bit whatever was near.

I was afraid I wouldn’t stop.

And I didn’t.

Not on my own.

Large hands came around my biceps, tearing me from the mess. Other brothers shouted and cursed as they threw themselves between the whores and me. The girls screamed as they tried to reach me, but the second I was pulled away, I stopped fighting.

I felt the anger slip away from me and fell limp in the arms pinning me. I felt heavy and exhausted. I felt numb. I knew tomorrow would be a bitch when everything would hurt and sting and ache, but tomorrow was for caring. Today, I let myself go far away from the world until nothing mattered and let the wave of emotions sink into the depths of my heart once more.

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