Page 88 of Hunter

They were here. The Black Angels were here for me.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hunter

Shit, we had been noticed.

Tension fluttered across the men, all hidden behind the small crates and metal pillars scattered around one edge of the mass clearing.

I looked at Mallory in the center, at least one hundred and sixty feet from me, her hands bound above her head, red hair falling around her face, eyes searching everywhere. She looked so tiny and fragile as she stood next to the Hell’s Runners’ president.

I had never met him before, but from what I had just heard and by looking at him, he lived up to his name.

Spider.

Fuck, we were all caught in his web without even knowing it.

I looked at Wolf, who stood on the other side of the crate, and he looked at me, his eyes narrowed and body tensed. Despite the twitch of my trigger finger telling me to shoot the bastard for touching a hair on Mallory’s head, I awaited orders.

Wolf looked up and around the room, probably looking for the other men. We couldn’t see them, but at the same time, I doubted they could see us. It was possibly a bluff, but I doubted Spider would let the whole of the Black Angels club storm in here without secure protection.

Spider must have lost his patience, because I heard Mallory scream. When I looked, Spider had a knife pressed against her neck, blood dripping down her pale skin.

“Just because violence doesn’t work against you, sweetheart, doesn’t mean it won’t work against them,” Spider told her.

A red filter fell across my eyes. My chest soared with a rage I had never experienced. My bloodlust skyrocketed as I pointed my gun in Spider’s direction.

He pressed the knife harder into Mallory’s neck, and I—

“Stop!”

I froze.

Wolf seized the opportunity to grab me by my cut and drag me back behind the crate.

Spider looked toward the other side of the warehouse where a man stepped out of the shadows. His front was turned away from us, so I couldn’t make out his face. All I could see was Mallory’s reaction.

She went as stiff as a board. Her eyes went wide, her mouth dropped open, and I was sure she had stopped breathing. A silence dawned over her, and I felt as if I was watching her crumble right before my eyes.

“No,” she whispered, tears falling down her face as she softly shook her head. “No … It can’t be you.”

Even Spider looked surprised as he looked down at her.

She was pressing herself as far away from the stranger as she could, even if that meant closer to Spider. She didn’t look like she cared. Whatever stood before her was far worse.

“No!” she screeched, bucking against Spider.

It was like she wasn’t even aware of the knife against her neck, cutting deeper into her skin with every jerk of her body.

Spider dragged the knife away from her throat, and Mallory’s body tried to curl into itself. Her eyes never left the stranger’s face.

“Who is it?” I asked Wolf. Even he was stiff with surprise.

The second I asked, the stranger moved.

Spider tensed as the stranger reached for his hood. He lifted the edges and let it fall back. A head of golden hair was revealed beneath, curled and short against his head.

“It can’t be …” I whispered.

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