Page 3 of Hunter

He looked at the open doorway, and then at the worm in his hand with panic. Then he toddled over to the bushes and threw the worm into it just as his mother appeared in the doorway.

She took one look at his dirty face and hands, and scowled. “Adair Michael Ward,” she growled, stalking across the lawn to stand in front of him, hands set on the small curves of her waist, looking down with her disapproving mom stare.

Adair smiled, hiding his hands behind his back like she hadn’t seen him.

She raised an eyebrow before giving a heavy sigh and scooping the child up. “What have I told you about getting covered in mud?” She might have passed for mad had she not been trying to fight the light-hearted smile turning the corner of her lips.

Her eyes went soft with adoration at the child’s features. His happy smile was all that was needed to completely win her over.

“Sorry, Mommy.” Adair pouted.

Mallory May Ward narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to do it again?”

Adair shook his head with such force his chubby cheeks wobbled. “No.”

Mallory waited a few seconds before she caved, and at the change in her expression, the little rug rat slung his arms around her neck and squeezed.

After a few minutes of cuddling in the front yard, Mallory turned with her son in her arms and walked up the drive of the old Denver ranch house that was one accidental bump from collapsing.

Once they were inside, I fired up my engine and drove the last few feet toward the front of the house, pulling my liquid ink Harley up onto the driveway and cutting the engine.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a face dart from the window as I swung my leg off the back of the machine. My cut hung over the expanse of my back, my colors and patches clearly showing who I was. Or, at least who I belonged to.

I knew Mallory wouldn’t recognize me. She would, however, recognize the black-winged skull stamped on my back, and her reaction would be as I predicted.

I heard silence from the house that only moments ago had been filled with laughter, and as I approached the door, I heard the sharp click of the chain link behind it.

Like that would stop me.

I pressed my ear to the door and heard the soft patter of footsteps racing away from the door to the other side of the house. Then I lifted my boot and kicked, the door giving away under the force and swinging open, golden links scattering across the scratched wood-floored hallway.

I squeezed through the tiny doorway, stepping over the wreckage as I headed down the hallway. That was when I heard the slam of a door on the other side of the house.

Wasting no time, I marched down the short hallway where another corridor led me to three more doors. All were shut. I kept my ears on high alert as I checked each one in silence.

As I reached for door number two, I heard the kid’s muffled whimpers.

I grabbed the handle, and as I went to turn it, it jammed. Locked.

“Mallory!” I yelled through the door. “Unlock the door.”

No response.

“Open this damn door now, or I’ll bust it down myself.”

This time, her fear-strained voice came from beyond the door. “I’ll call the cops!”

“Then I’ll make sure they arrest you for kidnapping!” I returned.

“Bullshit!” she snapped back, surprising me.

I sure as hell had never met her before, but from what people had told me, Mallory was supposed to be a quiet girl, submissive. She must have changed in the last three and a half years.

At her snap, Adair began crying, and she softly cooed back.

“Mallory Ward, open this door now.”

“Like hell I’ll open for a Black Angel,” she hissed.

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