Page 158 of The Hunt

I knew that blood couldn’t have come from any of the Patriarchs, given the distance he’d shot them from, and my stomach lurched violently as the most likely source of it occurred to me.Nikki.

Peter gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up, but Rhett switched his aim and fired a warning shot into the ground next to his hand. “Don’t even try,” he growled. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until you’ve paid for everything you’ve done.”

Peter weakly cried out, and Rhett smiled. “You’re right. You can’t really pay for everything you’ve done,” he said in a mocking tone, as if Peter had actually spoken. “But I think the gut shot is a good start, at least.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched him.

“It’ll take you a long time to die, and it’s going to hurt like hell,” he went on, smile widening. “The acid from your stomach will slowly eat through your other organs while you bleed out from the inside, and your last moments will be spent choking on your own blood. But it’s still a better death than what you deserve.”

“Please…” Peter choked out. “End it now. Shoot me in the head. Like the others.”

Rhett’s brows knitted as his lips twisted in contemplation. “No,” he finally said, crouching to remove Peter’s guns from him, just in case he found the tiniest bit of strength to fight back before he died. “You don’t deserve that.”

Richard looked on, palms raised and eyes wide. “Rhett,” he said in a low voice. “I tried to stop him. I would never have let him kill you.”

“I know. I heard.” Rhett slowly rose to his feet, regarding his father with a cold gaze. “But you’re still one of them.”

“I’m also your father.” Richard’s voice had turned shaky. “I only ever wanted what was best for you. I even had Jessica killed for you.”

I almost laughed at how weak he sounded. He might as well have been begging for forgiveness, but no amount of remorse could undo the years of destruction he’d helped orchestrate. He was just as guilty as the rest of them.

“Because of our blood ties, I’m going to give you a choice here, unlike the rest of them.” Rhett waved a gun at the dead bodies scattered around the clearing. “You can take responsibility for all of this. Spend the rest of your life rotting in prison. Or, if you prefer, you can take a clean shot to the head like the others. It’ll be fast. Painless. So… what’s it going to be?”

Richard’s gaze flickered between the bodies on the ground and the barrel of Rhett’s gun. I could see the struggle in his eyes. He didn’t want to die, but he also wasn’t the kind of man who wanted to face the consequences of his actions.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I want out, Rhett,” he said. “Just… please tell your mother and sister I died fighting.”

I felt a strange mixture of emotions churn inside me—satisfaction and relief, and maybe even a hint of pity, because he was Rhett’s father. But mostly, there was the cold, undeniable certainty that nothing he said or did could change the fact that he was just as responsible for everything as the other Patriarchs.

His shoulders slumped as he awaited Rhett’s next move, acceptance settling over his features.

Rhett raised the gun again, steadying his aim.

I held my breath, my eyes locked on Richard as his gaze dropped to the ground. I couldn’t look away, even though I knew what was coming.

A shot rang out, sharp and final, and he crumpled to the ground.

There was no scream. No struggle. Just the dull thud of his body; a man who’d lived by the rules of this brutal world and died by them as well.

Rhett’s focus shifted to me, eyes burning with an intensity I’d never seen before. Without another word, he rushed over, and in one smooth motion, he was kneeling beside me, his hands pulling at the ropes that bound me to the pole.

My vision blurred, and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. “I was so scared.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured as his fingers worked frantically to untie the knots. “I can’t even imagine how fucking horrible it was for you, thinking you were about to die. But you’re safe now. I promise.”

I shook my head. “No, I meant I was scared foryou,” I said, voice coming out in a shaky whisper. “I… I know this sounds crazy to say so soon, but I—”

The last of the ropes suddenly loosened, and I fell into Rhett’s arms, words drying up in my throat. He pulled me against him, his breath ragged in my ear, and I clung to him, feeling the thudding of his heart, his warmth, his strength.

“I think I know what you wanted to say just then,” he whispered fiercely, his voice strained with emotion. His hands cupped my face, and I felt his lips brush against my forehead. “But I want to say it first. I love you, Everly. I fuckingloveyou. And no one will ever hurt you again. I swear it.”

A lump instantly formed in my throat. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Without warning, he crushed his lips to mine. It was urgent, desperate, as if he needed to feel me—really feel me—after everything we’d been through.

The kiss deepened, a flood of relief and yearning pouring into each touch, and his hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, like he was afraid I might disappear if he ever let go.

I kissed him back with everything I had, my hands threading through his hair, not caring about the blood, the fear, or the chaos that had just unfolded around us. All that mattered was that we were together.

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