Page 163 of Altered

But he was here.

Howwas hehere?

"How is this happening?" I was screaming. I could hear my own voice, though it sure as hell didn’t sound like my voice. "You're here."

My voice was rising higher and higher with every word that spilled from my lips.

"Wake me up, Mom," I cried, clutching my mother like she was the last thread I had to reality. "Please, Mom, wake me up. This hurts too badly."

Mom looked absolutely dumbfounded as she stared at the man like he was a walking miracle.

"Lucky," she choked out, wide-eyed and stunned. "You were dead."

"Been there a few times lately, Lee," he replied, tone hoarse. "Have no plans on going back."

"Hu-hunter?" I strangled out, barely trusting my own mind right now. "Hunter?"

His blue eyes landed on my face then, so full of heat andlifethat I felt faint.

"Been through hell to get back to you, sweetheart," he said, tone gruff. "Literally."

"Lucky!" Mom shook her head in wonder. "But how…I don’t… but you're… how are you –"

"How am I here?" he croaked out. "It's a very long, very drawn out and bloody story." He rolled his shoulders and gestured to the doorway before adding, "This asshole here can fill you in."

And then in walked a grizzly looking man with greasy black hair and a matching beard.

Gonzalez?

"Aye, aye, aye, Bolillo," Gonzalez said in a thick Spanish accent. "You still calling me an asshole?"

"You killed me," Hunter shot back without missing a beat. "Anyone who kills me is an asshole in my book, G."

"Only a little," he chuckled.

"A little?" Hunter arched a brow at the man. "You shot me. Three fucking times. How 'bout I kill you a little and see how you like it?"

"You asked for my help, Bolillo, and that is what I have given you."

"Exactly," Hunter grumbled. "I asked for your help, G. Not half a dozen holes in my body."

"Three holes," Gonzalez corrected. "And I brought you back, didn’t I?"

"Hell fucking no, you didn’t bring me back, asshole," Hunter retorted. "Your doctor on demand brought me back. And then you rigged me up to a bag of blood, stuck me in the back of a goddamn cargo truck, and shipped me over the border to some shitty degenerate hospital in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. You left me in Mexico,friend. In a fucking coma formonths.Where my goddamn organs were almostharvested! I'm lucky to have gotten out of that place with only a spleen missing."

"Don’t be so dramatic, Bolillo," Gonzalez laughed. "You were safe."

"Safe? You call being starved, beaten, and thrown into fighting rings when I could barely hold a blade,safe?" Hunter countered hotly. "You have a funny fucking understanding of the wordsafe,G."

"And yet, here you are," he countered, grinning widely. "Your enemies think you are dead. This piece of shit is close to death becausehe thoughtyou were dead – because he let his guard down. And your woman is alive and well with a belly full of Bolillo." Shrugging, Gonzalez threw his hands up and said, "I see that as a glorious success, and a debt paid in full."

The sound of gurgling distracted him then, and Hunter turned his attention to David who was lying on his back as a steady stream of blood oozed from his body.

"Feel that, asshole?" Hunter hissed, standing over David, with the nozzle of his gun aimed at his forehead. "Yeah, I know you're feeling it." Hunter grinned darkly and said, "That's your body drowning itself. Doesn’t feel good, does it? That slow, aching pain? That desperate clawing need to drag air into your lungs? Won't help if you do. There's a hole in it."

He pressed his boot on David's chest and chuckled.

"Feel it, you sick son of a bitch." He pressed down harder, causing David to twitch violently. "The blood slowly leaving your body. Your pulse weakening. Feel how absolutely fucking horrifying the sensation of death is when you are in your full senses."

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