Page 51 of Hunter

Isabella

Two women I barely know, and one that I’ve just met for the first time a few minutes ago, gather around me and shuffle me into a chair beside them. Violet, Samantha, and Emma fire questions at me from all directions, I think in an attempt to get to know me.What’s your favorite color? How do you like to relax? Is it true you’re CurvyGurlsCanJiggle?The inquiries keep coming, and I do my best to answer each one before the next one hits my eardrums.

But for every question they ask, I get the impression there are so many more they aren’t. No doubt as I get to know them, if the opportunity arises, they will want to find out all the gory details surrounding my and Hunter’s relationship. Of the few women I’ve called friends since my failed marriage began, most of them wanted an inside view on that.

“Ladies,” Harrison’s voice interrupts the chatter. “If you don’t mind givingusyour attention for a few moments.”

Violet huffs loudly but sits back in her chair and places her hands over her small bump. There is no missing her husband’s eyes following them as if ensuring his baby is safely where it should be. He smiles a little then clears his throat. The men all come to take a seat, so we are left sitting around the table as the two toddlers waddle around our feet.

“Thank you, Waite,” Hunter says with a nod. “Okay, the reason I asked for you all to come here is there are a few issues you all need to be aware of.”

The atmosphere in the room immediately changes as everyone gets on the same page. This isn’t just a social occasion, a way to bring us all into the same room. There is a meaning behind it, and the expression on Hunter’s face tells me it isn’t a good one.

“As you all know, the world we live in comes with its challenges.”

“You can say that again,” Samantha heckles. “And most of them are because of you.”

Hunter scowls at her, but I’m sure I see admiration in his eyes. I noticed the same at the fight night. She stood up against him, and he liked it. His attitude doesn’t make me uneasy. There isn’t a sexual element to the relationship, but there is respect. He admires her as a strong woman who speaks her mind, and that’s a very endearing quality for a man to have.

“That is true, Sam,” he agrees. “I do give all your men somewhat of a headache on a monthly basis.”

“Monthly?” Connor scoffs, he looks at his brother who grins.

“More like fucking daily, bro,” Russell suggests. The men high five like teenagers, congratulating each other in their agreement. Samantha smiles giddily at the pair of them, and bizarrely the relationship between the three makes sense. Between her strength, Connor’s sense, and Russell’s antics, they blend together perfectly.

“Monthly, daily, hourly. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this time the situation is sensitive.” It’s Damon’s turn to snort with laughter now. All attention turns to him as he covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hide the laughter. Hunter stops speaking and places his hands on his hips, clearly pissed to be interrupted again. “Say what the fuck you want to say.”

“No, no,” Damon says. “You carry on highlighting the issues that are sensitive.” He bursts into hysterical laughter now. Emma, who is sitting next to me, stands up and stalks over to him at the other side of the table. She slaps his shoulder as if annoyed, and that only makes him convulse harder.

“Damon, pull yourself together.” She places her hands on her hips and straightens her frame. Dressed as if ready for the law office, she looks formidable, and I can imagine her in a courtroom battling for the win. “What could be so funny?” There is a pause as she waits for him to fill in the blanks, when he doesn’t answer, she answers for him. “Is it the fact Hunter is attempting to seem the sensible one? Or the fact he’s saying this is a sensitive situation?”

This sends Damon over the edge, while everyone else looks completely perplexed.

“Inside joke,” Emma mutters.

“At my expense, no doubt.” Hunter straightens his shoulders as Damon brings himself back under control.

“Makes a fucking change. Your sensitive issues are normally at everybody else’s expense. Either a body part, potential death, or our wallet being emptied,” Russell pipes up.

I sit back in my chair and watch on as the exchange between them all continues, each person in the room taking turns to poke at Hunter. He fights back with slight jibes, but overall it’s light hearted, and he seems to be enjoying the connection. It’s then I realize I am sitting amongst a group of true friends. They have that amazing blend of love and humor that only people who truly trust each other can get away with.

“Are you all ready to hear my confession?” Hunter asks, and they all fall silent. “Good. So, sit back ladies, because I’m sure you’re not going to be happy with me.”

Soon thereafter, Hunter is pouring us each a glass of wine, except for Violet, as he lets what he has told us sink in. All our lives are in danger because of how his current business dealings with Rodion Anastasov of Russia have turned sour in recent weeks. I watched my female companions as he spoke, attempting to assess how much of the groups dealings they are aware of. The relaxed look on their faces told me it was plenty, none of what he said was a surprise.

“So, let me get this right,” Emma says. Though she is the youngest, she seems to be the most put together. As Hunter spoke, she was scribbling notes down on a pad. I suppose that will be the lawyer in her coming into play, always stacking up the evidence to use later. “You have been stealing prestige vehicles to order and shipping them to Moscow via Africa?”

“That’s right, Spitfire. I told you…” Damon confirms, but she shoots him a look. He shuts up immediately.

“Yes, I was aware there were some vehicles being sold. I wasn’t aware how they were being acquired or who your customer was.” Emma starts to walk around the room, her hands behind her back. We all watch her intently, wondering what she is going to ask next. “And the first shipment was sunk?”

“Yes, the black box has confirmed the ship sank three days into its journey,” Hunter tells her. “It was recovered after the fact. The sinking is being blamed on bad weather.”

“And this one is now missing?”

“Yes, we still have no details on where it is. The black box on that vessel has gone silent.”

“So, what are you being accused of? Who wants to get even?” Emma asks Hunter directly. “First of all, I don’t believe this is only to do with cars. Most of these people have enough money to buy a garage full. What are you not telling us?”

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