Page 29 of Hunter

Hunter

Twenty prestige vehicles sit inside the hangar. The final preparations for removing any trace of their identity are being made. My men work tirelessly so we can meet Rodion’s delivery deadline. The uncertainty with our Russian customers has been giving me sleepless nights. They aren’t men I want to anger. The danger to myself isn’t as much of a concern as the threats against the families of the men closest to me.

Since Isabella’s return into my life, I’ve become highly aware of what my friends surrounding me have to lose if the shit were to hit the fan. Harrison and Damon are fathers with not only their women to care for but also their offspring. Russell and Connor have Samantha, who, in all honesty, could probably stand up for herself better than most men I know. My mind wanders back to the time she kicked me in the balls for trying to tell her what to do. That woman has guts. But I could never forgive myself if one of them was hurt because of my inability to manage the situation.

“Where’s your head, Devane?” Connor asks. “It’s not here, that’s for sure.”

“In bed with that wife of his,” Russell pipes up, and the two idiots snigger at one another. If I were to sacrifice anyone, it would be one of them. The line between love and hate blurs as they speak.

“I wish,” I mutter. “But I don’t think that will happen anytime soon.”

“Well, what’s eating at you?” Harrison joins the conversation. He wandered over as soon as we started talking, his nosiness no doubt getting the better of him. Damon is still working diligently around each vehicle to ensure nothing has been missed.

“I was thinking about how different our lives are from a few years back.”

“Tell me about it. Between Violet and Evie, I barely sleep,” Harrison says, but he smiles immediately at his wife and daughter’s names. He’s taken on the role of a father with complete ease. His lack of one has only made him better at it. “And when our little bump joins, heaven help me.”

“You’re going to be a dead man,” Russell goads. “Since my sister put that collar round your neck, you’ve been a pussy.”

“Fuck off.” Harrison gives his brother-in-law the finger, but there’s an undeniable warmth in the words. “I’ll tell her you said that, and you can feel her madness.”

“Are you fuckwits planning on doing any work?” We all turn as a group as Damon strides over to join us. “Or am I the little bitch here?”

Russell wanders over to our friend. They are both big guys and stand at eye level with one another. He grabs Damon’s shoulder, shaking it gently.

“McKinney,” he says. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but…” There is a pause as he smiles before saying something that will no doubt cause a run-in. “You’ve always been my little bitch, but I love you for it.”

Damon's face darkens dramatically. He returns to looking at the paperwork in his hands. Thinking he’s won, Russell turns away; he doesn’t see his opponent's first move. Damon grabs his arms, twisting them viscously behind his back. He knocks away his legs, and the two men crumble to the floor.

The paperwork being so precisely checked goes flying as they wrestle like teenage boys. Damon maneuvers Russell into a headlock, pulling his neck backward at a painful angle.

“Tap out,” he snarls. Russell bares his teeth but doesn't speak. “Tap out, dickhead.”

The rest of us watch the proceedings, amused glances flitting from one to the other. Connor steps forward and taps the sole of his brother’s shoe with his toe.

“You’re beaten, bro. Tap out.”

“No,” Russell gasps between breaths, stubborn as always.

Connor shrugs and wanders off, now bored with the antics. Harrison begins to gather up the strewn papers and then sorts them into some order. We leave the two testosterone-filled idiots on the floor arguing over who’s going to give up first.

“So,” Harrison says as we cross off the final cars to be loaded in containers. “You were saying how much life has changed. What does it have you thinking about?”

Uncomfortable but not surprised by his direct question, I try to put my feelings in some order without sounding pathetic. My actions over the years to protect my friends and their families have shown I care, but it’s never something I say out loud. Hiding behind the mask of who I’m meant to be is more comfortable than allowing empathy to show too freely.

“Look around,” I tell him, opening my arms wide at the rows of cars. “Is this really worth the risk? Lots of people have lost someone they love as payback for a deal gone wrong, and I don’t want it to happen to one of us. It was okay when we…” I stop talking thinking I’ve given him enough information to understand my position.

“When we were all single and had nothing to lose,” he finishes my sentence. “I’ve been thinking the same way, but you’ve always been married. What’s changed?”

His question this time does surprise me, because the reason for my change in attitude is something I haven’t considered much myself. Since losing Isabella, my life has run on chaos and danger. I love the thrill of dispensing justice on my own terms and outwitting whatever idiot had pissed me off. Now, tonight, seeing all the stock ready to ship and knowing the increase my bank balance will receive in the process doesn’t seem so exciting. The potential trade-off is too terrifying.

“This time,” I begin, knowing that there’s no going back once I say the words out loud, “I think we have a chance. And I don’t want my actions or business dealings to jeopardize that.”

We stare at one another, no other words spoken but a distinct understanding of the conflict I feel. He felt the same way when Violet came back into his life, no doubt.

“Can I join the therapy session?” Connor asks, joining our group.

“Sure,” Harrison says. “Hunter is just telling me about finding his romantic side and being tempted into the normality of married life.”

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