Page 91 of Hunter
As soon asI got back to the locker room, I was dumping the phone bucket on the floor and searching for mine. I needed to find Ed. We needed to figure out the next steps. I needed to know that she was still safe with Alv.
The absolute fucking panic that I was having was paralyzing my fingers, and I kept fumbling my phone. I couldn’t get it to fucking work. Aside from last fall when I held her limp body in my arms, I can honestly say that I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so fucking helpless in my life than I did in this moment.
I couldn’t even lose the right way, and now it might cost me everything. The one fucking thing that I was supposed to do, and I couldn’t even pull that off to keep my girl safe. Payton’s psychotic promise to kill Ed if I didn’t deliver played over and over in my head. I wasn’t thinking about the fucking win that the boys pulled out of their asses tonight. No, I was reliving Payton holding up a gun and threatening the love of my fucking life.
I was in the locker room with the team when I heard the arena alarm go off. I legit had just gotten out of the fucking shower when that shit started screaming out with a blinking light that broke up the celebration and sent the guys scrambling to grab their shit and get the fuck out.
I moved as fast as I could and threw my clothes over my wet skin before stuffing my wallet, keys, and phone into my pocket. And then I had to help my brother. He was getting his feet taped, and I grabbed all his shit and ran to the PT room.
Before all that, the boys were getting hyped for a party that was being put together to celebrate the win and the Devils advancing on. I’m not in a fucking party mood, and the boys finally got the fucking hint.
I called Ed as we all jogged our way out of the tunnel. It went straight to voicemail, but I wasn’t losing my shit yet. I had a backup plan. The other night, I pulled the AirTag that I use to track my gear out of my duffle bag and safety-pinned that shit to the inner fold of her black beanie while she was sleeping. Thank fuck that I did, because Alvi texted to let me know that she dipped out on him as they were walking out of the game. I don’t know why, but I had a fucking feeling that this little demon would pull some shit like that. I started tracking her ass and pulled up the location app to see where the fuck she was.
“Where you going, Ed?” I asked out loud to myself and texted it to her ass as well. Her dot is moving away from the arena, and with each step she takes, she’s getting further away from me. Idon’t fucking like that, and neither does the dragon in my gut. He starts to exhale smoke from his nostrils, and it burns the lining of my lungs when I try to take a fucking breath. I can’t breathe. She’s fucking leaving. No, no, no, no, no.
As soon as Alvi sent the text that Ed had gotten separated from the group, I called his ass but couldn’t hear him over the fucking noise. My skin felt like it was crawling as I went back to text and told him where to fucking meet me. Her dot was moving towards the shop, so that’s where I told him to go as I barrelled through the crowd of fans blocking our
FIFTY-EIGHT
The gas pedalis touching the floor beneath my foot as my man holds on to the oh shit handle for dear life in the passenger seat beside me. Dylan is shouting for me to slow down from somewhere in the back of the car, but I barely hear him.
My mind is far away from here, and I’m back in New York. My heart is racing a mile a minute, and I’m breaking every traffic law. I have a million reasons to hate Valentine already, and she just added another bullet point to the list. I know that she and her hockey boyfriend backed out on purpose to fuck us over.
They never had any intention of following through with our deal. I promised them that I’d shoot her, and I’m going to make good on that shit now. She may not keep her fucking word, but I sure as hell do. I gave them a chance, and to be completely honest, that bitch has been on borrowed time.
I can see Alvino’s shop up ahead, but there’s no light on in the building. I don’t know if they’re too chicken shit to show themselves or if Val has disappeared again, but I head there anyway.
“Mama, slow down!” Gabe shouts. He’s reaching for the wheel and demanding that I stop the car, but I’m too far gone. She’s taken EVERYTHING from me. My dad, years with my man, my money, and my life–now I’m going to take hers. I don’t care that she’s his cousin. She sure as fuck didn’t care when he got locked up. She owes me for everything she’s stolen from me. Today, she pays one way or the other.
I slam on the brakes, and the tires seize up as I see a black silhouette moving in the shadows of a building just down the road from the tattoo shop. I saw it in her eyes, the moment that the game ended. She thought that she could get away from me again, but there’s nowhere she could go to hide from me this time. I’d chase her back to New York if I had to.
The back passenger door opens behind me before I even come to a complete stop, and my hands start to shake. I don’t know who Dylan thinks he is, trying to steal my retribution, but he needs to get in line. Loyalty is important, but from the body-cam footage we all watched, his friend deserved what he got. Val and I have a score to settle that goes back for years, and I’m here to win.
“You fucking bitch!” Dylan screams out into the night as he sprints to the back of the building. Gabe and I are on foot, following them both now, but he’s further ahead. We make it tothe back alleyway, just as a motion sensor light flips on at the back door of the building beside us.
FIFTY-NINE
My demon is booking it.I’m trying to get to her, but she’s moving just as fast as I am, and to be honest, I don’t think I’m gaining any ground. No one drove to the game tonight, and even if there was a car available, the line to get out of the parking garage is fucking crazy. I can see all the headlights lined up from here.
All I do is run after this girl. There’s got to be some symbolism involved here, or some philosophical shit that can be derived from all the times that I’ve ended up sprinting likea maniac to get to her. It makes me feel like my brother, and it really does have me questioning just how clinically insane I actually am. With every grueling step that I take, I know deep down that I’d run to hell for her, just like Chase would sprint all over the world for Red.
Or in this case, for me. Because I can hear him, Max, and Alvi catching up, it doesn’t matter that they just skated and dominated out on the ice for the past two hours; they’re right behind me. And Alv had leg day today, so I know his old ass is hurting.
I’m strangling my phone to death with her location on my GPS, while my arms pump my adrenaline-filled body forward. It feels like fucking deja vu. Last November, I was also running to her and squeezing the shit out of a voicemail-filled screen.
It really is like I’m coming full circle with her. Maybe I’m finally closing the fucking loop with all this drama and shit that I can’t seem to outrun. Maybe it wasn’t the actual game that was the redemption, maybe it’s this.
I hook a right and bypass Jock Row; it’s gonna be wild down there with people partying, and I feel air get caught in my chest.I still can’t believe I didn’t tank the game.
My sisterkeepscalling me, and Ikeepsending her to voicemail. Meanwhile, her incoming callskeepcancelling out the calls I’m trying to make to Ed. It makes me wanna fucking scream.
“FFUUCCKKK!” I scream in frustration when I can’t get through to her again, just as a black Tahoe pulls up alongside us.
“Get in, boss,” Tommy yells out to Alvi as his face appears in the passenger side descending tinted window. He nods his head for all of us to get in, and we fucking listen; even Max and my brother, who have no fucking idea what the hell is going on.
“Where to?” One of the Family guys asks over his shoulder from the driver’s seat. As soon as I pull the back door shut, I zoom in on Ed’s dot.
“1389 South River Road. She’s on the east side of the building,” I shout over the packed car. Tommy must’ve tracked Alvi, which makes sense. He told me that he was gonna have guys out tonight, especially after word spread about the game. “Why do I know that address?” I say out loud while staring at it. “Thirteen, eighty-seven, nah wait, I mean eighty-nine –”
