Seven
Hunter
His cock was sore, and his back burned from Skye’s claw marks. He found he hardly craved a smoke the days he fucked her to oblivion and back.
Those days were more often than few.
If it were up to him, he’d have her all day long. But being on the Road meant there were longer pauses in between the ruthless fucking. Miles was taking it easy on him. The jobs were nearby; payment demands and such from local businesses, and those were frequently quick and easy.
“The strife rests beyond Brown Bay,” Miles explained to him. “We are creeping into claimed territory. Oftentimes they’re gangbangers with a bit of money in their pockets. Nothing serious. The gunfire is minimal, the conflict never petering far enough out that we’re surrounded by it. We never want that. We only go after what we can. As we grow in numbers, we grow in gunpower, and then we creep further out, until we have this side of the country inch by precious inch.” Miles eyed him then. “By then, you’ll expect we’ll be gone for weeks at a time.”
It unnerved Hunter to think there would come a time he would be without Skye for so long. He didn’t have her enough as it was. And those were the moments he questioned himself. He didn’t want to be so deep in this lifestyle that he might never touch upon the life he led before. That life still existed within him now, and he experienced it when he was with Skye.
So, fuck, perhaps he wondered a time or two whether this was the correct path. And perhaps—both times he considered this—he concluded that he would throw it away to be with her.
“If this robs me of her, I’ll leave,” he promised himself.
Until then, he went on the Road.
There was deep satisfaction in having a purpose. A freedom he experienced on his bike that couldn’t be described. Well, he could describe it actually. It was the same feeling he felt when he was inside Skye: he belonged to her, and that was how he felt on the Road. He belonged out there, always wondering what lay beyond the horizon. It silenced the savage, made it lay dormant within him.
Riding into the unknown was exhilarating.
It was what he was born to do.
*
The pub was empty when he came back one night with Miles and Faden (one of the older, more experienced bikers). Faden was a trash talker, a typical fucking lad, always stirring the pot. When he wasn’t coughing out a lung, he was the prankster, and he could be annoying as all fuck.
“When you treating that fucking throat?” Miles had asked him on their way inside the pub.
“My lungs are gone, man,” Faden returned on a shrug. “My days are fucking numbered now.”
Hunter frowned, glancing fleetingly at Miles who was pursing his lips with disapproval. “You need treatment, Fade.”
Faden grunted. “Stop acting like a bunch of pussies. I’ll be fine.”
Hunter carried a bag of their day’s loot into Roy’s office where the treasury was. He was surprised to find Roy already there with Jesse and Kyle.
Jesse, who was usually grinning, looked guarded. Hunter cut straight to the chase as he placed the loot in the centre of the table right before Roy. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll get to that,” Roy said, his mood indecipherable. “We need to talk about something first, Savage.”
Hunter stood still as Miles and Faden took a seat on the empty chairs around the room, each looking equally clueless.
“Take a seat,” Roy urged, motioning to the empty chair before the desk and next to Jesse.
“I’d rather stand,” Hunter replied tightly. He was already feeling fidgety, like something was up.
Roy didn’t push, and then he cut straight to the chase. “We have a bit of a problem. We received word from a contact within Abram’s circle regarding Leo Itani. Word is that they met, and they not only met, but they hit it off, too. Whatever that Itani boy was seeking to gain from that meeting, he got.”
Hunter’s spine straightened. “You want to know what the meeting involved.”
“We already have an idea,” Roy explained, frowning. “Abram operates a deeply guarded banking system. He is the Banker of the Underworld, or so they call him. We have been working closely with him for a number of years, moving our currency around, sometimes for deals, other times because we can’t launder every penny we get at the pace we’re getting it.”
Realization struck Hunter right then. “Leo’s moving money.”
“Has he secured himself a seat at the High Table?” Roy questioned.