Thirteen
Hunter
He showered, still troubled, still internally torn to shreds, and like before, the same question spilled from his lips, vulnerability splayed open. “Can I fuck you, Skye?”
And she consented.
She opened herself to him, and he took her hard and fast, dominating her like he was trying to dominate the filth he still felt coating his skin. It was inside him, everywhere, feasting on his sanity, forcing him to relive the horrifying moments he showed up to that godforsaken house with Miles.
Just getting some intel,Miles had assured him.
The man behind that closed door would feed them vital information. Drop off coordinates and supply runs. It would be in and out. Just a quick rendezvous before going back home to Skye.
Instead, Hunter had walked into a dilapidated drug house filled with unconscious addicts and a smiling, monstrous cunt. As the cunt fed Miles the information, Hunter heard a sound down the hallway. So quiet, he almost missed it.
What propelled him to follow it, he didn’t know. Call it instinct. Call it divine fucking intervention. It didn’t even matter. He walked to the only closed door down the hall and opened it.
What he saw made the Savage erupt with bloodthirsty violence. Hunter had never taken satisfaction in hurting a human being before then. He spun around, stormed back to him and tore the man apart, uncaring of Miles' shrieks for him to stop. He removed his eyes, then his balls, and then he worked on the man’s throat, opening it up with his bare fucking hands. He murdered the cunt in minutes, taking great satisfaction in the way he choked for air.
Good.
Let the cunt burn in hell.
Coated in blood, he picked up the little girl from the bedroom and carried her out of the house. He didn’t care of the consequences. Didn’t care what Miles said, or what Roy might do when he found out he had killed one of their contacts.
Hunter waited in the darkness with the broken girl for over an hour. She was so light, so quiet in his arms, her face buried in his chest like it didn’t concern her he was covered in so much blood.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said to her softly, eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. “Nothing will hurt anymore. I promise.”
And when Leo showed up with Shane, he felt—for the first time that day away from Skye—like he was surrounded by love. Leo didn’t utter a single word as they stared at each other, communicating their unspoken thoughts.
Leo, the hero, the fixer, the goodness that shined between the two of them.
And it startled Hunter just how badly he suddenly needed him.
Leo took the girl away to a safe place, and now, with Skye beneath Hunter and his cock spearing into her as she took every punishing thrust, that horrible itch beneath his skin eased.
*
Hunter wasn’t sure what was worse in the eyes of the club: killing the monster cunt or calling for Leo to aid him.
Either way, Roy was pissed beyond belief, Miles was ignoring him, and shit was tense for a few days. He was certain he would face serious discipline for his actions.
And Hunter?
He didn’t give a single fuck.
He ate and slept without a concern on his mind, waiting patiently for Roy to call him into the office and discuss the night he murdered their cartel contact and buried some bodies.
Ironically, the messy kill had left Hunter feeling quite serene.
Nobody approached.
News of what he had done flowed through the clubhouse, the whispers turned to frightened glimpses.
Soon, the whispers would become exaggerated gossip as bar goers opened their mouths and the town was lit up with fear and dismay.
It wasn’t just the one man he had killed. No, soon it would be an entire house he had slayed. Other times, he burned the house down with them alive inside it.