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Decker
“Get in the Porsche,” Hunter demands as he strides for the passenger door. “You’re driving.”
“Is that really necessary? Why the fuck can’t we just stay here?”
He doesn’t answer, just keeps pounding out the steps around the hood. He’s more volatile than I anticipated, which isn’t good.
I thought he’d be edgy from the news—an upcoming power struggle isn’t something anyone wants to be involved in—but we can make a plan. We can get in front of this before it blows in our faces. “Do you have a destination in mind?”
“I’ll give you directions.”
I yank open my door, and we both slide inside.
“Head out of town.” Hunter clasps his belt, and I start the ignition. “Toward Portland.”
I nod and pull from the curb, the small town being left behind in the rear-view as we steamroll closer toward apprehension. “Are you going to start talking?”
“When we pull over. I don’t trust this car isn’t bugged.”
I hold tight to the steering wheel and wonder if he’s right. Not only could the authorities be listening, but it’s a possibility Torian could’ve placed a recording device in his own car.
All those phone calls via Bluetooth, or any conversation he’s held behind the wheel could be kept and used to his advantage…along with all those I’ve had with Keira.
Shit.
“You need to start talking.” I demand. “I know something’s wr—”
“Here.” He focuses out his window, tapping his finger against the glass. “Pull over.”
“You sure?” He’s pointing toward a dilapidated barn. The structure is barely holding its own, the wooden wall planks filled with dark, rotted cracks exposing the black inside. One gust of wind and the fucker is going to fall.
“Yes. Pull into the drive and park at the gate. We can walk the rest of the way.”
“You want to go inside?”
He scowls at me. “What’s with you questioning me this morning? You’re getting on my nerves.”
“Feeling’s mutual.” I pull into the dirt drive and cut the engine.
Being at each other’s throats isn’t a great way to face this storm. We have to be a team. Focused and reliable. I need to be on his good side if there’s any hope he’ll help me convince Keira to run from this mess.
“Get moving. I don’t want to keep the girls waiting.” Hunter is out and striding for the fence before I can release my belt.
He doesn’t want to keep them waiting?
I didn’t want to leave them in the first fucking place.
Something is seriously eating Hunter’s ass right now and it’s not an A-grade hooker.
I rush from the car, slamming the door behind me. “Hey.” I jog to catch up. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me.” He opens the gate, holding it wide until I walk through. “This morning has been a fucking disaster.”
“Because Luther went to meet his maker?” I continue along the drive, rocks and dirt crunching under my shoes.
“Among other things, but we’ll get to the rest later.” He lags half a step behind, his heavy frame taking up the corner of my eye. “First, I want to know what Keira told you.”
“It’s like I said on the phone—Her dad is counting worms, and they’re keeping it quiet while they prepare for the approaching shit storm.”
“I still don’t understand why she would tell you when nobody else has been told. Not even me.”
“Is that what this is about?” I huff out a chuckle. “You’re pissed because your best buddy, Torian, didn’t tell you first?”
“Like I’d give a fuck about that. I just want answers. I want to know why she would blab to you.”
I glance over my shoulder and waggle my brows at his fierce expression. I wouldn’t have guessed it possible, but his face becomes stonier. Those eyes harden to disapproving slits. His lips flatten into a straight line.
“So, you did fuck her,” he grates.
“That’s such a crass term for the magic we shared.”
“It must’ve been some monumental fuck to have her spilling her family secrets.”
I shrug. “What can I say? My moves bring out the trust in people.”
“Torians don’t trust,” he snarls. “You know that.” He slows his pace, falling further behind as we reach the barn. “Who else have you told?”
“Nobody.” I grab the splintered door in both hands and have to lift to get it to budge. “I called you—”
A heavy weight slams into my back, buckling my knees and shoving me into the rotted wood.
“What the—” My gun is yanked from my pants as I right myself, the barrel jabbing into my ribs.
“Get inside,” Hunt mutters. “Move.”
I freeze, the world stopping around me as I relive every move I’ve made in the last forty-eight hours in an attempt to pinpoint my failure. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you—”
Pain explodes through the back of my skull, the impact coming from his knuckles or maybe the butt of the gun.
“Open the fucking door. We’re not doing this out here.”
“And what is this, exactly?” I murmur. “Because I’m fucking clueless.”
Cold metal presses to the top of my spine. “Inside. Now.”
I scramble to figure out what’s going on. What he knows. How I’ve failed. “You’re being a dick, Hunt. Cut the shit and tell me what’s got your panties in a twist.”
“Don’t try my patience, motherfucker.”
Fuck.
I have no clue what’s going on. No fucking idea what has turned my friend against me. I lift the door, adrenaline coursing through me.
My head throbs as I shove inside, dust billowing at my feet. I inch into the darkened interior, the nudges from Hunt prodding me forward.
Splinters of light pierce through the broken walls. Cobwebs blanket the beams along the ceiling. This place is empty, apart from the dread filling the space to capacity.
It’s certainly not the nicest place to die.
I guess it’s not the worst, either.
“Who do you work for?” He shoves me forward with a heavy hand between my shoulder blades.
I stumble, gaining enough space to turn and face him. “You’re paranoid.” I scowl at him. At my friend. My only fucking friend.
“And you’re a fucking traitor.” He aims the weapon at my chest, his arm strong, his resignation even stronger. I can see it in his eyes. He’s capable of pulling the trigger. He’s considering killing me.
“What have I told you about skipping your meds?” I raise my hands in surrender. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today—”
“Who do you work for?” he demands. “Is it the fucking DEA?”
“I work for you. I’ve always worked for you.”
His eyes flare. His jaw ticks.
He knows. He fucking knows.
How?
“Tell me what’s going on.” I step closer. “Whatever it is, you’ve got the wrong impression.”
“Do I?” He raises a brow. “In the early hours of this morning, one of Torian’s cop friends calls to tell him an informant has started whispering about Luther’s death. Not long after, you give me the same information.”
Fucking Anissa.
That bitch exposed me.
“And you’re blaming me for the leak?” I scoff and lower my hands. “Fuck, man, you said it yourself, I called after the cop. Who knows who found out before I did. Keira has probably told all her friends. And then there’s Layla. Or even Cole. It’s obviously not a well kept secret.”
“It’s not a secret, you piece of shit. It’s a lie.”
A lie?
A fucking lie.
I school my expression, facing the news head-on as hell rains down on me.
“He isn’t dead, you dumb fuck.” He lunges for me, one hand grabbing my throat while the other keeps me in place with the threat of a bullet. “From what I can piece together, it was a bullshit story to flush out a rat.” He tightens his grip, restricting my breath. “Keira set you up. She tested you. She fucking played you.”