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Keira
I hide out in the main bedroom, slumped on the mattress. I’m not in here because I’m intimidated by Sarah.
It’s the opposite.
I’m fearful of what I’ll do to her if she turns her accusatory face my way again.
Days ago, she was my friend. Now she dares to glare at me with disgust, as if I instigated my father’s entire operation.
Her goddamn righteousness boils my blood.
She’s no angel. I’m well aware of the things she does. How she works side-by-side with Hunter as a loan shark, or an enforcer, or whatever else my brother requires.
And yet I’m the heinous one? Go figure.
A tap, tap, tap sounds to my right. I panic at the intrusion and glance at the window, finding Hunter’s menacing face staring back at me from outside.
I don’t move. For a moment, I’m too scared to even think.
Although Sarah is being a bitch, Hunter is a cold-blooded killer, and right now I’d prefer her hatred to his possible intent.
“Open the fucking window,” he mutters.
I remain cemented in place, not willing to sign my own death certificate.
His glare turns lethal. “Now. We need to talk.”
The rap sheet of crimes he’s committed for my family pokes at me from the back of my mind. The assault. The murder. He’s killed people for far less than what my father has done. For all I know, he’s turned his back on us and claimed Sarah’s high moral code.
“Keira.” His tone softens despite the harsh expression, his voice barely heard through the glass barrier between us. “We don’t have much time.”
I swallow over and over, trying to bottle my fear as my palms begin to sweat.
My brother trusts this man with his life. I should be able to trust him to hold a non-violent conversation. Shouldn’t I?
I inch to my feet and take cautious steps across the room. My hands tremble as I reach for the window.
He stares me down. Stares so emotionless and heartlessly that I’m sure I’m making a huge mistake. Yet I refuse to let fear rule me as I flick the lock.
There’s no pause for contemplation. In seconds, he has the screen unhitched, the pane raised, and is preparing to climb in.
“You couldn’t use the front door?”
“I’m not ready to speak to that asshole yet.” He winces as he hauls himself into the room, alluding to more injuries than the stark bruising across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes.
I retreat as he stands, his bulky frame dwarfing me. I aim my path toward the door, backtracking closer and closer to escape while I wait for him to attempt to crush my bones to make his bread.
“I fucking hate this,” he murmurs.
“I didn’t know.” My admission is blurted like a frightened little bitch.
He jerks his head in a barely-there acknowledgement. He doesn’t believe me. Or doesn’t care.
“When did you figure out Decker was a snitch?”
“I didn’t know about that either.” I take another backward step and collide with the side of the bed frame, the corner of the thick wood stabbing into my thigh. “Shit.”
Hunter’s brows pinch, his face changing into a mask of incredulity. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.” The words are a command. Almost a threat.
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“Sit,” he grates. “Your apprehension is making me fucking uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?” I’ve known this man a long time. I even thought I’d grown to trust him despite my aversion to the weakness. And over all the years watching him, I’ve never seen him uncomfortable.
In a rage, yes.
Menacingly cocky, definitely.
But never uncomfortable.
“Maybe angry is a better word,” he snarls. “You’re acting like I’m a threat, and it’s seriously pissing me off. You should know better.”
“I should know better?” I work the statement around in my head, denying its vehemence. “I’ve just found out my father is the devil. That the man who raised me is my worst nightmare. I’ve known nothing my entire life, Hunter, so forgive me if I question your motives.”
He winces, the silent seconds ticking by before he murmurs, “Sorry.”
The apology hits deep.
He doesn’t have to repeat his command to sit because my legs collapse beneath me and I slump to the bed in a heap of emotional baggage.
“Tell me about Decker.” He remains in place, the pinch of his brows tight. “How did you find out?”
“He blew his own cover once we got here. He just blurted it out.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.” My response comes instantly. But it’s a lie. I’m beyond hurt by Sebastian. He didn’t show one sign of relief when he found out Cole is still in the dark. He found out he hadn’t been outed as the informant and not once did he celebrate us having more time together.
He’s resigned to leaving.
Nothing I do will change his mind.
“You’re lying.” His eyes narrow. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head and lower my gaze, my cheeks turning to flame.
“Bullshit,” he snaps. “Tell me what he did.”
I keep my mouth shut, too embarrassed to admit the truth.
“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He starts for the door.
“No. Wait.” I shove to my feet and rush to block his path with a shaking body and a splayed hand. “I promise he didn’t hurt me.”
“Then what are you hiding?”
My fingers are insignificant against the muscles of his chest, the rampant beat of his heart like a hammer beneath my palm.
“I’m not hiding anything.” I cringe when his gaze intensifies. “What you see is shame. I fell for him. I fell really hard, Hunter. And the more minutes that pass, the further I fall. I can’t seem to stop.”
His lip curls. I’m not sure whether it’s in frustration or incredulity.
“I think we both know he’s never been one of us,” I admit. “He’s always been an outsider. The good, while we’re the bad. And there’s nothing I can do to change that.”
“He’s no saint. Don’t go making him into something he’s not.”
“He is to me.” I drop back to the mattress. “I’ve never wanted to change who I am more than I do right now.”
“Yeah?” He sobers and comes to sit beside me. “I get it. I feel the same way about Sarah.”
“Maybe you should listen to your own advice,” I mutter. “She’s no saint either.”
“She’s still far better than I deserve.”
I disagree. I’ve always known she was perfectly matched for this man. Now her callousness makes it even more apparent. What that woman needs is a dose of her own medicine.
The worst part is that she’s currently out there, alone with Sebastian, probably turning him against me.
“What did she say to you on the porch?” he asks.
I bark out a derisive laugh. “Not much. She just told me, in a not-so-subtle way, that she thinks I’m involved.”
“Ignore her. She’s lashing out. That’s all. She’s made herself into this badass defender of the weak and i
“She’s not the only one who feels that way.”
“I know.” He shoves a hand through his hair, his frustration so palpable I can feel it throb inside my chest. “This whole situation is fucked up.”
“Uh huh.” I lean into him, needing to ease his burden and rest my shoulder against his. “Never in a million years would I have thought my father was capable of this.”
“What about Cole?” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me into his side. “Do you think he’s involved?”
My stomach twists in knots, inspiring a mass production of bile. “I’ve sworn black and blue he has nothing to do with this… But if you’re unsure, then maybe I should be, too.”