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Her
The sound of a car approaches in the front yard. I close my eyes, not wanting to leave the warmth of Hunter’s arms.
“Decker is here,” he whispers into my hair.
I nod.
Once I step back, I know I have to focus. There will be no time for fluttering hearts and craving attention. I have to take control. But I loathe to move from his arms when I know this could be one of the last times I’ll be here.
“I think you’ll change your mind about us once this is all over,” he whispers.
He still doesn’t get it. This isn’t about our attraction. If it was, I’d never leave his bed.
“I’m not going to change my mind.” I can’t. Not if I have any hope for a mentally stable future.
I suck in a breath, fill my lungs, and retreat from his embrace. I don’t look at him. I turn to the glass and watch Decker approach with food bags and a tray of takeout coffee.
Hunter opens the door, lets him inside, then leads the way to the dining table.
“There are croissants, English muffins, and donuts, depending on your mood.” Decker dumps the feast on the thick polished wood and pulls out a chair.
I take a seat across from him, while Hunter sits at the head of the table. Both of them focus on spreading the food and handing out coffee. Neither of them looks at me, as if fearing even a glance will bring up the topic we need to discuss.
Well, it’s too late for avoidance.
“Tell me what you know about Jacob.” I unwrap my croissant and take a large bite, the taste inspiring a hearty groan.
Hunter flicks me a casual glance, devoid of the feelings from our private moment. “He goes by the name Vaughn.”
“Zack,” Decker adds. “He’s been working with Torian for years.”
“Almost as long as I have.” Hunter takes a sip of coffee, watching me over the rim of the cup.
“You know him?”
He nods. “We’re not buddies, but yeah, I know him.”
My appetite threatens to flee. “And you’re still willing to help me take him down?”
“Yep.” He takes another lazy sip of caffeine.
There’s no concern. No building apprehension. Does he even understand my plans?
“You do realize I want him dead, right?” I glance at them both, expecting to see a glimmer of shock or foreboding. I find neither.
“I know.” He places the coffee cup down and unwraps an English muffin. “It shouldn’t be hard.”
“Why is that?” I place my croissant on the paper wrapping, giving him my full attention.
“We’re going to get someone else to do it.”
“No.” I scowl. “I don’t want anyone else. I’ve waited ten yea—”
“Sending someone to meet their maker isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You’re not a murderer, princess.”
I straighten my shoulders and want to snarl at how his gaze dips to my now thrusted breasts. “Let me worry about that.”
“I can’t. I won’t.” His attention returns to mine without remorse. “Do you really think you can look him in the eye and follow through with killing him?”
“Yes,” I grate.
“And do you think you can spend the rest of your life seeing that face every time you close your eyes? Do you think you can live with his ghost haunting you? Always looking over your shoulder to see if the cops are following?”
“I handled you following me, didn’t I?”
“That’s nothing in comparison.” His lip curls, but it isn’t nice. It’s cruel and derisive. “Have you forgotten what it felt like when you thought you killed Dan? Do you remember the nausea? Do you remember how you hid in your apartment for days?”
I remember.
But Dan was different. He didn’t murder four people in cold blood. He didn’t murder anyone. In comparison, Jacob turned my family to ash without remorse.
He didn’t deserve this new life as Zack Vaughn. He didn’t deserve a life at all.
“I. Can. Handle. It.” I enunciate the words with vehemence.
I want the other Hunter back. The caring, pleasing one, not the harsh criminal who now sits in his place.
“And what if I don’t want you to? What if I can’t handle you handling it?”
The thick silence that follows his response is louder than our argument. Static rushes in my ears. My pulse pounds in my throat. I don’t want this to be hard on him, but neither can I let him distract me from what I’ve strived for.
“Sarah…” Decker places his croissant down. “Let Torian do it for you. That way you’re still responsible, but not held accountable, and he will fuck Vaughn up better than you ever could.”
I drag my attention to him and frown. “Torian? Why would he kill Jacob for me?”
“Because that’s exactly what he does to anyone who crosses him.”
“I don’t understand.” I glance between them, back and forth, trying to work out the puzzle.
“You’re going to tell him that Dan gave you the name of the informant.”
I gasp at the simplicity of their scheme. “I’m going to tell him it was Jacob?”
“Vaughn,” Decker corrects. “You need to make sure you get the name right.”
I nod, my lips curling in an excited leer. “That sounds…” I want to say easy, but this is a murderous plot. Surely it can’t be that simple. “Are you certain it will work?”
“No, not at all.” Hunter pins me with a stern scowl. “Convincing Torian will be a bitch now that I’ve already promised him you know nothing. He won’t appreciate me going back on my word. He’ll be skeptical from the get go.”
“Which means it’s best if the news comes from you,” Decker adds. “We’ll take you to see him or—”
“We’ll fucking call him first,” Hunter growls. “And pray to God that’s enough. I don’t want you there with him.”
My throat dries at the unwavering concern in his eyes.
“But all this will put you in a dangerous position, too, right?” I ask. “It makes your original promise a lie.”
“Don’t worry about me. You’re the one we’re concerned about.”
“Concentrate on getting your story straight.” Decker balls his trash and throws it at the open paper bag in the middle of the table. “We need to go over the details again and again and again until it’s memorized. It will take days to get this right.”
“That doesn’t work for me.” The sooner this is all over, the sooner I can remove the shackles of Jacob’s strangling hold. I won’t wait a minute longer than necessary to be free from him. “I don’t need to practice. Not when the truth is so close to what happened with Dan in the first place. The story will be simple and without complication. He can either take it or leave it.”
“And if he leaves it?” Hunter asks.
“Then I deal with Jacob the old-fashioned way.”
“You mean the way that gets you killed?” He scoffs, smug and superior. “I should just do this on my own.”
“Don’t you dare take this from me,” I snap. “He’s not yours to kill.”
I can’t believe we’re bickering about murder. We’re fighting over who gets to end someone’s life. If my high school self could see me now, she would literally pee her pants.
“She’s right.” Decker raises his voice. “We already discussed this. If Torian found out you smoked one of his dealers, your life wouldn’t be worth living.”
“And besides,” I add, “you act as though I’m new to this, but I’m not. Dan wasn't the first guy I fucked with. I've done this before. Many times.” I grab the edge of the table in both hands to hold back my frustration. “Do you remember the priest whose child-molesting case was dropped? Do you also remember that same priest was admitted to hospital with self-inflicted cuts to his genitals?”
“Oh, boy,” Decker mumbles.
“They weren’t self-inflicted,” I clarify. “And the investment banker who signed all of his assets over to the ex-wife he physically abused? Do you think he did that out of the goodness of his heart? Or the school teacher who secretly filmed high school girls in the shower? Did you ever wonder why he made the sudden decision to join a monastery?” I stab a finger at my chest. “I did all that. And much more.”