Hunting Her Box Set

He’s here. Right here. With his styled hair, expensive suit, and playboy looks that I itch to burn from his flesh.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Hunter moves to my right, unsuccessfully trying to block my view of the monster from my nightmares. But I can still see him, sense him, feel him. The hollow taint of what he’s done wraps around me, tightening. Strangling.

“Pretend he’s not here,” Decker whispers in my ear. “Focus.”

Focus. It’s the one thing I can’t do right now.

“Like I said, I need to authenticate the information, and what better way to do it than by asking the accused to come to Portland to stand trial?” Torian continues to steeple his fingers, his eyes sparkling with devious delight. “By the sound of it, we already have a flaw in your story, Steph… Or is it Sarah?”

“There’s no flaw,” Hunter snarls.

“What am I accused of?” Jacob asks.

“Breathe,” Decker whispers in my ear. “Don’t panic.”

They all speak over one another, the voices garbled. I can’t shake it off. I can’t find the focus I need. Grief overwhelms me.

I’m failing. I’m failing. I’m failing.

“She claims Dan told her you are the informant who’s been ratting to the police.”

I swallow and find my voice. “It’s not a claim.”

“Like hell,” Jacob snarls. “This bitch is setting me up because I killed her family.”

“Is that true?” Torian’s joker mask slips away under his deepening frown.

“You don’t need to take my word for it.” Jacob steps forward, pulling a cell from the inside pocket of his business suit jacket. “Look it up online. There are a million and one articles about what I did.”

I’m fucked. No question.

Hunter grasps my hand, as if knowing I’m as good as dead. But I can’t go down like this. I refuse to let Jacob walk out of here. No matter what it takes. No matter what the price. I have to turn this around.

I need to bend and adapt.

I drop Hunter’s hand, gaining my independence, and paste on a smirk. “It’s true. He did kill my family. But I haven’t seen this man in ten years. I didn’t know he was still alive or that he changed his name. To me, this is fate.”

Karma.

The room erupts in vocal conflict. Jacob curses. Hunter defends me. Decker keeps whispering u

“Quiet,” Torian shouts.

Hunter inches in front of me and widens his stance, parting his feet to act as a body shield. He knows what’s going to happen. He senses it, and it isn’t good.

Torian doesn’t believe me. He knows I’m lying.

Jacob begins to chuckle, the sound of victory sinking under my skin like acid.

I rest my forehead on Hunter’s shoulder blade and whisper a barely audible apology. I’m so sorry. So deeply, truly sorry as I place my hand on the low of his back, on the gun that always lies in wait.

He stiffens under my touch, fully aware of what’s ru

He’s certain he knows what I’m about to do. He knows the increased danger I will put us all in. He knows. And still, he doesn’t try to stop me. He lets me know it’s perfectly fine to risk his life. That he’s here for me. Always willing to fight for me.

“I’m sorry, Torian,” I say louder. “I don’t expect you to understand.” I reach under Hunter’s jacket, remove the gun from his waistband and shove him forward, out of the way.

“Stop,” Torian shouts.

But it’s too late. I raise the barrel before anyone has time to reach for a weapon, Jacob’s eyes widening in realization.

“For my family,” I whisper, and pull the trigger.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And the last, for baby Thomas.

The bullets pepper his chest, jolting him with each impact. I breathe in his horror, delighting in his shock. I barely register Hunter stepping back into me, arms wide, returning to his role as human shield, while Decker smothers my back.

I’m sandwiched but all I can see is Jacob as he stumbles backward, collapsing to the floor, his hands clutching his chest in vain as blood soaks his clothes.

I hear shouts. Threats. My name. I hear instructions, but the words don’t penetrate. The only thing seeping deep into my chest is victory. Relief. The bitter-sweet euphoria of vengeance.

Sarah, pay attention.

It’s my father’s voice, his guidance snapping me back to the present, to the room full of drawn guns.

Decker’s is trained on Carlos. Carlos’s on me. Torian’s on Hunter. Mine on the wall, at the space where a murderer once stood.

“Her actions are justified,” Hunter says in a rush. “He killed her family. You would’ve done the same.”

Screams carry from down the hall. The rough scrape of chairs and scampering feet.

“Her justification means nothing when she brought this feud into my family’s restaurant. She killed one of my men.” Torian looms over his desk, the barrel of his gun aimed at Hunter’s chest. “Step aside.”

“Not going to happen.”

“Do it.” I push at Hunter’s back. “Please.”

He doesn’t budge.

I could probably get another shot off and take Carlos down with me, but I wouldn’t have a chance with Torian. He would kill my determined protector before Carlos hit the ground.

“Move, Hunter,” I plead.

If at all possible, he grows an inch taller with his dominant stance. He’s not going to let me take the fall.

“Move.” I shove at him with my free hand, only to have Decker’s arm grab my wrist, plastering it to my side as he holds me in place.

“The police will be here any minute, Hunt. What’s your next move?” Torian blurts. “How are you going to play this?”

“I take responsibility. I owe you. I’ll do whatever you want. Be whatever you want. I’ll stop being a contractor and instead become one of your bitch boys, like you’ve always wanted. We can work out the details at a later date.”

“No.” I plead. “This was my fault.”

“Let him sort this out,” Decker whispers in my ear. “He’s got it under control.”

“No.” I elbow him in the ribs, breaking free of his grasp. I stalk around Hunter, only to be engulfed in his arms and drawn into his body

“Don’t move,” Torian demands, his barrel trained on my chest.

“She’s mine,” Hunter snarls, taking the gun from my hand. “My responsibility. My debt. You shoot her, and you won’t live to take another breath.”

Torian’s eyes narrow. “Do you really want to threaten me?”

“No. No. No.” I scramble to turn to face Hunter. “Don’t do this.”

A shot blasts the air, and his hands fall. His eyes widen. His lips part. I frantically search his face for answers, my mind screaming, until I hear a thud behind him.

Carlos is on the floor, blood seeping from a perfectly circular hole in his forehead.

“You should’ve done that weeks ago,” Torian mutters, lobbing his gun at Hunter. “Put it in Vaughn’s hand. As far as you’re all concerned, they killed each other.”

I stand rooted in place as Hunter wipes the gun of fingerprints, then places it in Jacob’s hand. He does the same with his weapon, placing it with Carlos.

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

“It’s over.” Decker puts his hands on my shoulders. “He’s got it worked out.”

“He’s got what worked out?”

The wail of sirens increases. All I can hear is noise, the panic and chaos increasing.

“She needs to get out of here.” Torian strides around the desk. “She’ll come with me. You two can stay.”

Hunter nods.