Lulu

My mother ran her frail hand over Josh’s hair, unable to contain her joy at having another visit with her grandson. I’d brought him to meet her two days ago. At first, she’d been shocked, but I couldn’t think of a reason to keep him away, not now. Pierce already knew about him and so did Hunter. There was no point denying them the chance to spend time with each other.

When she asked who his father was, Hunter, who had been standing silently in the corner of the room watching us, the way he always watched us, intense and alert, had piped up in that deep, rough voice, “Josh is mine.” That’s all he said, all he had to say.

Mom accepted it.

We visited the day before as well. We still didn’t have any leads on Pierce, but Hunter was sure he was still in the city. I’d been racking my brain for where he could be. Pierce had taken me to a lot of places, but over the years they’d become one big blur. A nightmare I’d worked hard to forget. Several stuck out, though, but some I’d have to see to recognize.

It was frustrating. I wanted to help. I wanted Pierce locked up. I wanted Josh safe.

But this afternoon, I didn’t want to think about any of that, because for the first time since I’d seen her, my mother had color in her cheeks. Her eyes, that had been a dull gray instead of her usual bright blue, were sparkling like sapphires. And even though I knew the prognosis, I couldn’t stop the hope stirring inside me. Hope was stupid and a waste of energy. Miracles didn’t happen, despite what people said. But if the light shining from her today meant that I got a few more with her, I’d take them, and I’d treasure every second.

We’d been at the hospital for several hours. Though she looked bright and happy, I could see the fatigue creeping in. Josh had been chatting animatedly most of the time we’d been here, but I could see my son was getting tired as well. He’d been rubbing his eyes for the last hour. I was reluctant to leave. But he’d had enough and was ready for dinner and bed. And if I didn’t get him home soon, a meltdown of epic proportions wouldn’t be far away.

I stood, leaned in, and kissed my mother’s soft cheek. She turned to me. “Are you going?

“Yeah, Mom. We better let you get some rest.”

Her hand came to my wrist, and she held on, making my heart squeeze painfully. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.” I kissed her again then lifted Josh into my arms.

“I’d love that.”

I helped her settle back, making sure her pillows were where she wanted them, lifted her water to her mouth so she could take a sip through the straw, then tucked the blankets around her. Her eyes grew heavy instantly. “Sleep well, Mom.”

She smiled again and we left, closing the door behind us.

Hunter wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck and pulled me into his side as we walked down the hall. He didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. He was there for me, for Josh, and he managed to show us every day that we meant something to him. He was making it extremely hard to think about leaving. I was starting to rely on him, not only for protection, but support, comfort.

I hitched Josh higher on my hip. He was getting heavy and restless, and started wriggling, wanting to get down. Hunter reached for him without missing a beat. My son went to him without complaint, resting his head on that beautifully inked, broad shoulder.

Hunter draped his arm around mine and pulled me back into his side. I wrapped my arm around his waist, gripping his T-shirt.

Like we were a real couple again, like we were a family.

Our hips brushed as we walked, and I shivered. I couldn’t help it. I was starved for him, for every scrap of affection, every touch. It didn’t matter how much he gave me. I couldn’t get enough of him. When he touched me, it felt like I came out of myself, and I could think of nothing but him. I needed that, so much.

We hadn’t had sex, not since the time in the bathroom at the agency. I knew he was trying to ease me back into this relationship, was worried about my state of mind after opening up about the abuse and rape, after what Pierce had tried to do again. But I didn’t want that, I didn’t want time to process, or come to terms, or find some other way to move forward. I wanted to keep it locked away, deep, deep down inside, and forget all about it. I didn’t want to unpack that crap and throw it all over the place. I didn’t want to deal with the mess that was my life.

Why would I want to do that? I couldn’t see the point.

Besides, our time together had an end date. I didn’t want to waste what little we did have left. I wanted to make the most of every damn minute.

He kept his arm around me the whole way, only letting me go when we got to his car so he could unlock it.

I reached for Josh to put him in his booster seat, but Hunter ignored my outstretched arms, opened the backseat, and put him in. I headed to the passenger side and opened up. I was about to get in when my phone rang.

I checked the screen. Ruby.

I frowned and answered as Hunter moved around behind me.

“I’m bringing pizza and a movie over for girl’s night tonight,” she said. “Any preference on the flick? Action or romance?”

“Um . . .”

“I’ll get wine too.”

“O-kay . . .”

“So the movie?”

“Romance?”

“Good choice. See you a little later.” The phone disconnected and I stared down at it.

“Who was that?” Hunter asked.

“Ruby. Apparently we’re having a girl’s night tonight.”

Hunter smirked. “Jesus.”

“What?”

He just shook his head, that smirk front and center.

I shoved my phone in my back pocket and started to get in. That’s when the rear window of the car beside us exploded. I screamed and covered my head.

Hunter shoved me toward the front seat. “Get in!”

Something hit my right arm as I dove for cover, but I barely noticed. All my focus centered on getting in the car, getting to Josh.

He was screaming in the back. I needed to make sure my baby was okay. There were shots being fired all around us, and I scrambled into the back seat and threw myself over my son.

Hunter crouched low, wrenched open the driver’s door and jumped in, yelling into his phone.

“The glass is bulletproof, but keep your fucking head down, Lulu. And put your goddamn seatbelt on.”

Then Hunter revved the engine, backed up, and roared out of the hospital parking lot. I quickly buckled up and held on as he tore out onto the street. He cursed as he shifted through the gears, tires squealing around corner after corner.

Josh was screaming. I did my best to calm him, but he was terrified, and only after we’d been driving a while and Hunter had slowed down did he start to settle, his screams turning to shuddery, hiccupy little gasps. I kissed his chubby cheek and held his hand, all I could do with him strapped into his booster.

Hunter kept driving, keeping quiet, but the energy coming off him was frightening. I kept my mouth shut, knowing he’d tell me what was going on when he could. He was checking the rear-view mirror, scanning the street around us constantly. After a few more minutes, he grabbed his phone and punched in a number. “We’re clear.”

He was quiet a moment. When he spoke again his voice was steel, edged with barely-contained violence. “Someone just shot at us, at my woman, again, with my kid in the fucking car.” I was in the back, but I could still see his jaw getting hard, the way he gripped the steering wheel. “We’ll be there in ten. The cops can come to us. I want them home where I can keep them safe.”

Then he disconnected.

“It was Pierce, wasn’t it?” I whispered, fear reaching up and taking me by the throat.

Those flying bullets weren’t for me. My stepfather wanted Hunter dead. He wanted me and the information he thought I had. His little set-up with Bret hadn’t worked. I’d gotten away. Pierce wouldn’t be happy about that. And now the cops were after him as well. Staying here in New York was stupid, even if he believed the painting was his ticket to freedom. That meant he wasn’t only desperate, he was out of his damn mind. Was capable of anything. He was convinced I had the painting, or knew where it was, and he wouldn’t stop until he had me again. So, yeah, Hunter had been his target. Shooting me didn’t make sense.

“Don’t know. But I’m gonna find out.” Some of the steel left his voice when he spoke to me, but his body was still rock hard, tension rolling of him.

Josh popped his thumb in his mouth, and I kissed him again. “It wasn’t me he was trying to hit, was it?” If Hunter was out of the way, I was a much easier target.

“I’ll take care of this, Lulu. I promise you.”

A wave of nausea hit me. Two thoughts coming at me at once. Hunter could take care of this, or he could die trying. He would put himself in danger to protect us. I loathed that with everything in me. So much so I could actually feel my blood pressure spike, sending black spots dancing across my vision, making my limbs weak.

The second thought sent panic, terror through me so hard and fast, I struggled to breathe. “What if they’d hit Josh?” I shoved down the thought. It was unthinkable, unbearable. “What if they come after us again?” The adrenaline that had been thrumming through me burnt away with the rush of intense fear, and that’s when I felt something warm trickle down my arm. That’s when I felt the pain.

I looked down and gasped. Blood covered my right arm, soaking through my shirt, dripping onto the seat.

“Lulu?” Hunter glanced at me in the rear view mirror.

I grabbed a T-shirt lying beside me on the floor and pressed it to my arm. “I think . . . I think I’ve been hit.”

“What?”

“I’m bleeding.”

The car wrenched to the side and Hunter angled his body, reaching through the seats and pulled the shirt away to get a look. I winced.

He cursed several times. “It’s a graze. Thank fuck. Keep pressure on it, baby. I’ll get someone up to my apartment to stitch you up. I’m not taking you back out in the open.”

Josh pulled his thumb from his mouth. “Fuck,” he parroted.

Wonderful.

“Shit,” Hunter growled.

“Shit,” Josh mimicked, lips curled up at the sides, obviously pleased with himself.

Hunter stared at Josh for a couple beats, then gave up, turned back in his seat, keyed in a text, and we were driving again.

Jude, Zeke, and Van were there when we arrived. They were all carrying guns and not bothering to conceal them as they rushed us inside Hunter’s apartment building. Zeke left again as soon as we were secured—to take position across the street, he said.

Neco arrived with an older man a short time later, a man with salt and pepper hair and an impatient, harried looking expression. The doctor Hunter mentioned. He gave me a shot to numb my wound, which was just a graze and not that bad, stitched me up, gave me some antibiotics, and left again.

I looked up at Van when the door shut. “You have your own doctor on call?”

“We pay him well, and he’s available when we need him,” he said from his position in front of the breakfast bar.

Hunter had a job that required a doctor on the payroll, a doctor who was on call? The guy hadn’t batted an eyelid at what was so obviously a bullet wound. This was something else to lock away and not think about until all this was over.

It was just another reason why Josh and I couldn’t stay. As if reading my mind, Van piped up again. “We don’t use him very often, Lulu, and we’re not the only ones that pay him to do his job and keep his mouth shut.”

People come to us when a situation is too dangerous for anyone else, and we . . . fix it for them.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Right. Good to know.” That was a complete lie. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t need to know. And by tomorrow, after I’d shored up my mental defenses, I would have pushed it way down, all of it, with everything else. When it was time to leave, I’d think about it then and only then.

Josh, my tough little cookie, had fallen asleep not long after we’d gotten back. He’d curled up on the couch beside me and drifted off. Hunter had carried him to bed when the good doctor arrived.

The door was opened again and the cops walked in, obviously here to take my statement. Jude walked over to greet them, filling them in. I realized they were the same cops that I spoke to in the hospital, after Pierce had finished with me. They seemed to know each other.

“Does Jude know those guys?”

Hunter was standing behind me, a steady, unwavering presence. Other than taking Josh to bed, he hadn’t moved. His hand came down on the back of my neck, fingers curling in. He kissed the top of my head. “Jude used to be a cop.”

“Oh.” I turned in my seat to look at him. “He was a cop? But you guys . . . you . . . you know . . .”

Neco chuckled from his spot across the room, leaning against the wall. “We do what we have to do to get a job done, and that sure as hell doesn’t usually include shooting shit up all over the city. You get me?”

Nope. Not really. “Right.”

That’s when the police joined us and the conversation about law breaking ended while they took everyone’s statements.

It was late when they finally left. I was exhausted, close to passing out.

Hunter shut the door behind Van, who was the last to leave, and walked back to me. He didn’t give me any warning, just slid his arms around me, one at my back, the other behind my knees, and lifted me off the couch.

He kissed my temple. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and suddenly remembered about the plans I’d made for tonight. “What about Ruby? She’ll think I blew her off.”

“Neco filled her in.”

“Oh . . . that’s good, I like her.”

“You do?”

“Mmmhmm. Maybe we could be friends?” I said against his T-shirt. I’d never really had friends, besides Bret, who’d turned out to be a traitorous bastard. I liked the idea of having one.

“Jesus,” Hunter said, and carried me from the living room.

Hunter

I was barely hanging on to my shit.

I’d just checked Josh for the hundredth time. He’d been out cold when I’d looked in a few minutes ago. His little body looked so damn tiny in that big bed. And even though I’d been able to see his chest rising and falling, I’d rested my hand lightly against him so I could feel it.

I’d been the target today; I knew that much. Lulu was right—Pierce wanted me out of the way. Instead, he’d accidently hit Lulu. Thank fuck it was only a graze, it could have been so much worse.

One thing I knew for sure—he wasn’t going to stop. It was a dumb move for Pierce to come after her now. His shit had been blown wide open, but then the guy was a sick fuck. The kind of man who would blackmail and rape his own stepdaughter, a kid he’d had under his care since she was twelve years old. The guy was unpredictable at best. As far as I was concerned, the fucker needed to be put down, and I wanted to be the one to do it.

I’d do anything to keep Lulu and Josh safe. Anything.

Lulu tucked herself in close, wrapped her arms around my neck, and I held her back, as tight as I could without hurting her any more than she already was. How much more could she take before she broke completely?

I carried her into my bedroom and sat her on the bed. She started to protest, but I slid my hand from the side of her throat into her hair and made her look at me. “Let me take care of you.”

I needed her to understand, needed her to let me do this.

“You don’t need to. I can take care of it.”

“Fuck.” I shook my head. “Let me do this for you.”

Lulu being Lulu, she got it. Eyes wide, she stared up at me and nodded. “Okay.”

Fuck. So fucking strong, so determined to take it all on alone. She trusted me with her body, to protect her, but she was guarding her heart. She’d locked it away and thrown away the fucking key.

Her shirt was torn from the bullet. The doc had cleaned around the wound, but dried blood covered the rest of her arm. “I’m gonna need to cut this off.” Lifting it over her head would just cause her more pain. I pulled my blade from my boot and flicked it open.

Cutting through the fabric carefully, I bunched it up and threw it in the trash by the bed. There was blood on her side as well, and the sight of it fired up the rage still hammering me.

I was so focused, trying to get myself back under control, I didn’t see her hands lifting to my face. But then she cupped my jaw, rubbed her thumb across my five-o’clock shadow, trying to comfort me. “I’m fine, Hunter.”

I hadn’t even realized I was clenching my teeth until she touched me. “You’re not, Lulu. You’re so far from fucking fine it’s not funny.” I grabbed her hand and held it in mine, even when she tried to pull away. She sat there, holding it together, like nothing had happened. So fucking closed off, so deep in denial. I snapped. “Someone shot at us. You or Josh could have been seriously injured . . . or worse.”

She flinched, but there was no chance of keeping this in, acting like everything was fucking fine. I released her hand and curled my fingers around either side of her neck, thumbs under her chin to make her look at me. “That’s not fine. You are hurting yourself, babe. You’re hurting yourself and I won’t let you, not anymore.” I hissed out a pained breath. “Let me in, Lulu.”

She reared back, but I held her in place.

“Let. Me. In.”

She shook her head. “You . . . you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I do.” I gentled my hold. “I spent time locked up for something I didn’t do. Lost three fucking years. I’m not okay with that, I’m not fine.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I gave her a gentle shake. “No, Lulu . . . fuck.” I held her agonized gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Shit, baby, you didn’t put me behind bars, Pierce did. He took from both of us. I’ve had to deal with that, learn to live with it, but what I didn’t do was bottle that shit up, do you understand?”

She nodded.

She wasn’t getting it; my words weren’t sinking in. She wouldn’t let them. The woman was giving me the right answers, the answers she knew I wanted to hear, but she was full of shit. “Babe, until you let that toxic shit out, I don’t get my Lulu back, and I want her back.” I rested my forehead against hers and willed her to let me in. “I want her back.”

Her lids quivered and the fucking shades slammed shut. She was gone. Locked down and buried under a mountain of pain. It was there in her eyes. She wasn’t letting me in. Not yet, maybe not ever. That thought nearly killed me. Releasing her before I started fucking begging, I went to grab a damp cloth.

She took off her bra and I cleaned her up, wiping the blood from her beautiful skin. Removing her jeans, I threw them in the hamper. I grabbed one of my button downs and slid it on, covering her tempting body, and folded back the sleeves.

“You wanna sleep here, or with Josh?”

She stared up at me, and I held my breath. I wanted her in my bed so damn bad, wanted her here every night where she belonged.

“I’ll sleep with Josh.”

I ignored the way her words pierced my chest, lifted her back into my arms, and carried her to the spare room. Pulling back the blankets, I put her in beside our son—because that’s what he was; no matter what happened, Josh was mine—and tucked her in. I leaned down and kissed Josh’s soft cheek then, brushing Lulu’s gorgeous red hair back from her face, I kissed her forehead.

Then I walked out, before I changed my mind, before I picked her back up and took her with me, to my bed where I could hold her in my arms and know she was safe.