17. Hunter

SEVENTEEN

HUNTER

S ince my time with Winter in the shower a few days ago, we've been working toward maintaining intimacy. She slips into my room when she can't sleep, and I hold her until her breaths slow.

But she always declines when I ask her to make a permanent move into my room.

I don't push her.

But we're talking. We're sharing touches.

I'll wait however long I need to.

Leo and I sit in my office with the rest of our shareholders on a video conference. The investors are antsy, and they're all looking at me and Leo to solve the problem.

But despite Misha's assurances not to worry about the FDA, they're not budging. We haven't found our previous contacts on the inside, but the most damning development is I can't gather enough fucks to care about the outcome.

So I leave everything regarding BwP to Leo to figure out, as always.

We've just closed the conference when the doorbell interrupts our tense strategizing .

Our doorbell is the most absurd sound ever. It's one of the things that Ella didn't update when she renovated the house, and it rings for a solid thirty seconds in a series of musical notes.

The doorbell ringing is an issue, though, primarily because a) no one should get past the gates and onto the property, and b) no one would ring the doorbell. We would greet them upon their arrival at the gate and escort them up.

Whoever is on the other side of the door is not an invited or welcome guest.

Leo and I look at each other on high alert.

"Expecting someone?" I ask Leo.

"Nope," he replies grimly.

I pull up the cameras, thumbing through the video feed as I storm toward the front of the door. The three guards I've stationed at the gate are face-down in individual pools of blood.

"Shit!" Leo moves toward the door alongside me as his fingers fly over the phone. He yells commands at Rio, and the sound of several pairs of boots rushing in comes from the back of the mansion.

"Fuck!" I hiss as I round the corner to the foyer, and pure rage snaps in my neurons when I hear Winter's soft voice.

"Oh," she says.

Blair Winthrope, dressed in a white designer jumpsuit and patterned scarf, is in the front entryway. Winter stands in front of her, Kitty in her trembling arms.

Uncharacteristically, Kitty growls, showing his jagged teeth to Blair.

I'm sure Blair imagines herself as Jackie O. Her up-swept hair and oversized sunglasses give her an air of mystery.

Standing in an arc in front of six black SUVs is her security detail. They all have guns out.

Protect Winter.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Blair?" I step in front of Winter, blocking Blair's view of her beautiful and stricken face.

"Now, is that any way to greet your soon-to-be-wife?" Her red-painted lips tip up in a farce of a smile as she removes her glasses.

Winter's breath catches, and she steps away, putting distance between us. I call on my restraint as the overwhelming need to throttle Blair pulses at my fingertips.

I reach my hand back, snagging Winter's wrist. She tries to pull away, to run away. I tighten my grasp, using my thumb to rub the delicate skin of her inner wrist.

"Are you here to be useful and tell me where my father is hiding?" I spit at her.

"I have no clue where Ben is," she says, looking up at me, her eyes wide and innocent. It's an act. I know it is.

"Then what the fuck do you want? Or did you just want to be dramatic by coming up here and killing the guards at my front gate?"

"Oh, God," Winter chokes out on a strangled breath.

Get control.

I squeeze Winter's hand.

"I've come to deliver our wedding invitations. And I wanted to see my poor fiancé. Is that too much to ask? Those fools at the front wouldn't let me in. They were so disrespectful, and they pulled their guns out first. Madness! We're about to be married, Hunter. You'd think they'd have me on the approved guest list."

She peers at me with a doe-eyed look.

"Anyway. Here," she continues as if she didn't just casually brush off the fact that her people gunned down my security staff.

I grind my teeth as she pulls a heavy card stock invitation set from her large envelope-shaped purse. She holds it out to me, and I don't take it .

"Not your fiancé. There is no wedding. Get the fuck out of here."

Blair blinks.

"Winter, is it?" Blair asks, looking at me with uninhibited aggression. Then she steps to her right, aiming her gaze at Winter.

"You don't so much as breathe in her direction," I growl.

She tilts her head to the side. "Interesting," she says. "Ben was so sure he would have killed you. You're like a cat with nine lives. Or maybe a cockroach."

Winter gasps, releasing a small whimper. It doesn't take much to know that Blair is talking about Adam Collins. My shoulders tense, and I'm ready to raze the ground. I take a step toward Blair, fully prepared to spill her blood against the gleaming marble floor.

"Careful," she says sharply. The slide of a round being chambered causes me to freeze every muscle in my body. I tamp down the urge to say fuck it and kill Blair where she stands.

From the movement I feel to the side of me, I don't have to look to know my men have their guns trained on Blair's tail, just as Blair's people have their guns trained on me.

But Winter is right there, right behind me, and I'll be damned if I let her see any more death.

I step away from Blair, and Winter presses her body against mine. Her head falls to the center of my back, and she places a palm flat on my right shoulder blade. Her touch and Kitty's rapid breathing in her other arm calm me in a way I didn't know I craved until now.

I don't say anything else to Blair, but when she gives a brief look to her guards, they lower their weapons. My men do the same.

"Well, I expect to see you at the rehearsal dinner." She turns on her heel, and when she reaches the doorframe, she looks over her shoulder and says, "Oh, Hunter? Do be careful on the roads. You don't want to have another accident. Next time, you might not be so lucky."

Then she's gone.

"Hunter," Winter slurs from her safe space at my back. "What was she talking about?"

I close my eyes and pull Winter's arm, pinning it to my chest.

Inhale. Exhale.

Silently, I guide her to my bedroom. She doesn't protest; she just follows along with Kitty in her arms.

Once I slam the door closed, I feel her walk deeper into the room as I rest my head on the closed door with my back to her.

"What was she talking about?" Her voice trembles.

I don't respond.

A sob breaks through, and the jingle of Kitty's collar clicking against his ID tags indicates she's put him down.

"Hunter." Her voice is small. "Did your father have something to do with Adam taking me?"

I turn around, resting on my hands as I lean against the door.

I suppose, on some level, I want to barricade her inside so she can't run away from me like she should.

"Why did you answer the door, Sunbeam? Don't ever answer that door."

She shakes her head. "Tell me the truth." Her voice is so, so fragile, and hearing it causes my heart to break again. I don't know how it can keep beating.

"Winter," I say. Air seizes in my chest.

She holds a hand up. "No, Hunter. Answer the question." She keeps her hand in front of her, and the sight of it trembling makes me want to rage.

"Yes," I blurt out. She drops her hand.

"Oh," she says. "Oh, okay."

She sits on my bed, then pops up as if it's burned her. She moves to stand in the corner with her arms crossed over her chest. Closed off.

Kitty circles her.

"How did it—what happened? How? Ex-explain it all to me."

"Winter, I?—"

"No, Hunter. Tell me everything. You owe me that much," she rushes out. Her anger grows, lacing each word and lashing me like a whip.

I take a deep breath. I do owe her that much.

"You told me that you knew that Adam was up for parole. He wasn't going to receive it, but then my father found out about us. He knew about us well before the country club." Her knuckles blanch as her hold tightens on her arms.

I continue, "He met with the parole commissioner and bribed him. That's why Adam was released."

She breathes in. She breathes out. Once more, a set of each.

Then she says, "Wow."

I'm silent for a moment. "I can understand you being angry about this, Sunb?—"

"You think I'm angry, Hunter?" Rushed, tense words spill from her mouth.

"You have to be," I reply. I knock my head back against the door.

"Angry. Angry?" She starts to pace. "Yes, I'm fucking angry. I'm—" She whips her hand across the nightstand, rocketing the ceramic lamp and picture frames to the floor. Shards of porcelain and glass scatter at her feet.

Kitty runs under the bed, hiding.

Winter screams and drops to the floor. Her roar is deep, pained. This is the sound of her grief.

I rush to her, intent on pulling her into my arms. And she lets me—but only for a second. She pushes at me, clawing at me as tears and snot mix on her face.

"I hate you ," she screams, her enraged words clanging in the space between my ears. "You and your fucked-up family did this to me!" She pushes me again, falling back on the broken glass of the picture frames and accents as she does.

"Winter, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—" My face is dry, but inside, I'm raging alongside her.

I did this. I didn't protect her. I did this. I did this.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! " She sobs, backing away from me in a crab walk until she huddles in the corner.

"Winter, you're bleeding, baby," I say, unwilling to accept her "I hate yous." I reach for her hand, which still grips a piece of broken glass.

She grips it tighter, pulling further into herself as her sobs turn into hiccups. Her eyes are bloodshot. She raises her hand, staring at the cut on her palm like she's never seen anything like it before.

I silently crouch down in front of her. Without looking at me, she says with stunning clarity, "I wish I never met you, Hunter Brigham."

I swallow down the bile rising in my throat. "I don't think you really mean that, Sunbeam."

Seconds tick on. Then she says, "I really, really do. I want to leave. I want you out of my life."

My heart breaks. But that's not anything I can ever accept. I'll give her space. But let her go?

Never.

"Okay, baby," I say. I stand, moving back to the door.

"Where are you going, Hunter?" she asks. She looks dazed.

"I'm giving you space, and then we're going to talk about this later."

She sniffs. "No, I just want to go home," she says.

"This is your home, Winter."

"No! I want to go back to my apartment."

"Too bad," I say .

"So what, you're going to keep me prisoner? You're no better than he was," she says, and I snap.

In a second, I'm in front of her, crowding her, looming over her. Fear radiates from her eyes, and for the first time, it's fear of me.

It guts me.

I get closer to her, pulling her into my arms. She pushes at my chest, and I allow her to separate from me.

"Don't say shit like that to me ever again, Sunbeam. I'm not keeping you prisoner because I know you want to be here. You want to be here with me."

"You sound like Adam. That's the type of shit he'd say," she retorts. She looks caged in, ready to fight if she can't flee.

"Don't say things you can't take back, Winter."

"I wish I never met you. You and your father are toxic, fucked-up people."

"I am nothing like my father," I say. Anger and grief and fear—fucking fear—crawl up my spine.

"Oh, yeah?" she asks, her tone mocking. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are swollen, but none of this stops her from spitting her vitriol at me.

I deserve it. I can take it.

"I'm nothing like him," I say. "I love you, Winter. I won't hurt you. I won't use you. I love you. I'll kill anyone who dares to hurt you."

"No, you wouldn't," she hisses.

"I already fucking have," I grind out, matching the energy of her words. My chest pinches tight, the up and down of my rapid breaths are painful.

That gives her pause. "What?"

"The commissioner that took the bribe? I hunted him down and slit his throat in his bed."

"You lie," she says, scoffing but looking at me warily all the same .

"Adam's parole officer? I cornered him in an alleyway in his shitty neighborhood. Leo and I put a bullet in his brain."

She shakes her head, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

"Oh, you don't believe me?" I say in a voice laced with the force of my agonized fury.

"No, I don't." She visibly swallows. "You wouldn't do something like that. You wouldn't protect me like that. You wouldn't avenge me. You couldn't even stick up for me to your father. You lied to me about being engaged for weeks. You are—you are not a good person, Hunter."

I whirl her around, bringing her over to the small desk in the corner of the room. "I have never pretended to be a good person, baby, but for you, I'll be evil incarnate." I rip the drawer open, pulling out the file.

I pull her in front of me. "Don't believe me?"

I slap the picture Rio took of the newly deceased body. "Buck Fitzgerald. Parole officer to one Adam Collins. He really fucked up when he took that hush money and decided to ignore his duties. See that nice round bullet hole in his forehead?"

Violent tremors start at her back and creep down her arms and legs.

I fling Buck's picture away, slamming the picture of Michael Uvalde on the table. His slit throat and gaping neck make a grotesque image.

"Michael Uvalde. Commissioner for the Virginia Parole Board."

She gasps, trembling. "Hunter," she says.

"He was the one who signed the order for Adam's release. Mr.Uvalde also signed his own death warrant that day. The people who helped orchestrate your abduction? I'm hunting them down, and soon they'll all be gone. My father. Blair. Morris fucking Winthrope. They're all on borrowed time. I will annihilate anyone who has dared to hurt you, baby. I will protect you. Even if that means protecting you from yourself."

I kiss the side of her head, holding her tight. She doesn't resist. She doesn't do or say anything.

When I let her go and walk out the door, I call out, "Get some rest. I'll be back to talk in a little bit."

I slam the door and lock her in.

The resounding thud of her throwing something against the door is her response.