4. Hunter

FOUR

HUNTER

I f I don't keep moving, I'll die. I know this to be true. Because in the quiet, still moments where my heart surprises me with another beat and Winter's not home, I die little by little.

Winter is gone. Winter is gone. I can't stop moving because Winter is gone.

" What! " I yell at the closed door to the fishbowl when someone knocks. Leo walks in. He looks tired, and there are dark circles under his eyes. Trailing behind him are two more security personnel. Around us, everyone is on high alert, working without stopping to track down Winter. But the enraging truth is that we're no closer to finding her than forty-eight hours ago.

"Have you found her?" My agitation rises with every move of the second hand on the clock across the room.

"Are you in pain?" He moves to the side table where I threw my Dilaudid script. My injuries from the car chase include a fractured collarbone, a few cracked ribs, a nasty gash at my hairline that required stitches, and an apparent concussion .

Leo walks back to me with the bottle, and I bat it out of his grip.

He watches the prescription roll across the floor. I want to feel the pain. I don't want to numb it at all. Because out there somewhere, Winter is suffering so much more.

She's scared and?—

Stop thinking. Keep moving. Stop thinking. Keep moving.

I flex my trembling hands at my side.

Leo's phone rings and he listens for a minute before turning to me.

"Do you know a Veronica Palmer?" he asks.

I drop my head back as far as my injuries will allow, staring at the ceiling.

"That's Winter's best friend," I say.

Leo decides to let her in without my input. It's the only right thing to do, even though my body tenses at the impending confrontation.

Five minutes later, when her shoes squeak over the polished floors, I'm prepared and unprepared for the level of vitriol she spews when she slams the door open. Rio stands to her side, ushering her into the work area, but even he struggles to contain her.

Veronica's breaths come in short bursts. I presume the impact of her rage and the largeness of her pregnant belly limit her ability to inhale.

"I'm going to kill you!" she says. Blotchy red patches cover her face, and it's a wonder she can see with her swollen, tear-filled eyes.

She moves faster than I expect. One second, she's standing at the doorway, seething. The next, she's in front of me, punching my face and chest with her tiny fists.

The action shoots searing pain across my broken bones.

I welcome the agony.

Rio lifts the woman off me, holding her arms behind her.

"I know you're upset," he says, releasing her a fraction .

" UPSET ?" Veronica interjects.

"But you have to calm down. Can you calm down?" Rio holds Veronica to his chest and tries running his hands up and down her arms. He talks to her with a soft, calm tone, but Veronica appears immune to his charms because she struggles against his hold.

"Calm down, malen'ka mama."

We all swing our eyes to the entrance of the fishbowl where the imposing presence of Misha Hroshko freezes out the room. I know limited Ukrainian, but calling her "little mama" is so opposite to the deathly stillness his arrival brings.

Veronica's eyes land on him, and her body goes slack in Rio's hold. She starts to cry as she looks at the tall Ukrainian man.

"Hunter Brigham," he says in an unmistakable accent. "It's wonderful to meet you again. It is unfortunate it's under these circumstances."

I look at him for a hard beat, then swing my gaze at Leo. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

For the first time, I see Leo freak out at something I've said or done. His eyes widen to a comical point, bugging out of his head.

My attitude has been insufferable over the last few days. I haven't slept; I haven't eaten. My every thought revolves around the urgent need to find Winter.

You promised to keep her safe and look what happens—not even hours later.

I don't stuff down the thought. Instead, I let it wrap around me, whip at me until I bleed.

It won't be enough.

I breathe in as deeply as my broken bones will allow me to. "My apologies. I'm not at my best at this moment."

Misha doesn't smile. He quirks an eyebrow at Leo.

He chooses to let me live another day and says, "As a favor to Leonardo, I have pulled in my resources to assist you in finding your woman," he says. "It was very well hidden, but we've been able to track down who took her from your club yesterday."

"Who is it? Where is she?" My mouth dries as I suck in panicked breaths.

Misha cuts a glance at Leo. The latter stares at me hard.

I lift my hands as a sign of silent apology.

Misha's gaze returns to me, and with a smirk, he continues.

"Were you aware that Ms.Vaughan has a protective order against a man named Adam Collins? The reason for the order is sealed; it appears to be dating back to her adolescence." He scrolls a bit more. "Of course, we got the sealed information, but that's just background noise. The important thing is Adam Collins was granted parole five weeks ago."

Veronica releases a strangled cough. "Parole? We were told he'd never be granted parole! How…?" She trails off, and she reaches for one of the chairs.

Rio helps her sit.

The bottom of my stomach drops out. In the grocery store, I'm confident she saw him. I know she did. He's been stalking her.

Where does Father play into this? My head spins.

"Well, where the fuck is he?"

"I sent a man to check on him at his last recorded address. Mr.Collins was nowhere to be found. That said, we pulled the surveillance from that night at Appleton. Looks like a match. What do you think?"

Misha hands the tablet over to me with a side-by-side picture of Adam Collins' inmate photo and a grainy CCTV still of a man standing in front of one of the Tahoes that our security detail uses. He wears a black hat low over his eyebrows when he opens the back door to the SUV.

I tap the screen, and the video footage begins to play .

Heat rushes to my face when Winter's form appears in the display. My eyes trace the beautiful curve of her neck, the supple roundness of her ass, and her powerful thighs. She barely glances at the man before entering the car. Her eyes remain fixed on the phone in her hand. She's distracted.

His profile comes into view when he turns to walk around the front of the car. When I analyze the image, it's clear the man is Adam Collins.

I pass the tablet to Veronica, and Leo acts as the courier, handing it over to her. She studies the images for a long minute before looking at me and then at Misha.

"That's him. That's Adam," she says with tight lips.

"Great, now we know who took Winter—" My voice cracks at the mention of her name.

Fucking weak. Fucking pathetic.

"Now, do we have any idea where she is?" I finish.

Misha's mouth quirks up on one side.

"Potentially," he says.

"Potentially?" I say with forced patience. It's not that I want to piss the most powerful Mafiya leader off. I don't. But maybe part of me revels in the idea of being pummeled by this guy.

He stares at me hard.

"What do you want?" I ask, as a deep quaking chill settles in my bones. Men like Misha Hroshko don't give information for free. Nor do they do anything out of some deep-seated generosity. He wants something. And I know it won't be something minor.

"Your latest project shows much promise, yes?" he says. I search for what he means by project.

"You mean Project Panacea?" I hedge.

"Yes, unless you have more projects close to being released," he replies.

We don't. Not really. The thought of any new technology isn't even on the table right now. Maybe fifteen years from now, but to date? All we have is Panacea.

"What. Do you want my company?" I ask, exhaustion settling into my muscles.

He waves his hand away at my suggestion.

"What use do I have with yet another company? I have plenty," he says. "I simply want to use your technology for someone important."

We look at each other for several heavy seconds. Even Veronica stops sniffling.

"We've barely gone into human trials with it," I tell him. "It's not ready to be shared."

He taps the top of the iPad in his hand. "I trust you to make it ready," he says.

This man knows where Winter is. For that information, I'll do whatever to whoever for whatever reason.

"Deal," I say.

Misha Hroshko smiles, and it's the most menacing look ever.

"Wonderful. It's a shame your people couldn't find her because it was quite easy. Nonetheless, he disabled many of the tracking options for us. His cellphone was found smashed on the side of the road. Your woman's too. And it looks like he ripped out the tracking devices your team puts on all their vehicles." He snorts, but the sound is humorless. Probably at the idea of our team being so sloppy that the security measures were in such a conspicuous place.

At least, that's the thought that surges through my brain.

"But he didn't remember the manufacturer's tracking systems record every location, even if it's deactivated." Misha turns the tablet around, showing a map zeroed in on the middle of the woods on the side of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

"North Carolina?"

The spot is stationary, deep in the mountains with proximity to Asheville. I scan the terrain on the map, and I'm dismayed that there aren't any direct roads leading to where the vehicle is.

But if she might be there....

"There is something else we've uncovered looking for your woman," Misha adds. "It has something to do with our mutual acquaintance." He cuts his eyes toward Veronica, and she bristles.

"I get to know everything," she says hotly.

Misha looks at her for a long beat, tilting his head to the side as he stares at her—as if she were a specimen at a museum.

A more fragile woman would have fainted at the aggression radiating off him. Instead, Veronica sits up in her chair, hand on her pregnant belly, and stares back at him with the same ferocity.

"She can know, Hroshko."

Misha turns to me and raises his eyebrow. "Very well. Mr.Collins was up for parole last month, but the state was fairly committed to not granting it. But then your father gave the Virginia Parole Board Commissioner five hundred thousand dollars. Mr.Uvalde is laughably transparent with all his personal information. Two days after that meeting, Collins' release was granted."

It's almost incredible how silently I break down. Inside my chest, my heart trips over its rhythm. It feels like I'm breathing through a coffee stirrer.

But I force myself to keep up the calm in and out and in and out of my breath. It's a steady rhythm to keep my body alive.

But inside my mind—there, in the central cortex of the most primitive part of my brain—I know my father has signed his death warrant.

His executioner? Me.

"I see," I say to Misha.

I activate my muscles and grit my teeth as I hobble across the room to the side table housing my prescriptions. "So my father did have something to do with this," I say.

You know who sent me.

Yes, I already fucking knew.

I grab the bottle of Dilaudid that Leo must have placed back on the table and swallow a pill without water.

"It seems that way, yes," Misha says calmly. "But we can discuss what to do about that situation later."

Ella disturbs the tension by rushing in the room while balancing two coffee cups.

I let the humor that she doesn't have candy in her hand settle in my consciousness.

But only for a moment.

"Having a party, Hunter? Who are you?" She directs this question to Veronica, pointedly avoiding Misha Hroshko's manic gaze.

"Veronica Palmer. Winter's sister," she whispers. She rubs a hand over her belly. There's a dazed look in her eyes.

Ella walks deeper into the room, giving Misha Hroshko a wide berth. She looks at me.

"Winter?" Ella asks in a breath.

"We know where she is," I say, and Ella's body sinks into itself. She places the coffee cups on the table.

"What are you waiting for? Go! I have August."

I kiss her forehead. "Thank you," I say.

"Just don't die. Or almost die again." She looks up at me with tears on her lashes. She's a vulnerability for me too.

"Your father seems to be on the run, scampering like a rat," Misha says to me as I hug Ella, and she stiffens.

"What about Dad?" she whispers. I squeeze her tighter, not wanting to destroy her world, but knowing I will anyway. Despite our father's atrocities, Ella has a different experience with him. Her relationship is peaceful and positive, and he spoils her .

That's why she's never understood why Dad and I didn't "get along."

She pushes me away. "No, H. Dad? Did—" I pull her back to me, but she moves away, walking backward until she can get a full view of everyone. "Did Dad have something to do with this? With any part of this?" Her hands shake when she folds them across her chest.

Misha breaks in and says in a bored tone, "Your father orchestrated your brother's woman's abduction." He turns to me.

My lips tingle, chilled.

Ella gasps, a choked sound rising out of her chest. "I don't understand," she stammers.

"Don't you, Ella? Get your fucking head out of the sand and look the fuck around," Leo grinds out, and we all look at him. He glares at her, and when I look back at Ella, she returns his gaze.

Devastation shines evident on her face.

"Ellie," I say, walking over to her. "Please take care of August. We will talk about all of this later."

Her mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out as tears trail down her face.

"Hunter, what…?" She looks around the room, her eyes bouncing from Misha to Veronica and back to me.

Then over to Leo.

She rushes face-first into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. It's a reflex. I want to be there for her—to help her process her hurt and confusion.

But I can't. I can't hold anything in my brain except getting to Winter.

She sniffs and pulls away from me. Her face is clear of all emotion, even though the rosiness in her cheeks and on her nose give her away.

"I'll look after August," she says, the words clipped. Choked .

She whirls out of the room without another word to any of us.

I look at Misha. "Can I add on to the favor?" I ask him.

The side of his nose twitches, and I suppose that's the closest he'll come to an amused smile. "Possibly," he says in that same bored tone.

"I need more manpower. Can I borrow a few of yours?"

An eyebrow raise joins the nose twitch. "Sure."

I will fix this. I will fix all this. And I'll never let anything like this happen ever again.

An hour later, Leo and I sit on our plane along with eight of our security detail and eight of Misha's.

As the jet engines hum, I allow the thoughts to rush in. They jumble in my brain, and I let them run free. The thought that's at the forefront? I have to live with the reality that I have so, so utterly failed her. And if she never forgives me, that's okay because I'll never forgive myself.