Page 10 of Shattered King

“I love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, baby.”

She relaxed into me and eventually fell asleep. I stayed where I was for another hour, unable to bring myself to let her go. A nurse would come soon to check on her and I couldn’t be here when they did. I turned in her arms, leaned in, and pressed my nose to her shoulder, breathing in her scent. There was a hint of her favorite perfume lingering, a smell I would always associate with her. A smell that even now made my heart ache.

I kissed her cheek, then pulled my arm away, and slid off the bed. “Bye, Mom.”

Then I walked out the door, knowing that was the last time I would see her. The last time I would ever hold her. The last time I’d hear her soft voice calling me baby.

I walked down the hall on autopilot, feeling numb and cold, broken. I didn’t think it was possible to break any more than I already had, but I’d been wrong. I used the closest bathroom, pulled off the scrubs, leaving them in the stall, then left the building.

People moved around me, the hospital grounds still busy even at one in the morning. I barely noticed them, didn’t remember walking out the door, only realizing where I was when I spotted my car a short distance ahead of me.

I’d parked it down a side street, where it was quiet, only the occasional car driving by. I pulled the keys from my pocket, walking around to the driver’s side.

I had my hand on the door handle when someone grabbed me from behind, slamming me into the car.

I grunted, the wind knocked from me, my head colliding with edge of the roof from the impact. A rough hand grabbed my hair, fingers tugging and fisting the strands. I reached back and scratched the arm attached, sucking in pained, gasping breaths.

Eyes watering, I let out a shriek and kicked back as hard as I could, connecting with something.

Whoever held me growled and spun me around. I sucked in a sharp breath when familiar blue eyes burned down at me.

I started to shake.

And before my brain had time to fully process the consequences of Hunter’s presence here, pure joy rushed though me.

It only lasted a second, because I quickly became aware of how hard and cold those eyes were. The dark edge, the disdain. The joy was instantly replaced with dread, and another round of adrenaline fired through my veins. I jerked out of his hold, taking him off guard. Ignoring the pain in my head, and the ache in my gut, I ran. Ran as fast as I could. I had no idea where I was going, just that I had to get away.

Strong arms came around me from behind, yanking me off my feet. I struggled, but it was useless. Still, I fought for all I was worth. He spun me around again, pressing me into the cold steel of the car behind me.

He was breathing heavily, those piercing blue eyes boring into me, that hard body a relentless wall, blocking me from escape. “When you run away, you make me think you aren’t you happy to see me, Lulu.”

I was shaking violently now. “I . . . I . . . Hunter . . .”

He shook his head. “Shut up.”

“Let me go . . . I . . .”

He covered my mouth with one hand, pinned me to the side of the car with his body, then pulling his phone from his back pocket, keyed in a text. When he was done, he grabbed my upper arm and pulled me away roughly, leading me across the road. Opening the driver’s side door of a black SUV, he shoved me in, then kept coming, forcing me to scramble over to the passenger side. He slammed the door shut, fingers still gripping my arm, and flipped open the glove compartment to pull something out. Taking my wrist, he latched on . . . cuffs. I started to struggle again.

“Come quietly or I’ll stun gun your ass.”

I stopped struggling. I didn’t doubt he’d do it.

He attached the other cuff to something below the seat, so I was forced forward, my face resting on the dash. This position made my head throb harder and put pressure on my aching belly. I was this close to puking.

He started the car and pulled out into the street. I thought about my car, unlocked behind us, then thanked God I hadn’t brought Josh with me. He was safe. What I didn’t do was think about why I was handcuffed to the floor of Hunter’s car, or what he planned to do to me.

I was facing him. I didn’t want to, but it was either that or rest the aching side of my head on the hard dashboard. The muscles in his forearms jumped and bunched as he drove. He’d added more tattoos. They hadn’t been full sleeves before he went to prison, and now his arms and hands were completely covered. My gut tightened at the sight of his scarred knuckles. How he must had gotten those scars . . .

My gaze traveled higher, to his neck. More ink. As familiar to me as my own reflection. His eyes were focused on the road, but I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t as calm as he was trying to appear. For one thing, his square jaw was hard as stone, and the muscle at the side was jumping every now and then, like he was grinding his teeth. For another, those inked fingers were gripping the wheel tight enough to turn his skin white.

“What are you going to do?” The words just popped out of my mouth, without my say-so.

He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes fixed ahead.

“Hunter . . .”