Page 82 of Shattered King

I turned to Jude, who had finished his call and lifted a brow in question.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Lucinda, I give you my word on that. I just want to talk, nothing more.”

I didn’t answer. It was a lie and we both knew it. No matter how he worded it, he’d just threatened my aunt.

“You’re going to meet me in half an hour at the location I text you. I have questions for you and you’re going to give me the answers . . . then I’ll send you home, back to your son.”

Another thinly veiled threat.

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling sick to my stomach. Jude was still watching me, so I forced a careless shrug and rolled my eyes, mouthing “telemarketers,” before turning away.

“When?” I choked.

“Thirty minutes. Give me your number.”

I rattled off my cell number. Then he hung up.

My mind felt like it was in a washing machine on the spin cycle, my heart a lump of lead in my chest.

Jude went to use the bathroom, and I quickly worked out a plan. It wasn’t a great plan, but I didn’t have much time to work with. I was scared out of my mind, but I didn’t have any other choice but do what he asked. I also knew Hunter would find me. He’d come for me. He’d turn this city inside out if he had to, but I knew he would. My scrambling brain couldn’t think of a way out, not when someone was poised and waiting to go after my aunt.

Scooping up Josh, I took him to his bedroom and tucked him into his bed, heart hammering. He was thankfully due for his nap and dropped off in a matter of minutes. I trusted Jude. We’d spent a lot of time with the guy over the last couple of weeks. I knew Josh would be okay with him.

I went to my and Hunter’s room, and dragged a gray hoodie over my T-shirt, then went to the closet and searched for some kind of weapon. I knew he had to have something here. Coming up empty, I went to his bedside table. I found a small switchblade and took it. If I had to do this, I wasn’t going in there completely helpless. Grabbing my purse from the dresser, I shoved it inside then strode to the living room. Snatching up my phone from the coffee table, I shoved it in the back pocket of my jeans. I headed for the door without missing a beat.

Jude was sitting at the breakfast bar and shot to his feet when he saw me. I ignored him and kept moving. “Hang on, Lulu. You can’t leave the apartment.”

“Josh should sleep for a couple hours,” I said then dove for the door. Shoving it open, I ran as fast as I could. Jude pounded after me, but I knew he wouldn’t leave Josh alone to follow me. I’d counted on it.

He yelled my name, pissed as hell and cursing up a storm. I ignored him and kept on running.

* * *

The scarred wood was smooth under my fingers, it was also sticky, and I made sure not to lean on it. I lifted my glass, took a sip of my Coke and stared at the entrance.

This place was the definition of a dive bar. Low lighting, classic rock pumping from the speakers, customers that looked like they were part of the permanent fixtures. I’d run out of Hunter’s apartment building, then ran some more until I was struggling for breath. The text giving me directions came a short time after that. I’d grabbed a cab and here I was—I looked down at the damp coaster under my drink—at Big Johnny’s.

I’d gotten a few looks when I walked in, mostly because I was panting, red faced, and sweating, but I’d ignored the looks, ordered my drink, and tried to blend in, taking a seat in one of the corners.

I checked my phone. I had it on silent and the awful feeling in my belly tightened when I saw all of Hunter’s missed calls and frantic text messages. I made myself ignore them.

A big guy—wide back and shoulders, huge thighs—walked in. He looked like a professional body builder. His hair was blond and cropped short, features broad and prominent. His eyes searched the bar until they found me then locked on. Fear spiked though me. This was my ride.

My jaw started to ache and I realized I was clenching my teeth. He moved toward me.

“Glad to see you can follow instructions,” he said when he reached me. “Let’s go, Tomas is waiting.”

Oh shit.

I curled my fingers around the switchblade in my purse and nodded, getting to my feet.

The big man tilted his head to the door. “We’re going to walk out of here now. If you make a fuss, resist in anyway, I’ll call our friend in Hudson, understand?”

Fuck. I had no choice but to go with him. He stood and I did too, gripping the knife tighter. He wrapped his fingers around my elbow and led me to the door. We stepped out into daylight. A typical overcast New York day. I struggled to breath evenly, panic hitting me hard enough to hyperventilate. He yanked me to the right, into an alleyway. A car was parked there. My fear reached its peak at that moment and I opened my mouth to scream, but his hand slapped over my mouth. Grabbing my wrist with the other, he pried the blade from my fingers.

He grinned down at me.

It wasn’t a nice grin.