Page 92 of Shattered King

I wanted Lulu and Josh safe, wanted to start our lives together without the constant threat of Pierce Carson springing out of the woodwork and hurting my family. Destroying our lives all over again.

I was done.

Gripping the guy’s hair, I tugged him to his feet, then glanced over my shoulder to the bored-looking bastard leaning against the wall.

“You done, Hunt?” Jude asked. “Is it my turn yet?”

“Yeah, brother, get your tools. I’m done fucking around.”

Stanley jerked in my hold, eyes going wide like fucking saucers in his head. “W-what? Tools?”

I met the guy’s wild stare, let him see all the anger, the hatred inside me, the part of me that would do anything to keep Lulu and Josh safe and not bat a fucking eyelid. “Jude here is a master at extracting information. He’s good at what he does and enjoys the hell out of it. Isn’t that right, Jude?”

Jude might be an ex-cop and a stand-up guy, but he also had some serious demons riding him, and this fucker sniveling in front of us, with the criminal record he had? Yeah, I could see Jude was fighting every one of them.

Jude moved in, a pair of pliers in his hand. Stanley whimpered, struggled, then pissed himself.

“Fucking hate when they do that.” Jude muttered.

“You ready to talk, Stan?”

Stanley slumped in my hold. “Yeah, fuck. Yeah, I’ll talk.”

I dropped his ass back to the floor.

Thank fuck for that.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Lulu

I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling when I heard Hunter come home. I glanced at the clock. 3:00 a.m. He was talking, no doubt to Van, who had brought me home after Neco and Zeke had picked up Stanley. The door shut, then the beep of the alarm came next, followed by his boots on the hardwood floor moving down the hall.

But instead of coming straight to bed like he usually did, he went to the bathroom. I heard the shower come on. I needed to know what happened. I’d been in knots since I left Hunter. I pushed back the covers. Despite the warm night, I shivered when my feet hit the floor. I hugged myself, my fingers clutching the soft fabric of Hunter’s Ramones tee at my sides, and padded to the bathroom.

I knocked softly on the door, so I didn’t wake Josh. “Hunter?”

Pushing the door open, I walked in. He was already in the shower. My gaze went to his clothes lying in a heap on the floor. His pale gray shirt had patches and streaks of deep crimson all over it. I moved closer to get a better look. Blood.

I gasped and spun around. Hunter was watching me through the glass shower door. I couldn’t see him clearly, so I yanked it open, the soapy water running down the drain a sickening pink. I scanned his body from head to toe, frantically searching for injuries. Nothing.

I stood there, watching the water change, until it ran clear. It wasn’t his blood.

He shut the shower off and reached for me. “Lulu . . .”

Then I noticed his knuckles. They were busted up. Raw, red, and swollen. I don’t know what I expected. I mean, I knew he hadn’t planned to sit down for a coffee and chat with Stanley, but seeing it, seeing the blood soaked into Hunter’s clothes, the reality of what he’d done hit me hard.

He stared at me, expression closed off, blue gaze drilling into me. “It had to be done, you know this. There was no other way.”

I nodded numbly. “I know.”

He climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips. “Come here, Lulu.”

I stayed frozen to the spot.

The muscle in his jaw jumped, eyes locked on me, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. This was how it was done. I’d seen Pierce do it many times. In his world, Hunter’s world, it was just part of the job. My stomach twisted and I spun away, running to the living room. Suddenly the enclosed space of the bathroom felt suffocating.

The thought of Hunter hurting someone like that? I reached for the back of the couch. I hated it. It took a level of ruthlessness, an unhealthy ability to disconnect from your emotions—both things I associated with my stepfather. I wasn’t stupid. I knew Hunter was capable of a lot of things, things I wouldn’t like. I knew not everything he did was aboveboard, or even legal—but in making the decision to stay with him, I’d chosen to ignore it. I’d refused to think about what Hunter did for his job, and now I’d been confronted with it, in a way I couldn’t hide from.