Rourke laughed and led the way across the glitzy lobby to a doorway that took us along a few employee hallways. Hunter seemed nervous as we entered the back of the house that was obviously not meant for public enjoyment. Everything was clean but wasn’t glamorous. We went downstairs to the basement the way we’d gone to the weapons room, only Rourke detoured us around until I might have gotten lost trying to find the way again on my own. Finally, he opened the door on a bare room I’d been in once or twice previously. I smiled.
There sat David Nunzio, wrapped up like a present.
“Oh, that fucker,” Hunter growled and stepped forward around me. Rourke raised his eyebrows in my direction and seemed particularly disconcerted when Hunter punched David across the face, rocking both David and the chair where he was restrained by an ungodly amount of rope. There was a foul puddle on the floor and a stench in the air, like maybe he’d been tied up since he got here.
“That one isn’t yours.” I gave Rourke a wink, and he sighed.
“I don’t think I can watch this. It bothers me. I didn’t expect that.” Rourke sounded truly surprised, but I knew he didn’t mean us beating on a man tied to a chair. He meant seeing someone who looked so much like his boyfriend handing out said beating.
“It’s okay. We’re good.” I strolled over and tutted at David as Rourke left and closed the door behind us. Tadgh edged closer to Corbin, who gave him a shove, and then he immediately straightened up. I laughed at their antics.
“Hunter, get that gag out of his mouth,” I said, “but be careful.”
He nodded at me, slicing the cloth with a knife from his pocket. David spat at him, but it was a feeble effort after the gag and being left to dehydrate. He looked nothing like the spoiled man I’d known. Both eyes were swollen from a beating he’d already taken, and he was missing a few teeth on the bottom.
“Fuck you, Irish,” he shouted, and his voice echoed around the room.
“Ach, no thanks. I need one bit of information, and one only, for Mr. Killough.”
David faded paler than a ghost as I stood there smiling at him. I’d never seen anyone go so white so fast. “Did youradoptedfather, Bert, know what ya were doing? Are the real mobbed-up Italians attempting to shake up their territory in that bit of the city? Or was that just ya, ya stupid wee shite?”
He scowled and hung his head, and I had my answer.
“I respect what ya tried to do.”
He jerked his head up and hope sparkled to life in his eyes. This was always the best part.
“But I’m going to kill ya anyway.”
Corbin snorted and made a production out of pulling his gun from the holster at his side. Hunter’s jaw ticked as Corbin approached David. For his part, David tried to rock his chair, and began stuttering, but no full words made it out of his mouth.
“He shot at me.” Hunter turned to Corbin with a furious scowl. “I’m tired of letting people do shit to me and not fucking doing anything about it.” He held out his hand. Corbin glanced at me with his eyebrows raised, but I had no problems with it, so I nodded.
Corbin passed the gun to Hunter.
“Boss, do ya want me to do it instead?” Tadgh came to slide in front of me with a hand fluffing up his red hair. He tongued the gap between his teeth, and then said, “I know he’s your boyfriend, he shouldn’t have to—”
The shot wasn’t loud because there was a silencer on the end of the barrel, but it still shocked me into leaning around Tadgh. He stepped to the side, and I jogged the short distance to Hunter’s side. David Nunzio sagged against his restraints, a perfect round hole in his forehead and the back of his skull a disgusting mess where the bullet had come out again. Beyond David was a wooden tool bench with a brand-new hole in it.
Hunter stood there with the gun in his hand, chest rising and falling fast, and I nearly gaped at him. I never would have expected this from the man I’d first caught sight of poolside upstairs, hiding in a corner all alone. My blood boiled hot at the sight of him looming over my enemy.
“You’re amazin’.”
He glanced up, and I got lost in his stunning eyes as he raised the gun barrel to the ceiling. The curl of his lips was slight, but there, and meant more to me than a full-out laugh from someone else.
Fuck, I never wanted him to go home.
16
Hunter
Grant’s smile stretched across his face and he walked toward me with a bounce in his step. Behind him, Reaper carried suitcases into the front hallway. Reaper had shown up a week ago, and he hadn’t let Grant out of his sight. If it had been two months since I’d lived in the same house as my fiancé, I might be acting the same way. Hell, I’d barely been sleeping with Jamie that long and I never wanted to be away from him, and the last month had been completely amazing because I almost never was. He’d even taken me to Miami with him to check on a few things for Killough.
“You’re sure that King’s fine with him coming home?” Jamie asked and draped his arm around my shoulders. We didn’t have to go into the city today and I was happy about that. After Grant went home, Jamie said we’d probably split our time between his apartment in the city and this place. His house was massive and had anything a person could want, but I thought I’d feel more at home in the city.
Problem was, I hadn’t really told King I wouldn’t be coming home to New Gothenburg yet. Grant knew. He came over to give me a hug, and I held onto his friendly warmth longer than I should have, barely able to shove down some odd emotion that wanted to explode everywhere. It was a little like love and a lot like regret, and I was sure I’d miss him.
“You can always change your mind and come home,” he murmured, patting the back of my head. Reaper crossed his arms behind us, staring me down.
