Chapter Two
Faye wanted to suck the words back in the second she said them, but Hunter had to know the truth. He showed no reaction, not even a twitch of an eyebrow or a shift of his shoulders. Instead, he just studied the picture. For minutes. Then, his hand shockingly steady, he picked up the intake form and started to read.
Faye shivered. The river rushed outside, and birds chirped merrily in the trees. Yet the silence inside the cabin, hot and suffocating, threatened to choke her.
Finally, he set the form down. “So the S.O.B. was alive as of six months ago.”
“Yes,” Faye said, having already read the forms, flashing back to the game they’d played as kids. When it was storming outside, the four of them—she, Hunter, Raider, and Mark—would hide beneath one of the bunkbeds at Miss Angelina’s and think of the worst ways their fathers could’ve died. They were all bad men, and her favorite fantasy had been that they would kill each other. As far as she knew, the monsters had never crossed paths. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Hunter scrubbed both hands down his face. “Yeah. It’s not surprising. I mean, Ramsay was good with the ladies. Who the hell knows how many half-siblings I have out there?” He looked back at the picture. “Sixteen years younger than me. Hell. I could be this kid’s dad.”
“Except I never got pregnant,” she whispered. They’d been faithful to each other—she knew that in her bones.
“The kid would’ve at least had a chance if he was ours and not my dickhead of a father’s,” Hunter said, pushing the picture back onto the stack, glancing at the intake form again. “Instead, the mom dies when he’s four, and he ends up with Ramsay or whoever Ramsay left him with for the last decade or so.” He rubbed at a scar across his collarbone. “I wonder if the asshole still throws knives when he’s angry.”
Faye’s damaged arm hurt, as if in response. Her father had broken it three times before the authorities sent her to live with Miss Angelina. The smell of whiskey still made her want to puke. She shoved away the bad memories. “I wanted to wait until I told you before calling Raider in.” With Mark dead, it was only the three of them now.
“Raider’s busy with a new assignment, and it seems like his head is on right,” Hunter said.
She couldn’t explain it, but the three of them needed to do this together. “Miss Angelina wants him in on this,” she said.
“Well. I guess that’s that, then.” Hunter drew a cell phone from his back pocket and pressed speed dial, putting the phone on speaker in the center of the table.
“Hello, brother,” Raider answered, a barking dog inthe background.
Hunter drew back. “Didyouget a dog?”
“Shit, no. He’s kind of the team mascot, and he’s the craziest son of a bitch you’ve ever met,” Raider said. Something shuffled. “Shut up, Roscoe,” he bellowed.
The dogbarked louder.
Hunter’s lips twitched. “What ishe barking at?”
“A damn cat. Well, kitten,” Raider said, his bootsteps heavy through the phone. He slammed a door, and quiet descended. “I’m in an interrogation room just so I can talk. There is no discipline here.” The last was saidas a low growl.
God, it was good to hear his voice. They talked at least once a week, but she needed to hear him right now as she faced Hunter. Faye let the sound warm her. “Hey, Raider. How are you?”
Silence. Complete, stunned, heavy silence. Then he cleared his throat. “Is Miss Angelina all right?”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Yes, she’s fine. I know it’s a surprise to hear that Faye and I have stopped throwing punches long enough to call you.”
Raider was quiet in that way he had. “Is oneof you dying?”
Faye sat back in her chair, amusement zinging through her. “No.”
“Am I dying?” Raider asked.
Hunter tapped his fingers on the table. “No. Geez, you’ve gotten dramatic.”
“Holy shit, you two are back together. I knew it. I always said if one of you pulled your head out of your ass, it’d work out. It’s nice to be right. I mean, I usually am.” His low voice rose in animation and what could only be termed happiness.
Faye jerked, her stomach cramping. “No. We definitely are not back together.” Regardless of the fantasies she’d had through the years.
Hunter keep his blue gaze on the phone and didn’tlook up at her.
Raider sighed, the sound amplified through the speaker. “So you’re both still morons. Good to know.” A tone of pure frustration came from him next. “All right. Nobody is dying and you two are still idiots. The anniversary of Mark’s death isn’t until next month, and I’m sure we’re not planning a summer camping trip like we used to. What is going on?”
Faye bit her lip. Should she letHunter explain?
