Hunter (29 page)

I suddenly understood Hunter's silent aversion to the darkness.

You could see everything in it. About yourself. The people you love. The people you hate. In the silent, still aura that accompanied it, everything you'd ever done was laid bare in front of you, ready for you to rip apart.

I'd been doing it for a while now. Mostly my decision to run out of the motel. It was impulsive and stupid, and I could no longer blame him. I'd tried, but I couldn't. I hated Hunter with everything I had, but I didn't blame him for this situation I was in.

Mamma always warned me never to act in an emotional state.

This was why.

The sound of a door creaking had me snapping my head up. A sliver of light crept in, and a hand curved around the door frame. My heart clenched, and I took a deep breath.

What if Isaiah had decided not to wait for permission?

“Adriana?” Angelo whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” I replied back, just as quietly.

“I'll be back in five minutes.” The door clicked shut and the lock clicked.

I dropped my head back against the wall. Five minutes. I didn't even know how long that was anymore. I counted in my head, from one to sixty.

I'd done it three and a half times when he came back.

Either I was bad at counting, or he was quick.

He opened the door, and the light that came through meant I was able to see when he reached right to the top of the wall and hit a switch. The room flooded with a gentle yellow light, and I had to blink harshly several times to adjust to it. When I had, the door was closed and Angelo was sitting down in front of me.

“Here,” he said, pushing a small tray toward me. “It's not much, but I was told that a sandwich and a banana is all you need to survive.” He rolled his eyes.

I looked at the food then lifted my hands. “I'm kinda tied up.”

“Shit. That cunt,” he muttered. He leaned over to the side and pulled a small Swiss army knife out of his pocket. He unflipped the knife, and I held my arms out. He was careful to slice through the rope without cutting my skin, and the second he took the rope away, I sighed.

My wrists had never felt so free.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, massaging and flexing my free hands.

He smiled. “If I knew I'd have tried to get down here sooner.”

“It's okay.” I reached for the water bottle. The condensation on the outside proved it was cold, and if I wasn't dehydrated, I'd have been drooling. I unscrewed the cap and took a big mouthful. “Can you explain to me what's going on? What you're doing here?”

He shrugged one shoulder, then leaned back on his hands as I reached for the sandwich. “I've been spying on the Romano family for five years. I started when I first heard the rumors about Enzio looking for you. It seemed the easiest way to keep you and Alexandria safe. He and my father have never gotten along well, so he was happy to have a 'friend' in Los Angeles. I bought you a couple of years, especially when your mom got sick, just by telling them if you were in California, you weren't in L.A., because I'd have known.”

“What did he do when he found out you were lying?”

“I told him you must have just moved, and because we were moving more drugs for him, I had less help to keep an eye out for you and your mom.”

“And he bought that?”

His lips twitched. “He was too concerned with the fact you were alive. He lives in fear that one day he'll be killed.”

“So he should,” I muttered, picking the ham from the bread. Oddly enough, I wasn't hungry now I had food in front of me. “Does Armo know you're doing this? Gaige?”

Angelo shook his head. “Dad has no idea. Gaige found out after Carlo showed up because he heard me on the phone.”

“Is that why you didn't trust Hunter?” I looked up. “Wait—how did he even get to me?”

“I had to let him. And, yes. I didn't trust him as a person, but I knew he wouldn't kill you, Adriana. I've been living between New York and L.A. for five years. There isn't a person in the Romano family that doesn't know how crazy he went when you supposedly died. They all think that although you were kids, he loved you so much that your death drove him half to madness. Nobody thinks he'd be half the killer he is if you hadn't disappeared.”

I dropped the sandwich and looked down. “It doesn't matter, does it? None of it matters anymore. He lied to me about Darien's death, and if I kill Enzio, I can't lead the family unless I get married. Let's face it,” I glanced up, “Hunter isn't exactly Boss material, is he?”

“And you think my brother is?” He smirked, one eyebrow lifting with the side of his mouth.

“I didn't say that,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

“No, but you were thinking it. Look, Addy.” He leaned forward. “I haven't been risking my life for you for five years so you can take the safe option and marry my brother just to lead this family. He loves you, but he loves the California girl who'll never have responsibility. Gaige wouldn't know it if it smacked him in the face and gave him a lap dance.”

Well, there was some truth in that. “I don't know what to do, Angelo. I don't even know why I'm here or what you're doing here. Why go along with it?”

“Because it's easier to kill someone when they trust you,” he said in a low voice. His dark eyes captured mine, and I clasped my hands in my lap. “When you're on the inside. And guess what, Adriana? You're on the inside.”

I stared at him for the longest moment before drawing in a slow, long breath that filled me with a twisted sense of hope. He was right! I was on the inside now, in the house. I didn't have to worry about getting in, because—

I had to worry about getting out.

“Yeah, I am. The inside of essentially what is a fucking prison cell,” I snapped, looking down at my wrists. “Look, Angelo. He tied me up like a fucking wild animal.”

“Because you scare him. He knows you'll fight back if you can. Especially with your smart mouth.”

“I still have no idea how this is going to work. Has nobody considered it's easier to let me die? 'Cause, you know. I have. A lot of times.”

“Don't make me punch you for talking that bullshit.”

“Punch me and I'm gonna wring your balls into 2020.”

“There's that fight.” He grinned. “Drink.” He pushed the water toward me and I took it. “I've been trying to keep you alive for the last five years. I'm not letting you die right now. And despite what Gaige thinks, it's not so you can go back to California and make tiny Pontarellis with him.”

I shuddered. I was too young for babies. Killing the man who provided me with half my DNA? Not a problem. Marriage of convenience? If necessary, not a problem. Babies? Hell to the fuck no.

“Exactly.” He snorted. “Your home is here. Always has been.”

“Right, and that's great.” I screwed the cap on the bottle after a drink. “But that doesn't explain how I get out of this basement prison and kill that
figa.
”

He didn't even blink when I said basement. Smart guy. That's why he was going to one day run the Pontarelli family. “Do you trust me?”

“I don't trust anyone anymore. They keep pissing me off.”

Another grin. “Legit reason. But for my plan to work, you have to trust me.”

“I don't exactly have another choice, do I? Keep Isaiah and his dirty shit away from me, and you'll definitely have my trust.”

He sobered. “He won't touch you. I promise.”

“Okay. Then, yes. I trust you.”

Angelo stood, kissed the top of my head, and made for the door. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“Sure.”

The door shut behind him, and I hoped I wasn't making yet another mistake.

“Carlo?” Mom's voice breaks through my concentration.

I hate math. I don't understand its purpose—unless these angles are going to teach me how to kill a deer more accurately, it doesn't make much of a difference to me. “Hang on,” I reply, scribbling a—probably wrong—answer in the space on the sheet. “What's up?” I spin on my chair to look at her.

She's pale, except for pink blotches around her eyes.

“Are you crying?” I get up and walk to her, but she holds out her arms.

“Sit down, baby,” she whispers.

I want to tell her not to call me baby since I'm fifteen, but she looks so distraught, I don't care. “Mom, please tell me what's wrong. Is it Dad?”

She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut, then pulls the spare office chair in front of me and sits on it. “I need you to promise me you won't lose your temper when I tell you this, okay?”

“You're starting to scare me. Just tell me what's wrong.”

She opens her mouth several times before she closes it. “Carlo...” She takes a deep breath. “Adriana died this morning.”

I don't understand what she just said.

“No she didn't. We spoke just last night. We're getting a movie tonight.”

Mom shakes her head. “I'm sorry, Carlo. Darien took her and Alexandria to the store but they were in a crash. None of them survived.”

I stare at her.

It doesn't make sense.

I don't understand. She can't be dead. Adriana can't be. That's not how it works.

“No.”

Mom nods slowly, more tears spilling over her eyes onto her cheeks.

I shake my head, over and over. I don't know if I'm denying it or if I'm trying to remove the though from my head. Pretend I never heard her say it. Addy can't be dead. Not my Addy. She wouldn't leave me like that, I know it.

“Tell me it isn't true,” I whisper shakily. “Mom.” My voice cracks, my throat tightening. “Please. Tell me it isn't true. Tell me she's alive.”

She doesn't. She just cries. Cries. And cries. And cries.

My heart breaks in slow motion. Everything is ripped away from me in agonizing slowness. My future—our future. Our dreams. Our plans. Everything shatters irreparably, and with her, a piece of me dies.

I feel it break away from my soul. The part that she owned sinks out of me.

I can't cry. I can't move. I'm frozen, paralyzed by the knowledge that I'll never see her again. Never see her smile, hear her laugh... I'll never get flicked by her stupid long hair or prodded by her long, black nails. I'll never look into her bright blue eyes and learn what love is every time she blinks.

Nothing.

My world blurs.

Without her.

I have nothing.

***

I rubbed my eyes as I sat up in bed. It was the same dream, over and over, the day I found out she was dead. Of course now I know differently, but the thought that she'll choose Gaige one day has stirred up all that pain all over again.

I had to ignore it. She was mine to protect, but not mine to love. I knew that the moment she recognized me in her house. She never would be, but fuck, a part of me couldn't let it go. A part of me couldn't let go of the idea of having her for myself.

I needed her in a way he'd never understand. She silenced the demons that plagued me relentlessly. She made me want to be better, for her, although I knew I could never touch upon redemption for all the lives that had been destroyed by my actions.

Adriana Romano was my soul.

And Gaige Pontarelli would never understand what that felt like.

I swung my legs out of the bed and headed for the shower. I had no idea where he was, and I didn't care. We'd driven all night, switching out every few hours, and reached New York some time early this morning. We'd stopped to sleep on Gaige's demand, and now it was well past lunch and I was getting antsy.

I had no idea if Adriana was okay. His reassurances that Angelo would keep her safe didn't do much to assuage my worry, given that Angelo was the fucking reason she was in the Romano house.

I knew that place well.

She'd be the only dark in its dark existence. Nothing good lived in that house. Not even Angelo, even if his double act was to be believed.

And I didn't. Believe it. Didn't believe anything that came out of a Pontarelli. I was with Gaige for one reason, but now I was in New York, I could disappear and be in the Hamptons probably before he even realized I was gone.

I tied the towel around my waist as I finished showering and scrubbed my finger across my teeth. It figured that the toothbrushes we'd purchased before we left Vegas where in the bag Adriana had taken. That was always how it worked, wasn't it?

I dressed and then stared out of the window. I could see the Manhattan skyline in the distance, but I was perhaps one of the only people in the world not amazed by it. I'd seen it too many times to count... killed too many people in the dark alleyways that ran between the tall, majestic buildings.

Gave too few fucks about this whole damn state except for the girl in the Hamptons.

Three knocks sounded at my door, and I crossed the room to open it. Gaige stood there holding two cups of Starbucks, and I stared at them. He shoved one at me.

“Here,” he said.

“Er, thanks.” I took it and walked into the room. Being nice to him was... strange. “Have you spoken to Angelo?”

“Not much. She's okay. He's seen her twice—sometime in the middle of the night and again at lunchtime. He has to be careful so Enzio doesn't suspect he's helping her.” Gaige sat at the small table in the corner of the room.

“They're keeping her downstairs?”

“Downstairs?”

“Enzio turned the basements into holding cells. Nothing in there except for blankets. You don't even know there's a light unless you're told. The switch is by the ceiling and tiny.”

“Nice. He sounds like a right fucking party.”

“If the party is a funeral,” I muttered. “What's your plan for today?”