Page 11 of Hunter's Game
The confession hung in the air for a heartbeat. Then something inside of her exploded and Eden moved with blindingly fast precision, her gun leveling forward as Marcus reached for his own weapon.
Two shots rang out simultaneously.
Eden jerked backward, red blooming on her dress. But her shot had found its mark. She stared in stunned silence as Merrick went down hard, clutching his shoulder.
“Eden!” Hunter was already moving to catch her, but she waved him off.
“Graze.” Her voice was tight with pain but steady. “We need to—”
The rest of the ceiling chose that moment to come down.
***
Hunter grabbed her, shielding Eden’s body with his as debris rained around them. Through the dust and chaos, he caught glimpses of movement—more guards converging on their position.
“Time to go.” He helped her up, noting how she favored her left side. “Unless you’ve got more family drama planned?”
Her laugh held no humor as she hobbled over to a nearby wall and retrieved a hard drive from a hidden panel. “Trust me, this is just the beginning.”
They ran, leaving Merrick Mitchell bleeding but alive among the wreckage of his precious collection. Eden’s shot had been precise—designed to wound, not kill.
Hunter wasn’t sure if that made her more or less dangerous.
They emerged into pre-dawn darkness to find the compound in chaos. Multiple fires burned, alarms blared, and gunfire echoed from various directions.
“Now what?” Hunter kept them moving, heading for the vehicle he’d stashed nearby. “Your father’s men will be looking for us. And I’m guessing your DEA backup isn’t coming?”
“No backup.” Eden’s smile was sharp despite her injury. “Just us.”
“Against an entire MC and whatever other forces your father can call in?” Hunter’s mind raced ahead, already planning routes and strategies. “I like those odds.”
“Liar.” But she was smiling for real now, the expression transforming her face despite the blood and grime. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
They reached his bike just as more explosions lit up the compound. Eden settled behind him without hesitation, her arms wrapping around his waist with familiar intimacy.
“Ready?” He kicked the engine to life, feeling her press closer.
“Born ready.” Her breath was warm against his ear. “Though we still need to talk about who you really are.”
“Later.” He gunned the engine as more vehicles appeared at the compound entrance. “Assuming we survive.”
Her laugh vibrated through him. “Survival’s overrated. But answers...those are worth dying for.”
Hunter hit the gas and they roared away into the darkness. Behind them, Eden’s father’s empire burned. Ahead lay uncertainty and the growing knowledge that whatever was building between them would either save them or destroy them completely.
And through it all, the truth about Eden’s mother’s death hung between them like a loaded gun—ready to either bond them together or tear them apart.
Only time would tell which.
Assuming they lived long enough to find out.
Trust is like a loaded gun—deadly in the wrong hands, lifesaving in the right ones. Eden watched Hunter through her scope as he secured the perimeter of their temporary shelter, his movements carrying that deadly grace that had first caught her attention at the Devil’s Mark. Two hours after the museum shootout, and they were still feeling out the boundaries of their unexpected alliance.
“Clear on the east side.” His voice carried quietly through her earpiece. “Though we’ve got company coming. Three vehicles, moving like professionals.”
“Thompson’s people?” She tracked the approaching headlights through her rifle’s optics.
“Negative. Formation’s wrong for federal agents. These are private contractors.”
