Page 3 of Hunter's Game
King’s warning echoed in his head: “Don’t trust anyone in that clubhouse. This operation is too important for complications.”
But watching Eden work both the crowd and her tech, noting how her systems kept pinging Romano’s encrypted communications, Hunter knew it was already too late for warnings. She was the key to this whole operation. And God help him, he was already imagining all the ways this could end with one or both of them dead.
The night stretched ahead, full of shadows and secrets and the promise of violence. Through it all, Hunter watched Eden move through her carefully constructed world, seeing past the masks she wore to the wounded warrior beneath. Every detail built a more complex picture—the way she flinched almost imperceptibly when Merrick touched her shoulder, how her hands shook slightly whenever Romano’s phone pinged with certain encrypted messages, the fierce determination that burned behind her careful smiles.
She was dangerous. Complicated. Absolutely lethal when crossed.
And she was hiding something bigger than just a federal investigation.
Around them, the club’s normal operations continued—patches drinking and fighting, prospects running errands, private meetings in back rooms where real business happened. But Hunter’s attention kept returning to Eden, watching her play her role to perfection whilegathering intelligence that could destroy everything her father had built.
The question was why.
Federal agents didn’t develop that kind of technical skill or maintain that level of cover without serious motivation. This wasn’t just about bringing down a criminal organization. This was personal vendetta wrapped in professional duty. The kind of mission that either ended in triumph or tragedy.
Usually both.
As dawn approached, Hunter watched Eden make one final sweep of the bar, her movements precise despite hours of maintaining her cover. She caught him watching and offered that razor-sharp smile that made his blood heat.
King was right. This operation was too important for complications. But something in Eden’s eyes, in the careful way she moved through this world of violence and secrets, told him she might be the key to everything.
Or she might be the death of him.
Either way, he was already in too deep to walk away.
The sun rose over the Devil’s Mark clubhouse, painting the world in shades of blood and promise. Whatever game Eden was playing, whatever secrets she was hiding, Hunter knew one thing with bone-deep certainty: This was just the beginning.
And it was going to end in either triumph or tragedy.
Probably both.
Just another Tuesday in the life of a Blind Jack. Only this time, the most dangerous element wasn’t the guns or the rival MC or even the international art theft ring he was trying to bust.
It was the woman behind the bar with death in her smile and secrets in her code. The woman who could either make his mission or destroy it completely.
And the most dangerous part? He wasn’t sure which outcome he was hoping for anymore.
The thing about blood is that it remembers. Three months into her undercover operation at Devil’s Mark MC, Eden’s hands still shook whenever her father touched her shoulder—muscle memory from years of living under Merrick Mitchell’s particular brand of paternal control. She forced herself to stay still as he examined the new security system she’d installed, his fingers drumming against her shoulder blade in that familiar pattern that had once meant pain was coming.
“Impressive work, baby girl.” His approval still had the power to make her feel six years old again, desperate for daddy’s love. “The digital integration with physical security is exactly what we needed.”
“Just trying to modernize our operations.” Eden kept her voice steady as she demonstrated the system’s capabilities. Through carefully hidden cameras, she watched Romano’s latest shipment being unloaded in the loading bay. “The automated alerts will give us better coverage with fewer prospects on watch duty.”
“Always thinking ahead.” Merrick’s smile carried real pride as he studied the security feeds. “Just like your mother.”
The comparison hit like a physical blow. Eden focused on her screens, letting her hair fall forward to hide her expression. “I wouldn’t know. She left before I was old enough to remember much.”
The lie tasted like ash. She remembered everything about Sarah Mitchell—her fierce intelligence, her careful lessons about survival, the way she’d tried to shield Eden from the worst of Merrick’s violence. She remembered the night she disappeared too, leaving teenage Eden alone with a father whose idea of love left bruises.
“Sarah had potential.” Merrick’s voice carried old bitterness. “Could have been part of something bigger. Instead, she chose to run. Abandoned her family, her responsibilities...”
“Her daughter?” The words slipped out before Eden could stop them.
Merrick’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “Family is everything, baby girl. Remember that. Family ties are stronger than fear. Until they’re not.”
Or love, Eden thought but didn’t give voice to. She’d learned that lesson well over the years.
“Speaking of family business.” Merrick nodded toward one of the security feeds showing Romano’s latest delivery. “That art restoration project needs special attention. Make sure the cameras in section three have some convenient blind spots tonight.”
