Page 89 of Three
“He was an assassin, but he also liked to kill his victims’ loved ones in front of them before taking their lives. He was a heartless motherfucker, and he deserved every single thing I inflicted on him.”
“You tortured him?” He sounds surprised, but not repulsed. I knew he wouldn’t be after what he went through. But that doesn’t mean he’ll accept this. Me. His heart is racing now.
I need to explain more. “I look for people like him, shitheads. I gather the evidence since I have a code to follow, and being sure the donors are guilty is essential.”
“Donors?”
“My foster brothers, Sari and Michael, they take samples from the shitheads and use them for medical research, or if they’re a match for transplants or transfusions. It’s kind of fulfilling to think that after all the suffering they instigated, they can do one good thing before leaving this earth.”
I’m playing with his shirt collar when he asks, “You do this with your foster brothers?”
I nod. “I didn’t know there were others. All those years, the scientists kept us separated, each one in his own cage, enduring pain alone. Our foster mothers brought us together. We are all broken in one way or another. Our reasons for starting this family side business aredifferent. For me, sex, fighting, and torturing are the only ways to feel.”
“Not anymore, Red,” Hunter reminds me, his big hands squeezing my hips under my shirt. I can feel each finger sinking into my skin, the pressure, the warmth, the hardness. “And you aren’t broken. Everybody has baggage. People make bad choices, but the good ones try to make it right later on. It’s astonishing how, in your case, the wrong was done to you, and you still found a wayto make it right.”
“I have to. It’s my purpose. To help Madam Justice balance her scale,” I tell him. I want him to understand that I won’t stop. “What you did to your cousin? We’ve been doing it for years.”
“I did things in prison as well.” His jaw ticks, he turned tense under me, and his hold on me is bruising tight now.
“You had to do what you had to do,” I try to reassure him, caressing his pecs with circular movements.
“A Black ex-cop, a priest killer, and one of the biggest motherfuckers in the joint. First rule of being new in prison: find the biggest guy in there and make him your bitch. I was the most hated. The first years were a daily fight.”
I believe him. I’ve seen the scars covering his body—I have some as well. And hearing the reason for their existence from his lips compels my already obsessive protectiveness to wrap around him even tighter.
“I know.” I look him straight in the eyes.
He grunts. “Of course, you and Serena do. Do you also know that I have no regrets over killing them?”
“Why would you? What did they do to you?” A feeling of dread climbs up my spine.
“Don’t you know already?” He sighs.
“Prison guard reports are not very detailed.” And the cameras’ hard drive in his prison keeps footage only for one year, then everything gets deleted—which is preposterous if you ask me.
“They don’t care much what inmates do to each other, especially if they get bribed.”Motherfuckers!
“I know you must have had a good reason. You have a strong moral code, Hunter Penn. It might be more gray than what society expects, but mine is bordering black compared to yours.” I give his lips a light peck.
“One tried to kill me. The other two to rape me.” Every word of that sentence turns my stomach upside down. A sense of nausea fills my chest, but he keeps talking, and I can breathe again. “I didn’t like ending their lives, I was simply in survival mode.”
It’s kill or be killed. Just like with the mercenary and guard at the gun warehouse.
“I’d have thoroughly enjoyed their deaths. Nobody tries to hurt what’s mine and continues living,” I whisper. Mine. He is mine.
His eyebrow shoots up.
“Your cousin would’ve been high on my donor list if he were still alive. Fuck. I would’ve killed him myself if…”
“I know.” A shadow of a smile appears on his lips. “Do your mothers know about your…family business?”
“Side business, we all have day jobs. Yes, they know. They help us out sometimes. They know we need to do this. They understand. Well, Linda actually enjoys it. She’s an ex-secret agent; what we do isn’t so different from what she’s used to.”
“Wow.”
“So you’re okay with me? With what I do?” I stop him before he can utter a word. “I don’t know why I asked, since it doesn’t really matter.”
He frowns. “It doesn’t?”
