Page 54 of Hunted (Desert Island Duet #2)

Chapter thirty-four

Darla

“ O w,” I groan as I try to roll to my side, but it feels like an anvil is sitting on top of me. Keeping my eyes shut tight, I reach up and try to feel what’s restricting me, but there is nothing there. And when my fingers touch my upper abdomen, I groan in pain.

Someone grabs my hand and lifts it up, away from my body. Then warm lips touch my fingers.

“Baby, are you awake?”

“Weston?” I mumble, turning my head in the direction of his voice as I slowly blink my eyes open. Why do I feel like crap? Did I drink again?

“Yeah, I’m here. Let me see those beautiful green eyes, baby.” I manage to pry my eyes open to see his worried hazel ones looking down at me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, immediately going on alert as my eyes scan my surroundings. But I quickly realize this isn’t our house. I try to sit up quickly but end up hissing at the pain in my chest as I flop back down.

“Stay still, you’re gonna be a bit sore for a while. Luckily, you’re just bruised, nothing’s broken,” Kingsley says. I turn to see him and Bower on the other side of what is obviously a hospital bed .

“What happened?” I ask, trying to think what the last thing I remember was.

Kingsley’s eyes bounce up to the other side of the room, but none of them say anything. I lift my head to see what he’s looking at and see Reece sitting in the corner, his elbows leaning on his knees and his head dropped forward, his hair looking messier than I’ve ever seen it.

I instantly go on alert. Something really bad must have happened for him to look that upset.

“Reece?” I ask, and he lifts his head, his glossy eyes meeting mine. “What happened? Why are you so upset?”

He doesn’t say anything, and my hands start to shake. All four of them are here, and they look okay, but that doesn’t mean someone else didn't get hurt.

“Reece?” I press again.

“Get your ass over here, you’re freaking her out!” Bower yells, standing and moving to Reece as if he means to physically drag him over to me himself. But Reece quickly stands, moving to my side as Weston makes room for him.

He stares down at me with worry in his eyes, so I pat the bed beside me. “Sit,” I tell him, and he does. When he doesn't speak, I ask, “Did someone get hurt?”

He nods slowly and I ask, “Who?”

“You did, Darla.” His eyes move down to the middle of my torso, where the pain seems to be coming from.

“But I’ll be okay, won’t I?” Bower said it was just a bruise, didn’t he? My eyes dart to Weston over Reece’s shoulder, and he gives me a small smile and nod, easing some of my tension.

“Yes, you’re going to be fine,” Reece finally answers .

“Reece, you’re killing me here, spit it out. Why are you so much more upset than the others?”

“Because it’s my fault.” I frown at him in confusion.

“Uh… Reece? I might not remember what happened, but I know you would never hurt me,” I say with confidence, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight.

When Reece doesn’t respond, Weston lets out an annoyed breath. “He was arguing with his dad when you walked in, and Richard shot you.”

My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Your dad shot me?”

He nods. “Turns out, he was behind everything. He hired Frank and the mercenaries. He even single-handedly has sold off all the legitimate parts of The Danver’s Group and turned it into a front for human trafficking.”

A gasp escapes me, unable to be held back at that startling revelation. “My family's company? It’s… gone?”

“I’m so sorry, I should have been paying more attention.”

“Didn’t you say you read the company reports?” I ask in confusion.

“I did. They were all fake.”

“That… that… Crab sucker! Has he been arrested? Is it over?” I ask hopefully.

“Richard is in custody. West shot him in the shoulder, so they brought him to the hospital to be patched up. As soon as the doctors confirmed it wasn’t life threatening, they moved him to the jail to await trial,” Bower tells me.

“Weston, you shot him?” I say with wide eyes. “I didn’t even know you had a gun.”

“I picked it up after the bomb, I didn't want to leave your safety in the hands of other people anymore. ”

“He saved Reece. His dad was going to stab him in the back when West shot him,” Kingsley tells me, filling in what I had missed while unconscious.

“Thank you,” I whisper, reaching out to squeeze Weston’s hand. I turn to Reece and reach for him as well. “Both of you.”

I glance around and see they all still look worried.

“If he’s in jail, and none of you have been arrested, why don’t you guys look happier?”

“Because Richard isn’t the only person we need to worry about,” Weston grumbles.

My eyes widen in fear as Reece narrows his eyes at him over his shoulder, as if they’ve had this conversation before. “I said it’s not a good idea.”

“We’d be safe.”

“If it got linked back to us—”

“It won’t,” Weston states with full confidence.

“What are you two talking about?” They both turn to me, their lips pressed tight together, refusing to speak. “You can’t talk like that in front of me and then not tell me what you’re arguing about. Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Tell her,” Bower says, and I give him a thankful smile before turning back to the other two. “She can handle it. It’s not like she hasn’t killed someone herself.”

“Bower!” Reece hisses angrily, his eyes bouncing around as if someone might have overheard.

“He’s right, you can tell me, I won’t freak out, I promise.” I squeeze Reece’s hand in hopes of him agreeing .

His eyes bounce between mine as he works his jaw back and forth until he finally comes to a decision, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Fine, you tell her, West.”

I look at Weston as he moves closer, sitting in the chair close to my head so he can lower his voice to a whisper. “There are people that take care of things like this.” My eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Hitmen,” he clarifies as my eyes widen in surprise.

“You want to hire mercenaries?” I whisper in surprise.

He nods once. “They’re not like the mercenaries Richard hired. This is a secret organization that helps to get rid of people that are… shall we say, a stain on the world? People who the cops can’t catch or don’t have enough usable evidence to arrest.”

“And they just go on what other people tell them?”

“Yes and no. If they are given a name, they look into them and do their own research. If they don’t like what they see, they become judge and executioner.”

“Sweet baby killer! That’s… crazy! How do you even know about them, if they’re a secret?”

“I talked to my brother today, and he said he heard about them, but only knew the organization's name. I gave it to King, and he used his techy brain to find a contact within an hour. All we have to do is make the call.”

Kingsley looks at me as he adds, “As long as Frank and the mercenaries that were hired by Richard are still out there, you’re in danger. It’s not over until they are either all dead or behind bars.”

I look at Reece, and I can tell he doesn’t like the idea. “You don’t want to be responsible for killing people, I get that. ”

“No, that’s not it,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t want any of us to get in trouble for this. I don’t want their deaths to send any of us to prison.”

“It won’t,” Weston argues. These guys are professionals. Most of the time, a body is never even found, unless they need it to be.” I wrinkle my nose at that, not wanting to know what they do with the bodies.

“Reece,” Kingsley says, grabbing his attention. “Do you really want Frank, and who knows how many mercenaries out there somewhere? Ready to strike at any moment?”

“Reece, I think we should do it.”

He stares into my eyes, and I try to give him my best pleading look, which seems to work because finally, he nods. “Okay.”

“West?” He turns to him with a grim look of determination on his face. “Call The Undertakers.”