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Chapter twenty-three

Bloxwich Police Station, London

Hunter

“This is what you call improving your public image?” Harrison snarls as soon as we sit in his car. “Being caught fucking in an ice-skating rink changing room. For fuck’s sake, Hunter.”

The door has barely closed as I climb into the back seat with Isabella when his tirade begins. Damon sits on the passenger side, silent.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Harrison continues to rant, and a whole load of expletives roll off his tongue. I knew he was pissed when he walked into the interview room, but I wasn’t expecting quite the berating I’m receiving. He should know me by now. What’s his fucking problem?

“I don’t believe it was the cells in his brain that were activated,” Damon pipes up. Even turned away from me, I know he’s smirking to himself about his joke.

Ignoring them both, I shuffle across the back seat, leaning over Isabella who is sitting still, quietly listening to the men in front. I pull her belt across, sliding my hand under the strap so it lays flat over her chest. The buckle clips into place with a click, and I drop a kiss on her cheek. A small moan escapes her lips, and I know she is still as turned on as I am, even though the events of the past few hours have been somewhat nerve racking.

“Put your fucking seat belt on,” Harrison says, turning in his seat to look at me. He looks just as pissed off as he did when he arrived to argue why we shouldn’t be charged with public indecency. Luckily, between his understanding of the law and my bank balance, we were able to come to an arrangement with the police officers on staff.

“Patience, Waite,” I tell him. “I’ve always been told since I was a boy that I should ensure the safety of those closest to me first. I am securing my wife in her seat.”

“She’s a fully grown adult.” Harrison’s focus moves to Isabella, his eyes run from the top of her head down her body and back up. She squirms uncomfortably under his stare. It’s as if she wants the world to open and eat her whole. I squeeze her hand in solidarity as I get myself sorted.

“That’s enough,” I warn him, his prissy attitude beginning to grate. Harrison can always be a little icy, especially when his plans are interrupted by something I’ve done, but never to this extent. He is uncharacteristically being a dickwad.

“A fucking changing room,” he mutters to Isabella, rolling his eyes. “Have some class.”

That’s when my resolve snaps, his direct insult toward my wife igniting a fire I never knew was there. All I can describe as intense burning fury engulfs my body, and I’m out of seat with my knife across his throat before he’s turned back to face the wheel. Damon straightens but doesn’t make any sudden movements; he sits waiting for someone to make the next move.

“Friend or not,” I growl in Harrison’s ear. “No one disrespects my wife without consequence.”

My knife tip sits at one ear, my arm hooked around his head from behind. Harrison goes tense in my arms, pushing the back of his head against the headrest. No one in the car breathes. The men know that when I’m pissed, I can be unpredictable. It’s a personality trait I am always sure to accentuate. People are wary of you if you are either mad or bad. I try to convey both.

Eventually, Isabella’s hand on my arm refocuses my attention. Her fingers squeeze my forearm, gentle at first then with increased pressure as I leave the blade in position. Her touch has an unexpectedly calming effect.

“Hunter,” she says, softly. “It’s okay. He didn’t mean…”

“Yes, he fucking did, and I’ll not have it. He was being an asshole, as if him and his wife have never been in any compromising positions. As if he’s fucking perfect.” The definitive sound of Ireland getting stronger, along with my temper.

“Violet and I have never been trying to improve our reputation,” Harrison spits, clearly as furious at this situation as I am. “Yet again, I’m called out to sort out your shit show. Perhaps I’m fed up with cleaning up your messes.”

“That’s what I pay you for,” I remind him.

Isabella, once again, squeezes my arm then tugs. She unclips her seatbelt, sliding over the leather so our thighs touch. Pushing herself forward, she reaches between the chairs until her fingers lay over mine on the knife handle. They wrap around them and encourage me to move the weapon away from my friend. I am highly aware that due to her position she is now lodged between two men she doesn’t know, attempting to stop me killing someone I care about in a police station parking lot.

“Hunter,” she says, again, this time in a pleading tone. “This isn’t a necessary or a healthy reaction. If you can’t control your temper, we can’t…”

“We can’t what?” Immediately, my body reverts to fight mode when I think she is trying to corner me. She doesn’t back down, her hand remaining on mine, never wavering. A glance at her tells me all I need to know; her inner strength is mesmerizing. Her dark eyes stare back challenging. She won’t back down. “I don’t respond well to threats, Bella.”

“It isn’t a threat; it’s a promise. If you can’t control your temper, we will not be continuing with any of this nonsense. I’ll walk away, Hunter, whether you approve our divorce or not. I can live without you.”

Her words are like a punch to my gut, but I know they’re true. She’s lived without me all these years and created the best life she can. Whereas I have hidden in the shadows and behind a blade in attempt to feel something other than desolation.

I relax my hand, allowing the blade to drop away. Isabella releases me and sits back in her seat, exhaling as she does so. As I bring my arm back around the seat, I flick the knife, nicking Harrison briefly on the side of his neck. His hand shoots up to cover the small cut as I settle myself back down and refasten my belt. Well, there had to be some sort of justice for his actions. No one gets away with zero punishment.

“Ouch,” he hisses, gesturing to Damon to open the glove box. He reaches over and pulls out some tissues. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Being a dick,” I tell him, and Damon laughs. Harrison folds tissues into a large square then stuffs them in the collar of his shirt. Redness begins to spread over the white within moments. Damon passes him a few more.

“You’re not the only person who has had a complicated day,” Harrison mumbles cryptically. He starts the car and pulls out of the space, then immediately stops the car again and turns around. He takes a breath. “I’m sorry, Isabella. My behavior was uncalled for. We had a difficult morning. My wife had a scare, and we had to go to the hospital to ensure the baby was alright.”

“Are they okay?” Isabella immediately asks, her uncertainty softening to concern. She leans forward a little, eyes wide. Guilt bubbles in my stomach as I realize my friend had his own worries today. Perhaps my off-the-cuff reactions don’t always allow for enough thought.

“Yes, they are fine. But Violet has been told to take things easy. There was some bleeding, and they don’t know why.” His words tumble out in a jumble. Damon reaches for our friend, squeezing his shoulder in comfort. “But I shouldn’t have taken my fear out on you. I apologize.”

“No need,” Isabella tells him with an understanding smile. “A child is the most precious thing.” Her eyes flick to me, then back to him. He returns her smile genuinely. “I hope your wife isn’t too worried.”

“Violet is fine. She is…” He pauses, looking for the right word. “She’s a warrior, and I love her for it.”

As Harrison turns back around and restarts our journey for the third time, I consider the short dialogue he had with my wife. There is so much I agree with that I never thought I would. Someone or something threatening the woman you love is enough to make you feral. The idea of my child not surviving would drive me insane. And for once in my life, I understand the crazy reaction of a terrified man. He lashed out because he was hurting, and in him, in that moment, I almost saw myself.

We arrive back at the Level, parking beneath the building and using the private elevator that takes us directly up into the boardroom. When the doors open, we’re hit with nothing but chatter and noise. The room is buzzing with people—everyone is here.

Harrison makes a beeline for Violet. She’s sitting on one of the chairs nursing a glass of water. One look at her tells me she isn’t as well as Harrison suggested she was. Her skin is pale, her eyes half glazed over. Emma and Samantha sit beside her, sipping their own drinks which look more like wine. The three women chat amongst themselves as two toddlers crawl around the floor. It gives the impression of a mothers and babies meet-up.

As we step out of the elevator, Annie immediately spots her father and waddles over to him, arms outstretched. Bella flashes me a cheeky smile as she watches on, unspoken words bouncing between us. Damon picks his daughter up, spinning her around. Small grubby fingers grab his face, digging into his skin. He looks so damn happy, I’m almost jealous.

Next it is Harrison’s turn to get the honor of his daughter’s welcome. This time, Evie grabs his leg, pulling at his clothing. He is standing behind Violet with his hands on her shoulders, and he leans down and picks up his daughter who giggles happily at getting her own way.

Russell and Connor are in the far corner of the room, having what seems to be a hushed discussion. Samantha glances over every so often as if keeping tabs on whether they’re getting along or not. When either man catches her eye, they smile at her, an automatic response to the attention being bestowed upon them by the woman they love. It crosses my mind to wonder what will happen if they ever have children. Who will be the father? Will they even know? The riddle is enough to make my brain ache.

Isabella clutches my hand as if I am leading her into the depths of hell. As I look around the room, I realize this must be overwhelming for her. The people in this room are like my extended family, and I love each and every one of them. This is a part of my life she has no knowledge of, other than the few interactions she has had with my friends these past weeks.

Emma catches sight of Bella and immediately jumps out of her chair, almost sprinting across the boardroom. She pulls her into a bear hug. My wife freezes, taken aback by her open affection. Sure, Emma helped her escape from our little underground fight, but the women haven’t spent any time together since. And most of the time they did spend was hiding from law enforcement.

“It’s so good to see you,” Emma gushes, completely ignoring my existence. “Come sit with us.” She takes Bella’s hand and leads her over to the group of girls at the table. Samantha is next to greet her with a wide smile and kiss on her cheek. Bella visibly relaxes before my eyes as the women make her feel welcome.

Finally, Violet rises. She is nothing like her usual bubbly self, but she embraces Bella like a long-lost friend. The hug lasts for what seems like forever, though it’s probably only seconds.

“Thank you,” Isabella stammers, looking overwhelmed. Tears fill her eyes as her palms lay on her chest, trying to contain her emotions.

“For what?” Samantha asks, her nose scrunching slightly in confusion. Samantha and I have had our disagreements, but she’s strong and honest, which are qualities I admire.

“For welcoming me.”

The three women all reach for her, creating a knot of hands between the four of them. Their fingers all interlink as if they have been a small group for years. The unfamiliarity of Bella with the others melts away. I watch in awe as they welcome her with open arms into the group

“Bella, you’re one of us,” Violet says. “And we all stick together. We have to, being involved with them.” She signals to her husband, who is now letting his daughter ride him like a pony. He scrapes his outrageously expensive suit over the floor with the biggest smile on his face as Evie giggles in delight.

Damon steps up beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder. I glance at him then back to the girls.

“She’s going to be fine,” he says, his voice low so no one else can here. “Make sure you don’t fuck it up.”

With that, we all take our seat at the table and begin to discuss the issues we are all facing. I asked Harrison to arrange this meeting. I wanted everyone in the same room so I could lay all of the dangers we are about to face on the table. As I’ve learned all too well, when you annoy the enemy, too often they take out your failures on the people you love. Here in this room is everyone who matters to me, and it is up to me to keep them safe. To do that, they need to know what’s going on.