Page 58 of Pretty Little Trigger
CHAPTER 57
Alana
I’m bent over my dining room table .
The contents of my Chanel bag lie scattered across the surface.
My cheek is pressed against the cool wood, my dress bunched around my waist. Hunter’s gun lies on the table too, no longer tucked into his pants.
His belt is wrapped around his fist, his other hand pressed firm against the small of my back, holding me in place.
The consequences of disobeying him at the restaurant.
But you know what? I’m not complaining.
Not even a little.
“Still think you can tease me and get away with it?” he growls into my neck, his voice dark and delicious.
Another slap. Another moan.
I’m dizzy with the mix of pain and pleasure.
My knees weak. My thoughts are liquid.
I’m just about to protest, just about to beg, when my phone starts ringing on the table.
Hunter pauses. We both look at the screen.
It’s my dad.
He leans down, lips brushing my ear, voice a quiet, wicked whisper: “Looks like Daddy just saved his little princess.”
And everything in me stops.
The fog lifts. My body stills.
My hand freezes on the screen.
That voice. That exact phrase.
I know it. I’ve heard it.
Not here. Not now. Then.
The dark. The cold floor.
The blindfold. The panic.
And a voice, his voice, saying those exact words while I cried and begged and broke.
He was there. Hunter.
Hunter was there.
Everything feels wrong.
My chest tightens. My pulse spikes.
But I’m stronger now.
I will not break. I wear my scars like armour.
And I gear up for war.
I don’t answer the phone.
I let it ring. I pull my dress down.
I pick up Hunter’s gun.
He’s busy stroking Salem, who’s perched on the kitchen counter like a smug little prince.
Hunter’s back is to me.
He’s relaxed, but I know better.
He’s never truly off guard.
I walk up behind him.
He turns around slowly, like he senses something shift in me.
“What game are we playing now, Little Diamond?”
I raise the gun slowly, pointing it at him.
With a flick of my thumb, I click off the safety.
“Say that again,” I whisper.
“What?” he looks confused.
“What you just said. Say it again.”
He frowns.
“I—Alana—” And I see the shift in his face the moment he realises what his mistake was.
My breathing turns ragged.
But I remain focussed, controlled.
My mind is screaming.
He goes still. He looks afraid of me.
Good. He should be.
“Alana,” he says carefully, voice low.
“What are you doing?”
“You were there,” I whisper.
“You were fucking there.”
He blinks.
Hard. Like he wasn’t expecting it to click.
Like he wasn’t ready for me to remember.
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” I say, gun steady in my hand.
“I heard your voice whisper that exact phrase in my ear. I remember now.”
It all makes sense now.
The untouched car. The way it smelled like him.
How he knew where my phone was.
How he always moved too fast when something went wrong.
Too smooth. Too steady.
Too prepared. Small things click into place.
I thought I was falling.
But he’d already caught me.
Caged me. And God, I let him.
“I did everything I could to keep you safe—” he says, hands lifting, like I’m something unstable.
“Don’t. Don’t try to twist it.”
My chest is heaving.
My heart is breaking.
The man I let in. The man I touched.
Kissed. Loved. He doesn’t exist. Maybe he never did.
Maybe he was always a lie.
“You were one of them.”
“Alana, please let me explain…” he moves towards me and I fire a warning shot onto the floor.
He stumbles back.
“Get the fuck out of my house. I don’t want to see you again. Ever. I don’t care what you have to say. Get out .”
I’m shaking.
Tears streak my vision, but I remain strong.
He turns to leave.
“Wait,” I say.
He turns around, hope flaring in those blue eyes.
“Fuck, Little Diamond, I'll do anything. Please. Just give me another chance.”
“What’s your real name?”
His whole face falls. “Alana. Please.”
“What. Is. Your. Name?” I ask. He sighs. Defeated.
“Kaden,” he says. And he turns to leave. Not even waiting for my response.