Chapter 2 The Hunter

                                                                                            Chapter 2

The Hunter

It’s not very often that people surprise me.

I expect the worst from everyone, even myself. Especially myself.

But when that voice registers through the fog of agony clouding my

head, all I can feel is astonishment and the cold press of metal in the back of

my skull.

“Glad you could figure that out, Jason Scott. Now let’s see those hands,

otherwise, this single bullet will find its way in both of your fucking heads.”

The exact feeling is reflected on Jay’s face as his features slacken and

eyes widen, his voice saturated with utter bewilderment as he mouths,

“You?”

“Yes. Me.”

Mother… fucker.

My mind races, circulating through each encounter with her and trying to

figure out how the fuck I missed this—missed her being a wolf in sheep’s

clothing.

She played her part pretty fucking well.

“This really hurts my feelings, you know,” I say through clenched teeth,

the muscle in my jaw pulsating.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’ll get over it?”

A man’s tortured scream rings out from someplace to my left, the heavy

smoke concealing him.

A bomb went off somewhere, blasting me back into the stone altar they

used for their sacrificial rituals. I’ve no idea what the fuck kind of damage I

took, but if the increasing pain in my entire body is anything to go by, I

need to get to a hospital.

And I don’t need a fucking fortune teller to inform me that getting help

is not in my near future.

The man-made underground cave we’re in is still swarmed with chaos,

wails of agony and terror bouncing off the stone walls, worsening the

pounding in my skull.

This hellhole is where the Society sacrifices children. Some type of

initiation in order to be welcomed into a club that provides them with an

ample number of innocents to rape and murder.

Leaked videos surfaced on the dark web, the first one being nine months

ago. Since then, I have worked day and night to get into this ritual.

And I finally did.

But evidently, the Society saw me coming and planned for my arrival.

Dan—the man who got me in—had mentioned they caught the culprit

who was leaking the videos.

I was too distracted to realize the trap when another video popped up on

the web afterward. A video that was intentionally uploaded, knowing that

I’d see it and find my way into the club. They were drawing me in so they

could take me out.

“You cost me a little girl, Z,” the bitch says from behind me.

“Sounds like you knew that was a risk,” I counter, a tad breathless. It

hurts to even fucking breathe, and the pain is growing by the second.

The little girl who was offered up to me and three other men on the altar

had been taken out of here, hopefully before the explosion. I entrusted her

safety with one of my men, Michael, and I haven’t heard from him yet.

“Both of you—up. You’re coming with me.”

“I may be a tad fucked up at the moment, but don’t expect me not to kill

you the first chance I get,” I warn, nearly groaning when my back spasms.

Fuck me, more than anything, I wish this shit were like in the movies where

getting blasted by a bomb and proceeding to save the world directly after

was possible.

“You’re not going to do that, Z. You want to know why?”

I freeze, a sinking feeling already forming in the pit of my stomach. It’s

like the mouth of Jaws just opened up, and my heart is the unsuspecting

swimmer about to get swallowed whole. She better not say what the fuck I

think she’s going to say, or I’m going to lose my shit.

My voice is deadly calm as I say, “I swear to everything that is holy, I

will destroy you if you touched my girl.”

Her answering silence speaks volumes, and everything goes black. My

vision snuffs out, and a tsunami of rage crashes through me. I clench my

fists, fighting to regain control of myself.

“Zade.”

Urgency gnashes at my patience, screaming at me to get up and find my

little mouse. I need to get to her now before they take her too far.

“Zade.”

Who knows how far they’ve taken her already? How badly they’ve hurt

her.

My body locks tight from the thought, images flashing through my head

of what they could be doing to her. If they touch her…

“Fuck, ZADE! Look at me, man.”

Jay’s voice finally registers, but I can’t see him. I can’t see anything.

The gun is pressed harder into my head as a warning. I don’t remember

moving, but I’m on my knees now, my spine straight as I stare ahead.

Seeing nothing but a vision of ripping this bitch’s body apart, limb by limb,

with my fucking teeth.

“Stay down,” she hisses from behind me.

“Let me… fuck, he’s going to do something stupid,” Jay rushes out,

voice pitched in panic. Pain explodes on the side of my head from a fist

flying into my temple. My sight comes rushing back in, my right-hand

man’s face appearing, his hazel eyes inches away.

“Get it fucking together,” he barks through gritted teeth. The vein on his

temple pulsates, sweat pouring down his red face.

My hand is wrapped around the barrel that’s firmly digging into my

head, seconds away from pulling it from her grip.

“Let it go,” Jay orders sharply. “You’re lucky you don’t have a goddamn

bullet in your head right now. You can’t kill her yet.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she spits, nudging the gun. Setting my jaw, I

release it and rest my hands on my knees. My muscles are vibrating so hard

—so fast; my body appears to be still. But I can feel every tremor as she

continues, “You may think you’re powerful, but whatever scraps of power

you have are insignificant to mine. I can make you disappear, and no one

will ever have known you existed at all.”

I snarl, on the precipice of demonstrating just how wrong she is, but

keep my teeth glued together for the time being. Jay’s right. She’s holding a

gun to the back of my head and can end my life in a matter of seconds. A

bullet is faster than me, and I have no doubt she would make good on her

threat and kill Jay next.

Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and bring myself to a scary place I’ve

rarely had to go in my lifetime. Numbness spreads, and tranquility replaces

the white-hot rage. My mind goes silent, and when I reopen my eyes, Jay’s

spine snaps straight.

Whatever he sees unnerves him.

I need to get out of this situation in order to find Addie. Only then, will I

be more than happy to show this cunt exactly what I’m capable of. This

world will fucking smolder, and I will hold her face in the fire and watch

her melt in my wrath.

“Did you take her?” I ask. I know she did, but I need to hear the

confirmation from her mouth anyway.

I feel her hot breath fan across my ear, followed by her soft, mocking

voice. “I did. I took her, and I’m going to sell her only to the ones with the

sickest desires. And you can’t do a thing about it.”

One thing I’ve grown to loathe since forming Z—I have an incredibly

vivid imagination. In this field of work, it’s a curse. Every time I see a new

video posted on the dark web or get intel on a new ring—the first thoughts

that come to mind are all the depraved, sick things being done to these

women and children.

My own mind tortures me with those images. And later, I’ll be plagued

by them, except it’ll be my girl they’re hurting.

But now? I’m fucking glad for it.

Because at this very moment, I am enjoying all of the ways I’m

envisioning how I will kill Claire Seinburg.

“So,” I start, grunting when a particularly painful twinge flares in my

back. “Mark was never your abuser, was he?”

She titters. “Oh, he was. He just didn’t know what it meant for him every

time he laid his hands on me. Idiot never did figure out I was the one

pulling all the strings. He was too stupid.”

She circles Jay and me, the gun still pointed at my head while her red

lips pull into a snarl. The color staining her mouth rivals her hair. Such a

bright red that curls around her face and robed shoulders. During the ritual,

she was the mystery person in the hood, offering me a knife that she knew

damn well I would never use on that little girl. Instead, it went into

another’s throat.

“That’s the best thing about the male species. You all are so far up your

own asses, you never thought it could be a woman in charge. Never

suspected the meek, abused wife because you all assumed I was weak.”

I huff out a dry laugh. “Wrong. I didn’t suspect the abused wife only

because I couldn’t imagine one victim actively victimizing other innocent

women and children.”

She smiles wickedly and bends at the waist, leveling her green eyes with

mine.

“And I can’t imagine a man that puts his life on the line to save these

victims forcing an innocent woman into a relationship.”

She assesses me closely while I stare at her, searching for any emotion. I

only give her one—I tip my head back and laugh.

“Have you been stalking me, Claire?” I ask with mirth, meeting her glare

once more.

Her lips tip up further. “We’re all hypocrites, Z,” she says, ignoring my

taunt and straightening. “The only difference between you and me is that I

chose to profit off of the pathetic men in this world. They’re never going to

stop abusing those they deem weaker. And they’ll never stop raping and

killing them. So, I decided that if that’s the world we're going to live in,

then I’ll be damned if I don’t gain something from it.”

I smooth out my face, only clenching my teeth when the twinge in my

back worsens.

Fuck. I really need a hospital.

But I need Addie more.

“You could do so much good in your position,” Jay fumes, disgust

twisting his features. “You have immense power. And you choose to feed

into the patriarchy rather than changing it.”

She snarls, whipping the gun to him and pressing it into his temple. Jay

stiffens, but he doesn’t cower. My muscles lock, the throbbing pain fading

as I watch her finger dance over the trigger.

If she pulls that trigger… I will crush her throat beneath my boot before

that bullet finishes passing through Jay's brain.

“You’re wrong.” She looks at me. “Let’s say you did destroy all the

rings, Z. Let’s say you accomplished what you’ve set out to do. Do you

honestly believe, for one second, it’ll stay that way? Ha! The second the

dust settles, evil will already be rebuilding their empire, this time stronger

and better than before.” She stares at Jay and me as if we’re delusional.

“You'll never get rid of evil. Never.”

She’s not wrong, but that doesn’t mean I can’t put a massive dent in the

cesspool of rotten souls and create a power vacuum. I’m not under any

delusions that I’ll be able to erase human trafficking in my lifetime

completely. But that was never the fucking point. Saving these girls—these

children—and giving as many of them a second chance at life as I can is the

goddamn point.

My plan has always been to dismantle the government's shady control of

the people and their hand in the skin trade. That alone will make a

significant difference in the world.

It will be an ongoing battle long after I’m gone. The sun will explode,

and the earth will deteriorate before a perfect world ever exists. Humans

will kill themselves off before that can happen.

But Z? Z isn’t going anywhere, even when I’m buried six feet under. I

will raise a generation to take over, and they will do the same.

Claire looks over her shoulder then, and I notice a man approaching with

a deep hood over his head. I can only tell his gender because he’s built like

an upside-down Eiffel Tower. Massive, broad shoulders stretching the robe,

the seams nearly bursting, and then dramatically tapering down into chicken

legs.

Dickhead skipped leg day so often that he can’t even see them anymore

because they’re so skinny.

“Car is ready,” he announces, his voice deeper than the Mariana Trench.

Claire faces me, lowering her gun as the man’s raises, and flicks her

pointer finger up and down.

“Up,” she snaps, her tone sharp. “Now.”

Blowing out a steady breath, I force myself to move, gritting my teeth

from the aches in my body.

Grunting, I stand fully and train my glare on the red-headed snake before

me. She’s brave enough to meet my gaze head-on without an iota of fear.

I’m sure she’s used to men looking down on her, intimidating in nature. But

Claire has never dealt with a man like me.

“What do you think you’re going to do with me?” I challenge, staring at

her with condescension like you would a small child who believes they can

win an arm-wrestling match against you. “I’m a lot to handle, Claire.”

Her lips tip up in a secretive smile, unconcerned as she draws near, a

display to show me how unafraid she is.

“Patrick here will be taking you to our interrogation room. We're going

to ask you some questions.” She pats my cheek, returning the

condescension. “You’ll be useful and give us all the information we need.

How your organization operates and the illegal technology you use, along

with all the intel you’ve collected in your years as a terrorist. And then, I

will make you watch your little girlfriend with her new master before I kill

you myself.”

I stretch my lips into a feral smile, baring my teeth as I lean in and show

her exactly why she should be very fucking afraid.

“Better make sure those ropes are extra tight,” I growl. Her eyes round at

the corners, a hint of fear flashing as quick as lightning. Bitch may be ice

fucking cold, but that doesn’t make her immune to my fire.

“Lead the way,” I encourage, gesturing before me. Claire looks me up

and down, a scowl forming on her face at my superior tone. She’s gotten

used to people sniveling at her feet and bowing to her commands like metal

beneath a torch.

She has yet to learn that I’ve never been just a man.

With a sniff, she turns and walks away, making a point to keep her back

turned as if to prove a point. I’ve never needed to acquire fear in order to

kill, but I don’t mind teaching lessons. Addie can attest to that.

Jay’s stare is searing into the side of my face, a panicked look radiating

from his hazel eyes. He doesn’t need to say the words; his expression says it

all.

We’re going to die.

Not if I have anything to fucking do with it. I have too much to lose

that’s worth far more than my own life.

Her chicken-legged companion, Patrick, allows us to pass before he falls

into step behind us.

“Try not to stare at my ass,” I drawl.

He growls and nudges me forward with a meaty hand, his gun poised in

his other hand threateningly. Slowly, I twist my head to stare at him over

my shoulder, eyes wild and a grin I can’t feel on my face.

“Shut up and walk,” he snaps, but his voice betrays him, wobbling at the

last word. How hard it must be to feign bravery beneath the stare of a

heinous monster with a malicious smile.

The smoke is beginning to thin. Bodies are strewn across the cave, an

ocean of blood soaking into the rock. Following Claire, my foot knocks

against a severed arm, the limb rolling directly into a decapitated head, the

man’s face frozen in terror.

The howls of pain are slowly fading as the mortalities grow, and I can’t

help but marvel at the fact that the Society sacrificed their own people’s

lives just to ensure that I would be caught. That speaks volumes.

Not only am I a threat, I am catastrophic.

Claire leads us to the door that she disappeared out of after handing me

the knife. From the quick sweep of the room, I hadn’t seen any of my own

men, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not mixed in and possibly dead.

My chest tightens, hoping that’s not the case. They understand the risks,

but their deaths would be another responsibility to shoulder.

We follow her down a dimly lit hallway, an exact replica of the one I

entered the cave through. Strips of LED lights line either side, giving off an

ominous glow against the black walls and tiles.

This hallway steeply inclines upward now that we’re coming from

underground. It feels like climbing a mountain with the way my body aches.

Jay walks stiffly beside me, periodically glancing at me with fear and

anxiety. It’s clear that he’s never been in a dangerous situation like this

before. He’s always behind the computer, never on the front lines. I don’t

know how to assure him. I’ve never been one to lie, and while I’m

confident I’ll get us out alive, I can’t guarantee it.

In a matter of minutes, Claire is pushing open the door and leading us

out into a dark alleyway, scarcely lit by the moonlight and a streetlamp at

the end. The sweat gliding down the sides of my face is instantly cooled by

the brittle, Seattle air.

Claire wastes no time leading us toward a nondescript black van waiting

at the mouth of the lane, its tinted windows so dark that you couldn’t see

through it even if your face was smashed against the glass. Incredibly

fucking illegal, but those license plates will prevent them from getting

pulled over. They would only need to see Claire’s name to look the other

way.

The closer we get to the vehicle, the more Jay stiffens.

I lean closer to his ear. “Just think of Claire as your fairy godmother, and

this is the pumpkin carriage that’s going to whisk you away off to your

princess.”

“Or prince,” Jay corrects through gritted teeth. He’s sweating profusely

and his eyes are dilated. “I wouldn’t mind either.”

I shrug. “As long as you still make me Uncle Z.”

He scoffs, peering over at me as if I’m cracked. “You seriously think I’m

going to have kids after seeing this shit every day?”

I shrug a shoulder again, pursing my lips. “Why not? Uncle Z will keep

them safe. I can be their personal bodyguard. They may not like it, but I’ll

fucking do it.”

He shakes his head, the tiniest of smiles tipping up his lips,

understanding precisely what I’m doing.

I’m giving him a future. Painting a picture of him surviving and finding

happiness, whether he decides to breed mini gremlins or not.

As we step off the curb and approach the black van, the back double

doors open wide. Claire turns and nods her head towards the dark interior,

indicating for us to get in.

Shooting her a wink, I make my way into the depths of the van with Jay

close behind, her irritated huff following us in.

If this were anyone else, I’d tell them not to antagonize their kidnapper.

In fact, knowing that Addie is in the same exact situation right now, I’d

spank her ass if I knew she was being reckless. The smartest thing to do is

keep your fucking mouth shut and listen to orders until you find a way out.

But putting Z in the back of a van will never be the same as putting an

innocent civilian in it. For now, I can rely on the fact that they won’t kill

Addie. She’s worth too much. And seeing my situation laid out in front of

me, I am even more confident Claire isn’t going to win this round.

She may be smart, but she wasn’t smart enough to knock my ass out.

That could’ve given her a solid chance.

I sit down on the cold metal bench, gritting my teeth against the pain,

and train my feral gaze on Claire again. She stands right outside the doors,

staring at me with a slight grin. Her tight red curls are glaring beneath the

streetlamp, and for a moment, she appears innocent. She looks like a

woman who has endured years of abuse in all forms and just wants to live a

life in peace.

But the mirage shatters and all I see is a woman who became everything

she hates.

She shoots a loaded look of warning my way, then slams the doors shut,

triggering LED lights rimming either side of the floor to flicker on.

Jay settles on the bench across from me, immediately putting on the

seatbelt attached to the van wall, while Patrick sits next to me. So close that

he is practically sitting in my lap.

My eyes drift to him, a blank expression on my face. “You don’t want to

get in a swordfight with me, Patrick. I promise I’ll win,” I deadpan,

glancing down between his legs.

Jay hisses at me to shut up, but I don’t tear my gaze away from where I

feel his eyes hiding within the deep hood.

"You don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?"

“What’d I say?” I ask, feigning innocence. “I thought that was your

intent with the way you’re sitting in my lap."

“It’s going to be hard to get in a swordfight if you have no sword to

speak of,” he retorts, his tone dipped in malice.

I arch a brow, unimpressed with his threat. “Even with a chainsaw, it

takes time to cut through a tree trunk. You’ll be dead before you get that

far.”

“Keep talking,” he snaps, daring me.

I smirk, but keep my mouth shut. If Jay weren’t here, I would continue

to antagonize him. It would be my goal for him to attack me and hopefully

pull a weapon on me. Thus, presenting me with the perfect opportunity to

disarm and kill him instead.

But it’s possible he’d turn the gun on Jay, and I won’t risk his life in

place of my own, so I'll bide my time for now. Patrick is going to die. And

very soon.

The engine rumbles to life, the metal vibrating beneath my ass. The

vehicle surges forward, causing the three of us to sway heavily to the side,

forcing Patrick further against me.

We look at each other, and slowly, he slides a few inches away.

That’s what I fucking thought.

Now that the mouth breather has removed itself from my neck, I can

actually think.

But it only takes seconds for my thoughts to nosedive, the deadened

space I forced my mind into fading away, and that black rage resurfacing.

They took my little mouse.

I squeeze my eyes shut and bow my head, fighting to regain control over

my temper. The fragile layer of resolve containing my anxiety and

murderous rage is cracking. My panicked thoughts are too heavy, and just

like a person standing on thin ice, it’s eventually going to break beneath the

pressure.

But I can’t let it. Not yet.

I need to focus on getting us out, and it’s hard enough with my body

screaming at me.

There’s the option of attacking and killing Patrick, but that won’t stop

the vehicle, especially if they hear me attempting to escape. The only

alternative would be shooting the gun off until I hit the driver, which could

send us careening into traffic and killing us all. Or Jay and I could attempt

to drop and roll out of the back, except my body is too battered to withstand

that.

Exhaling through my nose, I lift my head to find Jay already staring at

me, brows knitted with concern. His black hair is matted to his forehead

with sweat, and he’s shaking like a leaf. He’s definitely not fit for a

mercenary life.

Fuck, that’s it.

Jay’s panic and my agony have made us both forget a very valuable tool.

There are Bluetooth chips still in our ears. They’re tiny and transparent, an

illegal device that isn’t noticeable unless you’re really looking for it. So

unnoticeable, that Claire hadn’t even thought to check.

The device in our ears is activated by a tiny button or a voice command.

But that means Jay or I have to use the word call.

I train my gaze on Patrick. “So, am I going to get my one call when we

get there?”

He grunts. “Funny.”

Silence.

Fuck, it probably got damaged by the explosion. Explains why my men

haven’t attempted to get a hold of me themselves. I cast a look to Jay, and

he nods, a drop of sweat flinging off the tip of his nose.

“Come on, man, my grandma is sick. She’s probably wondering where I

am.” I face Jay again. “Didn’t you promise your brother that you'd take him

to Chuck E. Cheese tonight?”

Jay works to keep his face neutral, but that’s another reason he stays

behind the screen. Kid can’t act worth shit.

“Yeah, uh… I should probably uh, call Baron and tell him I can’t make

it.”

Make it a little more obvious, Jay, dear lord.

Baron isn't actually Jay's brother, but another of my men that could help

us.

A little satisfied smirk tilts Jay’s lips, but he smothers it. The call

must’ve been successful, which means Baron will be listening in and

hopefully track us once he realizes something is wrong.

Jay continues after a few moments, “It’s probably important he knows

that we’re being held hostage, right?”

Oh my God.

“I’d prefer he never know what happened to you and live the rest of his

life wondering,” Patrick retorts, oblivious to Jay’s terrible acting.

Then, he turns to me. “You can keep playing your games, but you won’t

be laughing soon.”

“How soon?” I counter.

I can’t see his face, but I can feel the confusion radiating from the black

hole in his hood.

“My grandma is waiting.”

His fist clenching is my only warning before he sends it soaring into my

cheek.

My head snaps to the side, and pain blooms across my entire skull. The

punch would be tolerable on a typical day, but considering that I just

suffered through an explosion, it feels like another bomb has been let off

inside my head.

My instincts flare, and my fists clench with the need to hit him back. The

beast inside my chest is thrashing and raging, and that precarious control

slips a little more.

Addie. It’s for Addie.

Just barely, I manage to refrain. I need to give our men time to get to us,

though I know it won’t take long.

“Jesus, a man can’t call his fucking grandma? Asshole.”

He shakes out his shoulders and turns away, and I scoot further down the

bench. He can think it’s because I’m scared, but in reality, I’m two seconds

away from ending his life prematurely.

While we wait, I work to decompress, keeping the boiling anger in

check. That lasts a whopping ten minutes before I’m getting thrown for the

second time today.

Something heavy crashes into the van from behind, sending Patrick and

me flying off the bench and into the wall that separates the front from the

back.

Jay is jerked to the side, but the seatbelt keeps the lucky son of a bitch

anchored.

I groan, pain flaring in several different parts of my body as I roll onto

my back and try to breathe. I can’t even tell which parts hurt anymore—

fucking everything hurts.

Claire yells from the front seat, spitting demands at the driver to get the

vehicle under control. The van continues to swerve side-to-side, the driver

unable to regain control.

Another hit and the van lurches to the side and crashes into something

solid. Patrick collides into me, colorful words spilling from my mouth as

we slide towards Jay. My back slams into the wall as we come to a halt, the

behemoth smashed up against me. My ears ring from the impact, and it

takes several seconds to get my eyes to focus. Patrick may be

disproportionate as hell, but he’s still really fucking heavy.

“Jay, tell me it’s who I think it is,” I grit out, taking advantage of the

chaos and wrapping my arm around Patrick’s neck in a steel-tight grip. His

hands fly to my arm, clawing at me as I gradually crush his windpipe. He

struggles, and I clench my jaw as I fight to keep him still.

I’m weak, in an insurmountable amount of pain, and my muscles are

loosening.

“Sure is,” he pants, sweat pouring down his pale face.

“Good,” I mutter before gripping Patrick’s head and snapping it to the

side, breaking his neck and killing him instantly. “That’s for my grandma,

dick.”

“Bro, none of your grandparents are still alive.”

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