Page 129 of Twisted Fate

“Why do you need to see Hunter?” He asked lightly, but I could hear the annoyance in his voice.

I finished my cigarette, flicking the butt onto the ground and squashing it with my shoe as I let out a sigh.

“Diesel said he was looking for me before, so I really don’t know. Please don’t fight with me tonight, Skeet. I just want to find out what he wants so I can go to bed and sleep.”

“Be careful?” He asked gently, surprising me completely.

I hesitated, stepping forwards and giving him a tight hug, grateful that he trusted me to be fine on my own.

“I will.”

“Take the McLaren, I’ll get Diesel to drop me home later.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, kissing his cheek as I took his keys and wandered over to his car.

Psycho by Post Malone and Ty Dolla $ign played through the speakers as I drove to the warehouse, and I wasn’t surprised to find Hunter in the back room with some of his crew when I arrived.

He glanced up, giving me his famous panty-dropping grin.

“Hey, hot shot. I was just wondering if I was going to have to track your sweet ass down.”

I rolled my eyes as I approached him and moved behind his desk, perching my ass on the edge.

“You know we had a meeting.”

“You’re here now, so that’s all that matters,” he shrugged, handing me a bottle of whisky from the drawer before motioning to his crew and speaking to them. “I think we’re done here tonight guys. Clear out so I can talk to Donovan.”

They all mumbled goodbyes, but once they were gone, I gave him a frown as he checked his phone.

“So, what’s so important? I want to get home to bed.”

“Who hurt you?” He asked without looking up at me.

What a weird fucking question.

“Heaps of people, why?”

“I’m talking about your arm, it’s bandaged,” he sighed impatiently, finally glancing up and meeting my gaze.

I smirked, pointing at my arm.

“Oh, this? Nah, that was consensual. You know what Skeet’s like.”

“Come here,” he asked bluntly, making me scoff at the tone he was using on me.

It was the same no-nonsense tone that Skeeter used on a regular basis.

“I am here.”

“Rory, now,” he warned, growing more impatient as he waited for me to slowly stand.

I didn’t bother fighting him as he yanked me down to straddle his lap so that I was facing him.

He met my gaze again before unwrapping the bandage, his fingertips moving along the heated skin close to the wound.

“He’s getting meaner with it.”

“Yeah, well. The more he does it, the more I want it,” I shrugged, moving to stand but he firmly took my waist, holding me still.