Page 175 of Reckless Vengeance

“She really was going to kill us,” Marco muttered, still eyeing the scene. “I can handle it. Get her out of here. Take the Mustang. You’ll want to probably hide it away until the heat dies down. People here won’t talk, but just in case.”

I placed the gun on the ground near Max, looking at him one last time. It was over, he couldn’t fuck with my life anymore.

“C’mon,” Hunter said gently when I must have zoned out, and he reached out to grab my wrist, tugging me towards the door. “Keys.”

“You’re not driving that car,” I said without hesitation, and he groaned.

“You’re probably in shock. You⁠—”

“I’m fine,” I answered, fishing the keys out and holding onto them tightly. “No one drives it.”

He sighed but let me have my way as we wandered around the corner to the Mustang, and I drove to his on autopilot, parking in the garage to get it out of view.

It was strange, my brain feeling foggy as he ushered me into the house, and I didn’t really remember showering, but I smelled clean and slightly like chemicals. I felt naked without my necklace, but I remembered Hunter taking it off me to make sure there was none of Max’s DNA on it since I refused to let him dispose of it.

Hunter was in his office, rapidly typing away at the keys while I smoked, and I ended up getting to my feet to join him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, standing behind him.

“I need to wipe a bunch of footage of the Mustang, and your phone pinged near there, so I need to fry a few things,” he answered, not looking at me.

“Thanks for answering the phone,” I mumbled, and this time he turned in his chair, giving me a small smile.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“You were in a meeting?”

“Yeah. I told them we’d reschedule,” he shrugged like it was that easy.

“Why can’t Skeet do that?”

“Because I own my crew, but the crew owns Skeet. The Psychos will never change. I’ll always drop everything for you because I care about you. My guys don’t get a say in my personal life, and I don’t get a say in theirs. Give me your phone, I need to do some shit with it.”

I didn’t ask questions, he’d proven his loyalty enough to me, so I stood back as he plugged it into the computer, keys flying as he did fuck knows what.

It was a nice kind of silence as I sat on the floor by the door, watching him work as time passed.

My ass was numb by the time Marco wandered in, stopping beside me to pat my head.

“All sorted, Princess.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry he didn’t answer, but I’m also not surprised,” he said bluntly, patting my head again before leaving the room, the sound of him getting comfortable on the couch reaching me.

“Can I try to call him again?” I asked quietly, and Hunter handed my phone back since he was done with it, getting to his feet.

“I’m going to make you some food, okay? If you can’t get a hold of Skeet, you can crash here. We’ll deal with the rest tomorrow,” he promised, leaving the room as I tried to call Skeeter.

His phone was off now, frustrating me more. With everything happening around us, how could he not check in?

There was no point continuing, so I gave up and headed out to the living room to find Marco sprawled out on the couch with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched TV. He gave me a dirty look when I shoved his legs off so I could sit, and I sat there until Hunter called us for dinner.

“No Skeet?” Hunter asked, and I shook my head. “Figures. You can have my room. I’ll get Skeet to sort out another gun for you too, you’ll need it with the Soldiers still around.”

“Max said Claire’s my sister,” I grumbled, making him snort.

“The blonde bitch? She looks nothing like you.”