The Hunter's Angel

The Cold Truth

Bone-chilling fear and shock had me petrified as I stood face to face with the man who had betrayed us. The man who had me kidnapped. 

The man who had killed Hunter's father. 

Every possible word I could have said escaped me, a combination of cold dread and bitter fury coating my throat as I stared at Bruce—not sure if I should run or fight. 

"Layla," he spoke carefully, his arms still raised in surrender. "I'm sorry to have startled you like this, but I mean no harm." 

I shuddered a breath, taking a slow step back. He meant no harm? As if he hadn't just broken into my home? As if he hadn't deliberately harmed me by having me kidnapped, let alone murdered Hunter's father in cold blood? 

"Get the hell out of my apartment, Bruce, or I swear to God I'll kill you," I bit out slowly, clinging onto the fury I felt and praying my voice sounded stronger than the sharp terror twisting inside of me. 

Bruce took a careful step back, giving me more space. "Please, Layla," he pleaded, his normally hard gaze flashing with desperation. "I'm just here to talk. I need you to hear me out." 

What the hell was going on? He wanted to talk? 

Bruce, who had gone missing ever since the night his true motives became revealed, had suddenly appeared out of thin air to talk? 

"Talk? You broke into my home and you just wanna talk?" I forced out, hoping to distract him as I slowly edged closer to the kitchen. 

If I could make it a couple more feet, maybe I could get my hands on a knife. Or something. Anything to keep me from being defenseless. 

Bruce let out a terse breath. "Trust me, I know how this looks. I know how all of this looks. But I need you to hear me out. It's for your own good." 

I shook my head as I edged another step, not believing a word that came out of his traitorous mouth. 

"Where have you been this whole time?" 

Several weeks after Hunter had ended things with me, I had overhead Rico talking on the phone with him, claiming that Bruce was nowhere to be found. I hadn't given it much thought since, what with my mind preoccupied with everything else, but clearly, he was alive and well.

"I've been in hiding. Ever since that night," he spoke, his voice laced with something akin to remorse. 

That night. The night he had me kidnapped.

Suddenly, I was struck with another wave of fear as I remembered that horrid night. I could still see Bruce's guilt-ridden gaze in my mind as he let those cruel men take me. As he ruined everything Hunter and I had built.

Brimming with a combination of apprehension and anger, I eyed Bruce with pure disdain as I fought the tremors shaking my hands. 

How the hell was I going to make it out of here? 

Peering past Bruce, my heart sank to my stomach when I didn't see Rico's Cadillac parked outside.

Shit. I thought he would be keeping watch. 

Swallowing the swell of fear in my throat, I shifted my gaze back to Bruce. "Rico is right outside," I lied, taking another careful step towards the kitchen. "I'll call him right now." 

Bruce cursed under his breath, dread painting his gaze. "Layla, listen to me. It's Rico. Rico is the one you should be afraid of. That's what I've come to tell you." 

I paused, mere inches from the knife drawer, Bruce's words rooting me to the floor.  

"What the hell are you talking about?" I rasped.