Before he could even form a response, Archer said, “We know you care about Lottie. Fuck, maybe you even love her, but you’re running out of choices here, Hunt. Lottie’s truth can help you.”
“No,” Hunt ground out.
Rhys shook his head slowly. “You need to look at this from all angels.”
Hunt drew in a deep breath, reining in his anger. His friends didn’t deserve it, and the concern radiating on their faces was enough to get him to settle down. He sat back down, rubbing his aching neck. “The only way this can end is to get evidence against her brothers. That will clear my name. That will keep Lottie safe. I refuse to let these fuckers destroy her life more than they already have.”
“I agree with Hunt,” Archer said, rising. “Elise is currently trying to find out who recorded the punch.”
“Why?” Hunt asked.
“To help you get out of this,” Archer continued, moving to the liquor cabinet and pouring himself another glass. He looked back over his shoulder at Hunt, his gaze alight with determination. “You need evidence to clear your name. She’s going to find it.”
Hunt stared from friend to friend, his chest filling with warmth. “Please thank Elise, and thank you all.”
While their small smiles greeted him, a headache kept pulsating in his temple. He rubbed at the spot, needing sleep, needing more time to think, needing…Lottie.“I keep going back to what her brother is asking for—something that will destroy their family. There’s got to be evidence that will take down their operation.”
Archer returned to his seat. “Evidence that, for some reason, only Lottie would have.”
Kieran sighed. “But what, is the question…”
The back-and-forth continued for another hour while they talked through everything, trying to find what they were missing, looking for any holes that Hunt hadn’t already considered, until Timmy started crying. Hazel’s footsteps pattering against the floor above got Kieran out of his seat, heading up to her and his newborn son.
They all took that as their message to leave, and headed outside, shutting the door behind them.
When they reached the car, Rhys opened the rear door and asked Hunt, “Are you going home?”
“Not yet,” Hunt replied. “I’ve got one place I need to go first.”
Rhys’s mouth twitched. “Want a ride to Lottie’s?”
“Thanks, but it’ll be faster if I take the subway,” Hunt said.
Opening the door on the other side of the car, Archer said, “If you need me, call.”
“I will.” Turning on his heel, Hunt jogged toward the subway’s stairs, grateful for the men in his life whom he knew would have his back in a second if he needed them.
The entire subway ride to Lottie’s condo, Hunt sorted through all he knew, looking for holes, for anything that could help him get her brothers put behind bars. He considered calling down to Chicago, getting the case files on her brothers, but now he couldn’t touch anything to do with them, or he would face more trouble.
When he finally reached her condo and entered, he stopped in at the security desk. “Hunt Walker to see Lottie Harlow. I’m on the approved guest list,” he said.
The security guard typed on his keyboard. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’ve been removed from the approved list.”
Irritation burned in his blood. Could nothing tonight go easy? “Please call up to her.”
“Of course, sir,” the security guard said, reaching for his phone. A moment later, he said, “Hello, this is security. I have a Hunt Walker requesting to come up.” A pause. “Right. Okay, thank you.” He hung up the phone and then said to Hunt, “Someone is coming down to meet you.”
Great. Hunt didn’t like the sound of that. “Thank you.” He moved off to the side, keeping his focus on the elevator doors. When they finally opened, his mood soured further. “You’re not who I wanted to see,” he said to Ronan.
Tightness creased the corners of Ronan’s eyes. He gestured outside, and Hunt followed him out the double doors into the still night. Ronan wore a leather coat, and Hunt knew his weapon was concealed there.
The moment the door shut behind Hunt, Ronan said, “I hate to tell you this, but she doesn’t want to see you. I’m under strict instructions not to let you inside.”
Hunt got it. He’d broken his promise. But…after the night he had, he needed her arms and legs wrapped around him tight. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “She’s that pissed, huh?”
“Pissed,” Ronan said, mulling over the word. He finally shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t say she’s pissed, but I’d say that she’s feeling much like you felt tonight—determined to protect you.”
Hunt tilted his head back and shut his eyes, breathing deep. He was so damn tired. “Okay,” he conceded, looking back at Ronan. “She’s all right?”
