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The floorboards creak when I step up to the last window downstairs. I check the lock needlessly, since I already know it’s securely latched, just like it is every night. I move to the front door and once again, make sure the alarm is set. For years, this has been my nightly routine. Not only for Cat’s peace of mind, but for mine as well.
I take the stairs two at a time to the second floor. As I pass the first closed door, my steps slow, and I run my knuckles across the wood. I do the same to the door across the hall from it.
Cat’s already in bed, leaning against a pile of pillows, the blanket pulled to her waist, her eyes on me. Like she’s been waiting for me. She watches as I turn off the light and stride across the room to the bed.
“Did you check the windows?” she asks as I place my gun on the nightstand. I’m never without my gun. It’s an extension of myself. It’s what separates Cat from anyone who may want to harm her.
I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve killed over the years. I don’t take the lives of innocents. Only people who I consider unworthy of their living status. Consequently, because of that, I’ve made plenty of enemies. Sometimes those enemies grow bigger balls than what they’re capable of carrying and think they can take or harm what belongs to me.
There’s only been once they’ve succeeded, and I’ll kill every motherfucker walking the earth before I let it happen again.
“Yeah, baby, I did,” I tell Cat.
“Even the one above the sink?”
I get into bed, pulling the covers over my waist. Cat moves to my side, wrapping her arm around my torso, and laying her head on my chest. I pull her closer, needing my girl as close to me as possible.
I kiss the top of her head. “You know I checked it.”
“Okay,” is her quiet reply.
Cat tucks her face deeper into my chest and tosses one leg over mine. I pick up her hand and bring the inside of her palm to my lips. I get a kiss on my chest in return.
“Love you, Hunter.”
I’ve heard those words thousands of times, but they never cease to amaze me how I got so lucky to have found a woman like my Caterina. She’s special in so many ways, and is the strongest woman I’ve ever known. My life would be a blank void if I didn’t have her, and I thank God every day that I do.
“I love you too, baby,” I reply roughly.
Cat’s the only person who can bring out the softer side of me. Before I met her, I didn’t have a soft side.
Both of my parents died when I was two. After they passed, I was tossed around from one foster home to another. At thirteen years old, I left the last foster home behind and moved my ass to the streets. I could take care of myself a fuck of a lot better and was happier as a homeless kid than I ever was living under some sick fuck’s roof.
During the next several years, I stole, fought, and slept behind the same dumpsters I dug in for food. I ran drugs for a couple of different thugs and beat the hell out of those who thought they could fuck those same thugs over. I was scrappy and learned early on how to fight and stand up for myself. Because on the streets, if you didn’t, you’d end up someone’s bitch or in a body bag.
Nine months shy of turning eighteen, Thomas Myers found me breaking into his car and took me home to his wife, Sandra. Thomas gave me a choice. I could either stay with them until I reached legal age or he would report me to the cops for attempted burglary. I chose option A, which left me in a warm bed at night and food in my belly. However, I remained wary of the couple.
I don’t know why Thomas invited me into his house where I was around his wife. The only thing he knew about me was that I lived on the streets and was a thief. No matter how cautious I was around them or how withdrawn I was, Thomas and Sandra never let it bother them.
By the time I turned eighteen, my guard around them had slipped. While I didn’t fully trust them, I wasn’t as worried about their ulterior motives.
A week after my birthday and the night before I decided it was time for me to leave, Thomas and Sandra pulled me into Thomas’s office. They had a secret. A fucking huge secret. It wasn’t a coincidence that brought me into their lives. Apparently, they knew my parents. Not only did they know them, but they were very close friends. However, that wasn’t the biggest shocker. My parents had left me an inheritance, which equaled more money than I could ever spend in a lifetime. A week after they delivered that news, they were both killed in a car accident.
I went from being a homeless street rat with nothing to his name, to having a bank account fatter than most. The money was only accessible if I went to college or when I reached twenty-one. Although I had no desire to further my education, I got my GED, and my ass went to college.
During our sophomore year, Silas and I began planning Slate and opened its doors three years later. As a kid on the streets, I built a reputation for being harsh and merciless. I took what I needed, stayed out of others’ business, and brutally protected what was mine. As long as you didn’t fuck with my shit and didn’t prey on the innocent, we’d have no problems. My reputation remained intact and strengthened once we opened Slate.
Cat shifting against me pulls me out of the past and back to the present. A contented sigh escapes her lips as she tucks her face into the crook of my neck. I tilt my head down and breathe in the vanilla and rose scent of her hair.
My life began the day I met Cat. Not only that, but she saved me from heading down a dark path I’m not sure I would have found my way back from.
* * *
I immediately wakeup when I hear a low whimper. My instincts know exactly what it is before I open my eyes. Cat’s captured in one of her nightmares. Her sweat-drenched body is still draped over mine, her small hand balled into a fist on my chest. The look of pain on her face tears a jagged hole in my chest.
Usually, Cat wakes up as soon as the nightmares begin, but sometimes she gets trapped in them.
Rolling to my side, I slowly move my hand up and down her stiff back. My other hand slides through her hair and cups her cheek, lifting her head so I can see her face better.
