Hunter a rough romance, p.1
Hunter: A Rough Romance, page 1
HUNTER
PIPER STONE
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Afterword
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About Piper Stone
Copyright © 2025 by Stormy Night Publications and Piper Stone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Stone, Piper
Hunter
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
CHAPTER 1
Hunter
“Six women confirmed inside.” The voice came from my earpiece, the location identified almost impossible to see. Thick vines covered most of the aging building. “Infrared also detects seven guards. Without a doubt, they’re heavily armed. Be careful.”
Yeah, I planned on doing so.
There would be no additional communication until the rescue mission was complete. I’d either succeed or die. There was no in between. There would be no second chances. This was a one-shot deal. The human traffickers were set to move the women by truck just before dawn. At that point, I’d have zero chance of saving the victims.
Giuseppe Carlotto, the brutal Italian crime lord, was considered one of the most notorious masterminds in the world. He enjoyed the capture, torture, and sale of women. Instead of using unwanted girls, runaways, or lost souls, he targeted those who would bring the heftiest price for their bodies. Actresses, princesses, daughters of prominent businessmen. While ransom was sought, there was no thought of returning them safely.
The women captured were nothing but slaves, sold off to the highest bidder. To my mind, the bastard was the worst scum on earth.
I moved carefully toward the old warehouse, the building having been abandoned over ten years before. It was located in the middle of a rural area and covered by vines. Without the prior knowledge of the Carlotto soldiers, discovering the building would have been next to impossible. But the people I worked for were damn good at what they did.
And I was their instrument of death.
I pushed against the dilapidated side, checking the ammunition in my M4 assault rifle one last time. There were plenty of rounds, more in the second carbine weapon I also carried.
The fuckers working for the pig would never again see the light of day.
After one last check of my watch, I scanned the perimeter and moved in. I’d been privy to the blueprints of the building, securing the best way to get inside. Every move I made had been calculated to the second. There was no time to waste. More of the fuckers would be on the way, the distance of the second team unnervingly close.
Killing the men wasn’t my concern.
Getting the women on the transport vehicle was.
How our advance had been located was above my pay grade, but I’d refused to back down without a fight. Maybe I was the rogue soldier I’d been labeled after all.
I placed the explosive on the lock, taking a few strides away. The work of art had been designed to keep from creating the sound a usual explosive would make. With only a slight puff of air, the lock was blown off.
Using every bit of my stealth training, I moved inside, adjusting my night goggles so I wouldn’t make a mistake.
Crouching lower, I hugged the walls and headed for the main room, catching sight of a single soldier.
I heard a desperate cry, then a thud and a shriek. As usual, intimidation and physical abuse were used to keep them quiet. Not that anyone would be able to hear them. They’d disappeared without a trace from stores, coffee shops, churches, and other highly protected areas. The soldiers were damn good at what they did.
I was better.
After creeping closer, I noticed an open door. That was where the women were being held. With my weapon in both hands, I took several long strides into the main room.
An enemy soldier noticed me out of the corner of his eye.
As he swung around, cursing in Italian, I fired off several shots, immediately spinning and catching another soldier as he bounded into the room. When I heard two more voices preparing to come loaded in my direction, I raced toward them instead.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
I sprayed bullets, shifting from left to right, making certain I’d hit my target.
As if I’d miss.
One more jumped from the shadows, his angry expression displaying his hatred and determination to kill me.
“Muori, il maiale Americano.”
Die, American pig.
More proof our mission had been compromised.
He was cavalier in his actions, taking more than a split second to lift and fire his weapon.
I wasn’t into hesitating. My patience was next to zero. With a single shot, I caught him between the eyes. Too bad I hadn’t had time to show him what American pigs could do with a knife.
Another shadow captured my attention, and I jerked to the right.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The last two bodies slowly crumpled to the floor, their soulless eyes wide open from the unexpected attack. There was no time to bask in my glory. I raced into the second room, quickly surveying the situation.
The hostages were tied up, three on some chairs, while one hung from a beam in the ceiling. The last two were on the floor, neither moving.
Well, fuck me. This was going to be more complicated than the team had originally thought.
“Devi fidarti di me. Sono qui per salvarti. Farai come ti dico, e vivrai.”
You need to trust me. I’m here to save you. You will do as I say, and you’ll live.
The words I’d spoken in Italian thankfully got through to them.
Even the two women on the floor lifted their heads in acknowledgment. Sadly, I didn’t need to be a doctor to know they were both in bad shape, one in particular. All six had obviously been beaten, victims of a horrific crime that often suffered little or no consequences.
I moved from one to the other, untying or unbolting their shackles, bolt cutters needed for two of them. I’d come prepared, but time was running out.
Once they all were freed, I was forced to hoist the most injured of the six over my shoulder.
“Devi seguirmi. Stiamo andando verso un veicolo da trasporto fuori di qui,” I told them.
You need to follow me. We’re headed to a transport vehicle out of here.
The words didn’t seem to register for a single woman, yet they followed, stumbling in their actions, motions that would haunt me for days and weeks to come.
As I guided them from the building, I continuously scanned the area. No one was in sight, but my gut told me that other soldiers were in route. They were sophisticated in their methods, enjoying the tools of the trade that money could afford. I pushed the women toward the bank of trees located behind the back entrance, whispering encouraging words while still maintaining a sense of awareness.
A sound caught my attention only six minutes into the hike through the forest. The backup team had already arrived.
“Go. Go. Go!” I shouted in English, praying to fucking God they would listen to me. All five hastened their footsteps, finally running blindly through the trees.
We were close, very close, and I held back guarding the rear, commands in Italian fueling their run to safety.
A van was waiting, one equipped with a bulletproof exterior. The soldiers inside were nearly as well trained as I was, capable of blowing any enemies to oblivion and beyond. After a ten-minute drive, we’d shift to a waiting helicopter, the flight taking us to a US-based hospital located in the middle of nowhere.
From there, they’d be reunited with their families.
I followed behind, cognizant the bastards had gotten our sc
“Continua a correre.”
Keep running, I’d told them.
The fact that they were closing in forced me to alter my plans. I moved behind a tree, lowering the woman gently to the ground. Within seconds, shots were fired.
I fired back, shifting my assault rifle back and forth to try to level the playing field. Fuck. They were still coming.
There was little other choice but to pick up the woman and continue the last few hundred yards. As I blasted through the trees, more shots were fired, some far too close for comfort.
The van was within sight, the other women already being pulled to safety. With only fifty yards to go, I hunkered down and raced toward the open door.
Pop! Pop!
Several more gunshots rang in my ears, but nothing would stop me from getting the last victim to safety.
As one of my own men shouted that they had to leave, I lunged forward.
The single shot fired hit me just below the shoulder, the force of the weapon used pummeling me forward. There was no pain at first, no time to register the injury. The men I trusted pulled us both into the van, the sound of the door slamming echoing in my ears.
I was pulled away from the woman, agony creating an ebbing flow as stars floated in front of my eyes.
The driver sped off to the sound of gunfire all around us. As the woman in my arms was pulled away, I struggled to lift my head, fighting to see her condition.
“Soldier. Look at me,” one of the men ordered.
There were moments when the job I’d been hired to do brought satisfaction. As I finally lifted my head, staring into the man’s eyes, I could sense defeat.
Today wasn’t a good day.
But I would ensure the man responsible for these horrible actions would suffer.
Two days later
“Cosa posso offrirti?” the girl behind the beat-up bar asked.
I scanned the bar, loathing the seedy environment. Italy wasn’t immune to the corner establishments where men and women went to get drunk. This one was no exception. At least she wanted to know what I wanted to drink. And God knew I needed one. “Whiskey.”
“Ah, American. Where are you from?”
“Nowhere.” That statement was true. At this point, I was a man without a country. I could tell she was watching me as she grabbed a bottle from the shelf, yanking a glass from under the counter. She slammed it down, pouring a nearly full glass. She’d already gathered that I wasn’t a man to be fucked with.
The mission was almost complete, but I was close to disobeying orders.
Not that I gave a damn.
The fucker had to die.
Giuseppe was expected to arrive any minute.
I chugged almost a third of the drink, hissing from the way the liquor burned the back of my throat. Everything I’d tasted lately had been rotgut shit.
As two men walked into the seedy shithole, I barely glanced in their direction, but I didn’t need to get a better look to grasp that neither of the two was my mark. Goddamn it. The fuckers were still one step ahead. That didn’t mean the men sent to hunt me down didn’t deserve to die. I’d chased Giuseppe through two countries. I was tired. Angry. And I needed two goddamn weeks off.
At least I could send him a message that American pigs weren’t to be fucked with. Maybe I’d continue the hunt, even if it went against orders.
Besides, a vacation wasn’t going to happen. I already had another assignment, yet the location was top secret. What the fuck ever. I didn’t care where the work dragged me. I was a killer by trade, a monster by decision. Fine by me.
As I shifted, a reminder of the horrific event from two days before remained firmly planted in my mind. Revenge was required.
I took another swig, calculating how I’d handle the kill. As luck would have it, one of the men headed for the bathroom. He would become my target. I’d leave the other to spread the joyful news I was still around. It would seem Giuseppe had been unfazed by the small defeat. There were plenty more women to abduct to fill their quotas. He was an arrogant pig, the brother of the man responsible for creating a twisted lottery among the wealthiest of men throughout the world. They believed they had the world by the balls.
They were wrong.
I’d already cased the small joint, happy to see the rear exit. As I yanked the money clip from my pocket, I noticed the bartender’s eyebrows were raised. I always carried cash, but identification was a death sentence. My papers were hidden underneath a floorboard back at the small hotel.
I threw some euros on the counter. Not enough to draw attention to a rich American but more than enough cover the bill. If the chick with the pierced nose knew what was good for her, she’d take the money and keep her damn mouth shut. I threw back the rest of my drink, giving her a nod before rising from the barstool. I didn’t hurry as I made my way into the bathroom. There was no need. The mark wasn’t going anywhere.
Once I was inside, the target’s sounds were just as repulsive as the acts he’d committed. I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes briefly as he finished his business.
This was more personal than others, the kill holding some sense of both meaning and urgency. I was eager to go through with my assignment. When he flushed the toilet, I took a deep breath.
This wouldn’t take very long.
As expected, he sensed danger immediately, reaching for the weapon he had holstered to his shoulder. I didn’t give him the opportunity to fire off a shot or yell for help.
Not that anyone would give a shit.
I wrapped my hand around his throat, yanking him off kilter before securing my other hand around his neck. “Presto il tuo inutile fratello ti raggiungerà all’inferno.”
Soon your worthless master will join you in hell.
When he dared to fight back, I smashed his head against the porcelain sink, using that time to secure the hunting knife in my hand. As the blade went through his skin, I envisioned soft butter. But I made certain he would never see the light of day again, using enough force he was close to being decapitated.
My skills were legendary, and the men I hunted were well aware of my existence. But only by reputation. Fuck if the man wasn’t a bleeder. Damn it. I dropped his limp body like a rock, hissing as I glared into the mirror. For the first time in as long as I could remember, specks of blood covered my face.
My handler would call them war wounds.
I called them disgusting.
Grabbing a towel, I turned on the water, rinsing off the knife before wiping my face. It wasn’t about being presentable but about maintaining secrecy.
After taking a quick look at my reflection, I took a long stride over the dead man’s body and out the door. With a single glance down the hallway to ensure I wasn’t being followed, I disappeared out the back door into the night.
No one would ever discover who I was or would ever be able to hunt me down.
Because I was a man who didn’t exist.
CHAPTER 2
Three years later
Hunter
I know what you did.
I sat back in my chair, glaring at the text for the third time. From an unknown goddamn source. The crystal glass of whiskey remained in one hand, my cell phone in the other. Was this some kind of joke? I’d done a hell of a lot of things in my thirty-eight years. Enough to know I had dozens, if not hundreds, of enemies. But what I’d done had all been for the betterment of the human race.
Or so I liked to tell myself.
Me: Who the fuck is this?
I waited, still staring at the screen. The other party was using an iPhone, which should mean I’d see the blips when they were typing. Either the text had been sent in error, or they weren’t interested in responding. I debated typing another nasty comment, my thumb poised to do so, but decided against it.
What was the point in getting into a battle of wills with an asshole who insisted on playing games? I took a swig of my drink, no longer tasting the smooth liquor that was usually my favorite beverage. I’d needed a bracer since my brother was about to walk down the proverbial aisle into holy matrimony.
To my mind, there was nothing holy about the state of marriage.
If I had the name of the texting asshole, I could hunt them down within three days. While I no longer remained tight with my previous team, I had favors I could call in if necessary, an emergency number I hadn’t used to date. However, without a doubt the unknown personality could be revealed in less than twenty-four hours.
