Bug

by Hunter, Ellie R.

  * * *

  Ellie R Hunter

  Bug

  © 2019 Ellie R Hunter

  Self-publishing

  ellierhunter@hotmail.co.uk

  * * *

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. 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 express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

  * * *

  twitter.com/EllieRHunter

  www.facebook.com/ellie.r.hunter

  Cover Design by Tracie Douglas at Dark Water Covers

  Formatting by Affordable Formatting

  Editing by Dana Hook at Rebel Edit and Design

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Also by Ellie R Hunter

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Also by Ellie R Hunter

  Also, by Ellie R Hunter

  Incurable Hearts

  Perfectly Obsessed

  The Grace Porter Series

  To Live or To Die

  Four Fallen Souls Series

  Smile, Alice

  The Lost Souls MC Series: Biker Bait

  Biker Faith

  Biker Bound

  Biker Born

  Biker Saviour

  Biker Taken

  Biker Torn

  Biker Ruined

  Biker Salvation

  Sons of Lost Souls MC: His Father’s Son

  His Selfish Love

  His Ride or Die

  Her Crazy Life

  His One Regret

  His One Choice

  To my daughter. Never let anyone make you believe you’re less than what you are, and you are, my darling girl, a brave, ambitious, strong-willed young woman.

  I wish I was poor.

  I know, I know, only rich people say shit like that. Actually, no one who is rich has ever said that, I guarantee it. They say, “Money can’t buy happiness,” and poor people say, “Only people with money say stupid ass shit like that.”

  Money.

  Greed.

  Power.

  There is no room for love. I know that now, and I’m not the one with all the money. He is.

  They class power as love. Women are possessions, and as such, we are theirs to please and to look pretty on their arms while being paraded around at parties. Sons watch their father’s actions and begin to mimic them, becoming their father’s son.

  Same shit, different generation.

  My love for him is bleeding me dry. So much so, I envision what I’ll be dressed in as I’m laid in my casket, ready for burial after I open my wrists up and bleed out into the luxurious bathtub. That’s how he makes me feel, like I’d have to kill myself just to get away from him. Would he even bother paying out for a lavish goodbye, or would he have a secret service with minimal people and fuss around?

  He’s all I’ve ever known, yet I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It can’t be.

  I’m supposed to be happy.

  I’m supposed to smile.

  I’m supposed to fly free and soar through life.

  I’m supposed to be a normal twenty-one-year-old girl enjoying life and seeking adventures.

  So, as I dare to look into the eyes of Huxley Bailey-Vaughan, the one person I thought would be my saviour and soulmate, my heart doesn’t break like I thought it would, not even a little. I’m too far gone for that.

  I’m not scared to be without him now. I’m more scared to stay and carry on the way we have been.

  “Come on, you think I’ve got all day to sit around chit-chatting?” he huffs, hoping I’ll shrug off my mood and tell him to go, as if what I have to say isn’t worth wasting his precious time over.

  “I wanted to tell you that I won’t be here when you get back,” I declare.

  There, I said it.

  The words tumble from my lips and out into the air around us, while my heart thrums in anticipation of his response.

  “If you go shopping, make sure you buy a new dress. I don’t want you wearing a repeat of what you wore last week. That shit was embarrassing.”

  What?

  No.

  He isn’t understanding me.

  “No, Hux, I won’t be here. I’m leaving. I can’t be here anymore…I can’t be with you anymore.”

  He stops from climbing off the edge of the bed and turns to me. His eyes, that a moment ago were impatient, are now frosting over with ice, and his jaw flexes with the subtle anger he’s trying to keep under control.

  “Like I said, make sure to buy a new dress, preferably navy blue. You know that colour on you hits me in the balls.”

  “I’m not buying a dress. I’m leaving—”

  He leaps across the bed and pushes me down onto my back. Gripping my chin, he leaves me no choice but to look into his eyes. They’re dancing with rage.

  “Where are you going to go, Bug?” he snorts, mocking me.

  “Anywhere, everywhere,” I retort.

  I don’t care where I am, as long as I’m gone from Bailey Cove. They’ll be no looking back for me when my ass leaves town.

  “Stop being so dramatic. You don’t have anywhere else to go, and you don’t have anyone apart from me. Who else is going to look after you, huh?”

  I will, I want to say, but I don’t need him to insult me further.

  Something hard digs into my thigh. I close my eyes, realising I’m here purely for his entertainment.

  Who else gets hard when their supposed girlfriend tells them they’re leaving?

  Huxley Bailey-Vaughan, that’s who, because he enjoys the manipulation games he plays with me.

  “Don’t,” I urge him.

  “You want my attention, Bug, you’ve got it. Spread your legs and let me in.”

  He thinks this is a ploy to get his attention? I feel sick. I know how to get his attention if I want it. I don’t need to resort to threats of leaving to get it.

  “I said, don’t,” I grind out through gritted teeth.

  He rears back far enough to look down at me.

  “You’re in a funny mood this morning. I like it.” He grins and forces my head to the side so he can assault my neck with his mouth.

  His breath, warm and fresh from brushing his teeth, hits my skin, and it doesn’t turn me on like it used to. Instead, it feels like tiny spiders crawling over me.

  I tense and make myself as stiff as a board. It takes a moment, but he latches onto my lack of involvement and swipes my head back to face him.

  “You’re pissing me off no
w, Ally.”

  He only calls me Ally when he’s being serious, or when I’m making him angry.

  “Let me go then,” I whimper, breaking out into a sob.

  His lips brush against my earlobe and I hold my breath.

  “Never,” he whispers.

  Here lies Conner Wilson. Son. Husband. Father.

  His headstone is cold, the unmarred granite barely settled into the ground. He’s been gone for three months, but it only feels like a day. Another tear falls and I let it. I’m sick of wiping them away. I knew love was a different thing with the right person, and I was obsessed with Conner’s love. It was pure and kind. It was soul lifting instead of soul crushing. It was everything I knew existed and craved. I had it in the palm of my hand, and now I don’t.

  He told me he would love me forever, whether he was alive or dead, and I believed him. I know he still loves me, but as I sit on the hard, cold ground, I can’t help the darkness seeping in as I look to where he’s buried. I thought I knew what loneliness was, but it’s nothing compared to this.

  I have an hour left before I have to pick Tobias up from school, so for now, I’ll allow the pain to consume me, because when he runs out of the gates, I’ll have to hide it all away.

  For him, I can do anything, and I’ll go as far as I must to keep us going forward. Picking at the leaves that have blown over in the soft winds, I keep the large auburn leaf, knowing Tobias will like it for his collection.

  My kid is pure like that. He likes how the leaves change colour through each season. It all fascinates him. Conner would spend hours traipsing around the back yard with Tobias, collecting different coloured leaves for him to keep until they shrivelled to dust.

  My heart tightens and I try to draw a breath, enough to keep me going.

  I miss Conner so much. I can’t deal with this. You have to, the shitty voice in the back of my head tells me.

  I know I do, I snap back at it.

  I’m about to pull myself up to my feet when the air changes around me. I smell cigarettes and cologne, a combination I’ve had the pleasure of not smelling in a long time. I would know who that particular combination belonged to anywhere.

  It has to be the grief messing with me. I haven’t slept properly since Conner passed on; sleep deprivation is a dangerous thing.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. Tobes wants to tell you about his book report,” I say into the air.

  The small dose of fantasy where I believe Conner’s ghost is sitting against the headstone watching me, trying to reach out and tell me I’m going to be okay, fades away and I stand.

  “Don’t lie to the dead. It’s cruel.”

  I freeze.

  I recognise his voice, only it’s deeper, colder, harder.

  I don’t dare turn.

  He cannot be here.

  I’ve done everything known to man to keep this from happening.

  I climb to my feet and sigh. I’ve failed, and I jump out of my skin when a set of hands fall on my shoulders. My hair moves, and I hear a long intake of breath.

  He’s smelling me.

  “You’ve changed. You don’t smell the same,” he whispers disgustedly.

  I still can’t speak.

  “I wonder if you feel the same under my touch?” he growls hungrily, and I jolt forward, away from him.

  “I don’t suppose you would, not after letting another man put his hands on you.”

  I turn in time to see the wicked humour in his eyes fade and darken. Nothing about him has changed.

  Not one thing.

  Huxley Bailey-Vaughan, with his dark hair swept back like a movie star. His dark eyes could melt ice, and his slender frame is dressed in an expensive suit— no doubt handmade—and a long coat. He flicks his cigarette to the ground, and I jerk back when it lands near my foot.

  “It’s time to come home.”

  A laugh escapes past my lips, and I quickly look away so I don’t have to witness the humiliation in his eyes. Huxley Bailey-Vaughan does not tolerate being laughed at.

  He steps forward and I step back. His gaze falls to the headstone, and I watch as he reads the inscription.

  “It’s a good thing he’s already dead. If he were alive when I found you, I would’ve put him in the grave myself.”

  My anger escalates into rage far quicker than I thought was possible.

  “Don’t you speak of him,” I snarl.

  He tilts his head, scrutinizing me from head to toe.

  “It’s time to come home,” he repeats.

  “I am home. It’s time you left.”

  Inside, my blood is boiling, my bones are quaking, and I could quite easily vomit where I stand. But, on the outside, I remain calm. Conner taught me how to control my emotions in the worst of times.

  Huxley turns his head, and that’s when I realise we’re not alone. A car door opens, and my blood runs cold when Tobias, the only good thing in my life, jumps out, and is held in place by a man I used to know very well.

  “You’re looking good, Ally, considering your husband is dead and all. It’s a damn good thing we found you and can look out for you.”

  Ryder Keogh, Huxley’s best friend. Well, one of them anyway. I’m surprised he’s still going around with Huxley since all he used to talk about was leaving town. He hasn’t changed much either. His hair is a little shorter, and hasn’t been styled with a gallon of gel like he used to use when we were in school. His eyes are still warm, and focused intently on me. Only the scruff along his jaw is new, and it suits him.

  I blink slowly, stopping myself from comparing him to the boy I used to know.

  “Tobes, come over here,” I call out, ignoring Ryder.

  He goes to walk toward me, but Ryder stops him, tightening his hand on his shoulder.

  “We’ve got to let Mommy and Daddy talk first.” Ryder grins mischievously, looking at me as he speaks in my son’s ear.

  Tobias’s face scrunches up in confusion and I leap forward.

  How dare he.

  “I’ve already spoken to your dad today. Come on, let’s go home.”

  I’m at his side in no time, and Tobias holds his hand out for me. I stare into Ryder’s eyes until he looks over my shoulder, waiting for permission from Huxley, no doubt. He releases his hold on Tobias and I pull him against me, turning to face the nightmare I’m starting to believe I’ll never wake up from.

  “Leave town, go back to wherever you came from, and forget I ever existed. I don’t even know why you came looking for me,” I seethe. I don’t understand how he found me. I got married and changed my last name. I can’t begin to process how or why he’s even here, especially after all these years.

  “How many times did I tell you? Well, obviously, not enough. You’ll always be mine. It doesn’t matter where or how far you run, I will chase you. Wherever you hide, I will find you. You’ve always been my favourite game, Bug.”

  Bug.

  I never understood why the name “Bug,” but it was a pet name he used that was once special to me. It was his term of endearment, something he never had for anyone else. I don’t deny he loved me, but the way he loved me was wrong. I’m just sorry it took me so long to work that out.

  My mouth goes dry when the corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk. He played his card, and it affected me. He knows it.

  His face grows serious. “Get in the car,” he barks out, losing patience.

  This can’t be happening. This morning, I was already awake when the sun rose, ready to face another day, going through the motions for Tobias’s sake. Now, my past is standing in front of me, smirking, and no doubt planning on how he’s going to make me pay.

  “You’re left with two options, Bug. One, you get in the car and we sort out where we go from here. Or two, you fight me, and/or run, I’ll find you again and I’ll take my son, who you’ve hidden from me for eight years. Perhaps I’ll let you see him from time to time, but you’ve been a bad, bad girl, and bad girls shouldn’t be rewarded.”

&
nbsp; Nausea envelopes me, and I swallow the bile that’s threatening to erupt from my throat. With Huxley on one side, Ryder on the other, and the driver off to the front of the car, there’s no way I’m leaving this cemetery without them. Thinking it over quickly, I can’t afford to make silly decisions around him, and fighting him right this minute won’t work to my advantage.

  “Option one,” I murmur, guiding Tobias into the car.

  He climbs in, but before I can join him in the town car, a hand clasps around my arm, and I feel his body press into my back.

  “Don’t think option one is better than the second. The only reason you’re still alive is because I want the boy to be comfortable with me. Once he is, all bets are off and accidents may occur. Be careful, Bug.”

  I hiss out my frustration and yank my arm free from his hold. He chuckles behind me, and it’s the sound I reckon the Devil makes when he ties more souls to Hell.

  Tobias and I sit on one seat, while Huxley and Ryder sit across from us on the other. Hux is quick to light a cigarette as the car begins to move, and Tobias starts to cough.

  “You get cancer from smoking,” Tobias tells him.

  “Is that right?” Hux remarks, opening the window.

  “Yeah. My dad got cancer and he smoked, didn’t he, Mom?”

  I don’t look at Huxley. The anger simmering around him is palpable, and it tells me he’s going to make me pay for everything he’s missed over the years.