“Hey!” Random Chick blurted at Hunter, “Watch where you’re going!”
Hunter tossed a casual smirk in Random Chick’s direction while giving me a look that said, “Can you believe her?” He didn’t care. Hunter was totally full of himself.
Why hadn’t I noticed before that Hunter could be such a lout? Maybe because his good looks were very deceiving. Maybe because when I’d met Hunter, Christos had been dating his girlfriend for a couple of months and I was lonely. I was susceptible to Hunter’s quick smile and his golden amber eyes. And his ample muscles. And his washboard abs.
Hunter smiled, “How come you stopped returning my calls, Tiffany?”
I shrugged while absently playing with the red plastic sword that skewered the olive in my empty martini glass.
“I had a lot of fun that night,” he said hopefully. I could tell he was fishing for another shot with me.
I was torn between distaste for his bad behavior with Christos and my own desperation. I didn’t know which would win out tonight. I think the number of martinis I drank would affect my decision. I really didn’t care.
When the martini I’d ordered arrived, Hunter pulled out his wallet and said to the bartender, “I’ll get that. And could you bring me a Corona?”
The bartender nodded and pulled a bottle out of the bar fridge, popped the cap, and handed it to Hunter.
Hunter laid bills on the bar, including a tip.
I sipped my martini. Hopefully the gin would blot out my emotions. I was tired of feeling sad all the time. It had definitely gotten worse in the last month. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was think about things.
(Christos)
Hunter sipped his beer and grinned at me.
He really was a good looking guy with a friendly smile.
He lifted his beer and said, “Cheers.”
I clinked my martini glass against his beer, then gulped down a swallow.
I couldn’t decide if I was making a mistake drinking with Hunter or not. I mean, we’d had sex once before. He wasn’t a total loss.
For the next thirty minutes, Hunter talked about himself. And talked, and talked, and talked. And talked. I almost asked the bartender for some earplugs, which they had on hand because of the live music. But the band was still on break. I didn’t want to be entirely rude. So I nodded a lot, focused on his smoldering amber eyes, shaggy blond hair, and pretended to care about Hunter’s boring life.
I wondered if he would talk this much during sex. He was so much better looking with his mouth shut.
“Anyway,” he said, finishing some story I’d already forgotten, “that’s why I spent last summer in Cannes.” He pronounced Cannes as “cans.”
I suspected Hunter had never been to Cannes, let alone France, or anywhere else in the Mediterranean, from the way he talked about it. He sounded like a guide book, not someone who travelled.
“You want another drink?” Hunter asked.
I held my hand over my glass, “I’m good.” Then, without warning, the wheels in my head started turning. They always did, no matter how much I drank. “Hey, Hunter, how is work going?” The first time he’d taken me out, he’d told me about his modeling for two hours straight.
“Oh, I haven’t done too many gigs lately.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I got in a fight with this guy.”
“Really,” I said, all ears. “What guy?”
“Some guy named Christos Manos. Do you know him?”
“No,” I lied. “What happened?”
“This guy Christos started some shit with me awhile back. So I fought him. I ended up with a broken nose. But you should’ve seen his face when I was finished with him.”
I had. Christos’ face was flawless as always, and I believed his version of events over Hunter’s. “Really?” I gasped. “Did you put him in the hospital or something?”
Hunter chuckled confidently, “Close.”
Such a scam artist. But then, Christos had already told me as much. I said, “Aren’t you worried about getting sued for beating up this Christos guy?”
Hunter frowned, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, people sue all the time, don’t they?” I hoped I sounded every bit the dumb blonde. I giggled for effect.
“Funny thing is,” Hunter grinned, “I’m suing him.”
“Why? If you put him in the hospital?”
Hunter shook his head, “No, I almost put him in the hospital. It wasn’t that bad.” I could tell he was backpedaling and trying to shore up his lie before it fell apart.
“So, why are you suing him?” I asked innocently.
“Because he started it,” Hunter sneered snidely. I could tell the truth was seeping out around the edges. Hunter was in over his head. He continued, “The guy has a ton of money. He should’ve known better than to start shit with me he can’t finish. He’s lucky I didn’t really put him in the hospital.” Hunter nodded a superior nod.
“What a jerk,” I said ironically. Hunter didn’t suspect I meant he was the jerk. I was still sober enough to realize that I should’ve listened to my instincts about Hunter. He was a total tool. After what Christos had told me tonight, I should’ve told Hunter to walk away the moment he’d walked up to me at the bar. I excused myself on the grounds that I’d been lonely and it had been a moment of weakness. “I feel like going for a walk,” I said randomly.
“Okay,” he said. “You want company?”
“Sure.” I grabbed my purse from the hook under the bar and stood up.
Hunter followed me outside into the night air.
We walked down Cedros Avenue, past all the closed shops and parked cars, until I found an alley. I turned down it. It was dark, dingy, and cloying. Good enough.
I pulled Hunter into the darkness with both hands, grabbing him by the shirt. Once we were far enough from the streetlights on the sidewalk to be completely in shadows, I pulled Hunter into me.
He pushed up against me, grinding me against a rough stuccoed wall.
Perfect.
We kissed. I wasn’t really into it, but I had a reason to be here. We made out for awhile. It didn’t take long for me to get bored. Time to get down to business.
I unbuckled Hunter’s belt.
“Whoa, Tiff,” Hunter purred, “you don’t waste any time.”
I glared at him and fisted his T shirt in my hand. “Don’t call me Tiff. You don’t call me Tiff. Got it?”
“Whatever you say, darling,” he grinned.
I could deal with darling. Whatever. I unbuckled his belt. “You’re still clean?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Hunter said, “I told you that the last time we had sex. I get tested all the time.”
“But that was five months ago.”
Hunter stopped. “Tiffany, look. I get tested regularly and I don’t sleep with any old skank that comes along. I’ve only had sex with two girls since you, and I know them both. They’re clean. Trust me.”
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
“Over with? Do you even want to be here, Tiffany?”
“Yes, I most definitely do.”
Hunter’s amber eyes flashed. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He grinned and leaned forward. More wet fish kisses followed. Not that it mattered. We were doing this.
So what if we ended up having sex in a dank, dark alley? So what if I was dry when he stuck it in? So what if I told him to fuck me as hard as he could before I was even into it? So what if my back was raw from him grinding me against the stucco wall behind me? So what if he came inside me?
After everything Christos had told me, Hunter was a total scam artist. A hot and sexy scam artist. But there was no way I was letting him get away with swindling Christos out of hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Hunter wasn’t the only one who knew how to play games.
When we were finished, I said, “I have to go.”
“What? Where are you going? Let me buy you another drink in
side. Or we could go back to my place.” He glanced around the dark alley, “Someplace nicer than this.”
I pushed my dress down over my thong, which Hunter had torn apart and was nothing but a waist belt now. Good. I looked over my shoulder at my butt and saw my dress was nice and dirty from rubbing up against the stuccoed wall. “I have to go to the emergency room,” I said, still looking over my shoulder at my dress.
“The emergency room?” he asked, confused. “For your dress?”
“Bye, Hunter.” I started working up some tears. I wanted my mascara running before I got to the hospital. I started toward the lighted sidewalk at the end of the alley.
“Hey,” he grabbed me by the arm and turned me around.
“Ow! Hunter!” I shouted, “That hurts! Let go of me!”
He released my arm, his eyes wide with uncertainty. “What’s wrong with you, Tiffany?”
“I’ve been raped. That’s what’s wrong with me.”
“What?” he gasped. “I didn’t rape you!”
“You didn’t? Because I could swear that’s your semen inside me right now. And when I go get swabbed out at the ER, they’re going to find it.” I turned around so he could see my dirty dress. “And would you look at that? My dress is soiled and scuffed from where you threw me against the wall. And my thong is torn to pieces. Sounds like rape to me. And, boy,” I winced, “was I dry when you put it in. I’m sure they’ll find plenty of abrasions.”
“What?” Fear pulled his face in twenty directions at once. “You’re insane, Tiffany.”
“Am I?”
“You totally wanted it,” he scoffed.
“That’s what the rapists always say.”
“Fuck you, Tiffany.”
“It wasn’t fucking. It was rape.”
He grabbed my arm again.
“Oh!” I jeered, “Are you going to beat me up now? Give me a black eye? Go ahead, Hunter.”
He let go of my arm and scowled at me. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because, Hunter, you’re an asshole. And because you’re trying to sue Christos Manos when all he hurt was your pride.”
His brows curled. “You know Christos?”
“Of course I know Christos, dumbass. And I know he doesn’t start fights. He told me what happened.”
Hunter scowled, “You bitch.” Now he was figuring it out. Not that it made any difference.
“You just want his money because you’re a leech, Hunter.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Is it?” I asked thoughtfully. “Then why are you still suing him?”
Hunter smirked and looked away. He looked guilty as hell.
I smiled, “I’ll make you a deal, Hunter. In exchange for me not pressing charges and sending you to prison for three years, you drop your suit against Christos. Deal?”
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“You already did, Hunter. I have the evidence to prove it. All I need to do now is run my face into the side of a door and give myself a black eye.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” he scoffed.
“I wouldn’t? Like I wouldn’t let you fuck me while I was still dry so I could frame you?”
He opened his mouth to say something, then the light went out of his eyes and his shoulders sagged. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“One hundred percent. Take your pick, you can try to rip off Christos and his family, and end up in prison, or you can forget about it and I will too.”
“How do I know you won’t press charges?”
“You don’t. You’re going to have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” He laughed. “After tonight, I’ll never trust you.”
“Hey, I took you at your word that you haven’t slept with any skanks since the last time we had sex.”
“I haven’t,” he frowned. “Honest.”
“See?” I smiled. “Look how good trust works.”
“Fuck, Tiffany, you’re terrible.”
“That’s how I felt about you when I found out you’re basically blackmailing Christos.”
“Now you’re blackmailing me?”
“Yup.”
“Fine. What are you going to do?” He sounded scared. Good.
“Well,” I said, “I’m going to the ER, like I said. They’ll use a rape kit to collect evidence. Then I tell them I don’t know who it was. It was dark, I didn’t get a good look at your face, it all happened so fast and you ran off afterward. If you don’t drop your suit against Christos, I suddenly remember who you are. It’s that simple.”
“You’ve thought this all through, haven’t you?”
“And you didn’t? Did Christos tell you his family was rich, or did your lawyer figure it out for you? I know how lawyers think, Hunter. Lawyers like yours have been trying to rip off my family for decades. Like I said, Hunter. You’re a leech, and you want what isn’t yours. This is your last chance. Deal or no deal?”
Hunter clenched his jaw and glared at me like he wanted to kill me.
So what.
Chapter 29
CHRISTOS
I lounged on the double chaise under the San Diego sun the next morning. Samantha lounged beside me. We were catching rays on the deck by our pool.
We’d been out so late, we crashed when we got home. Neither of us had any energy for sex before bed. I think we’d both used up all our adrenalin during the excitement of my solo show and afterward at the Belly Up. We’d just fallen asleep in each other’s arms. As long as Samantha was by my side, I never cared what we did.
After breakfast this morning, all we wanted to do was rest. It had been a long year.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Samantha asked. “Your lemonade is empty.” She was laying on her back, her bikini top unknotted. She had no idea how incredibly hot she looked, all tan and brown.
“I’m good,” I muttered. Luckily, we were both tan enough to lay out for a long time without getting fried.
“Good, because I’m too tired to stand up,” she giggled, resting her cheek on my shoulder and her arm on my back.
“I’m going to have a Samantha tan line,” I joked. “It’ll be a silhouette in white of where you curl up on top of me.”
“It’ll look stylish. We’ll invent couples tanning. It’ll be all the rage by the end of the summer. Make your own fancy pattern on your lover. Unlike a tattoo, it’s easily removed.”
“That’s genius. Why hadn’t we thought of that before,” I chuckled.
My cell phone rang on the glass table next to me.
“You don’t have to answer that now, do you?” Samantha asked.
I picked up the phone. “It’s Russell.”
“More bad news?” Samantha sighed.
“I hope not. I should answer.” I put it on speaker phone. Samantha may as well know. “What’s up, man?”
“Christos! You’re never going to believe this,” Russell said enthusiastically.
“If it’s bad news, I probably will.” I smirked at Samantha.
She rolled her eyes.
“I got a call from Hunter Blakeley’s attorney this morning.”
“Fabulous,” I sighed.
“He wants to settle.”
“Yeah? For how much? A half million?” I said sarcastically.
“Twenty-four thousand.”
I sat up in my chaise. “What?”
“You heard me. Twenty-four thousand. Eleven thousand for Hunter’s medical bills and lost wages, and thirteen thousand for his attorney’s fees.”
After last night, I could easily cover that. Not that I wanted to throw away that much cash on an asshole like Hunter, but considering I’d hit him instead of walking away, twenty-four grand seemed a small price to pay to get him off my back for good. “What the fuck happened, anyway? I thought Hunter and his lawyer were holding firm.”
“I have no idea,” Russell said dramatically. “I’m as surprised as you are, Christos. There must be an angel out there watching over your ass.”
&
nbsp; An angel. I shook my head. Why not? Stranger things.
“Now,” Russell admonished, “Before you go getting the idea that it always works out like this, that you always win your cases or get off easy, may I remind you that it would be far simpler in the future to avoid fighting altogether?”
I chuckled, “Hey, would you believe I actually walked away from a fight last night?”
“You did?” Russell said, all excited. “Good for you.”
“And you’ll never guess with who,” I chuckled.
“Hunter Blakeley?”
“How’d you know?” I chuckled.
“Lucky guess. But that sure is strange.”
“I can’t explain it either. But I’m telling you, he got up in my face and I didn’t lift a finger.”
“Good for you, son. I’m proud of you. With any luck, this will be the last time you ever require my legal services for behaving like a tough guy. Promise me we can keep our relationship entirely social from here on out?” He sounded amused and hopeful at the same time.
“It’s a promise. But I need to ask you one more thing first.”
I could practically hear him rolling his eyes over the phone. “Christos, do I even want to know?”
I glanced at Samantha. To Russell, I said, “You know what? I’ll tell you about it later.”
“All right, son. I’ve got work to do. Let’s talk again soon, all right?”
“Will do,” I smiled and ended the call. I turned to Samantha and grinned.
“Wow,” she said, “that’s good news, right?”
“Totally,” I smiled.
“I mean, it’s a lot of money, but I guess you have enough?”
“Yup.” I laid my head back on the chaise and gazed up at the pure blue sky. “For the first time in years, I finally feel like I can put all the shit in my life behind me.”
“That’s awesome,” Samantha said.
After awhile, I stood up. “Want some lemonade? I’m going to go make a fresh pitcher. We finished off the one my grandad left in the fridge.”
“Now you’re making it too?” she grinned.
“Hey,” I smiled, “it’s a Manos tradition.”
Painless (The Story of Samantha Smith #3) Page 53