Regret (Shattered Secrets Book 1)

by Bella J.

  “Blue, I will be whatever the hell you need me to be. And keeping you happy and safe is the only reason I live from here on out.”

  Chapter 16

  Present

  Hunter gave a sideward glance toward Scarlet, who was silently sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window. Ever since they got in the car, her usual loud mouth that seemed like it never shut up was oddly quiet.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Without looking in his direction, she answered, “Why do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

  “Because you’re quiet. And I was convinced that you and that mouth of yours are incapable of being quiet.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  Silence.

  Complete and utter, deafening silence.

  Well, shit.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe he was wrong about her. Thinking she was nothing more than a stubborn, hard-ass, ungrateful woman with no filter and a dirty mouth was wrong. Maybe there was much more depth to her than he initially thought. That there was more to her than just enticing curves, kick-ass heels, and that stone-cold bitch look she had down to a T. After all, Hunter should be the last person to judge. God knew he had shit of his own, and some fucked up ways to deal with it all. The world was a screwed up place, and everyone had their own demons to fight—some just more than others. And he knew right from the get-go that this woman had her own demons to fight…just like him. What he wondered was how big those demons were. What was she running from? Why did she pretend to be this hard-ass woman when Hunter saw glimpses of a softer, more vulnerable Scarlet?

  Maybe that was how she coped with everything, pretending to not give a shit in order to protect herself from getting hurt. Just. Like. Him.

  Dammit. Now he felt like a complete asshole over what he said to her back in Adam’s garage. Sure, the only reason he kissed her was to get her to calm the fuck down. But did he have to be such a douche about it? Probably not. And truth be told, kissing her felt real fucking good. Too good. Those full, soft lips of hers kissed the oxygen right out of him. Kissing her was hot and wild, like there were no limits, no reservations, and no rules. Just take it all and give it back just as hard. It made him wonder what it would be like to be with her, to have her body in every way.

  Then there was the whole pinning Scarlet against the window of his apartment thing. Touching her, pushing his finger inside her, feeling how ready her body was to take him had his cock throbbing with the need to fuck her. It had been years since Hunter experienced that kind of need, that kind of pressing ache to be inside a woman, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel awesome experiencing such a powerful sense of desire again.

  He snuck another glance her way. She still hadn’t moved an inch in her seat.

  “Scar—”

  “Don’t. I’m not telling you anything more, so don’t even try.”

  “If you want me to help you, you have to tell me.”

  Finally, she turned to face him, but her expression was nothing but cold, hard stone. “I’m only going to say this one more time. I did not ask for your help. Neither do I need your help.”

  Abruptly, Hunter slammed on the brakes, and Scarlet barely managed to not hit her head on the dashboard.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, shall we. I am sick and tired of you pretending you don’t need my help when you and I both know that if it wasn’t for me, your ass would have been back to wherever the fuck this Wolfe guy is by now. You might think you had everything under control, but think again. I saved your ass while putting my own ass on the line. Yet here you are giving me nothing but shit about helping you.”

  Scarlet snorted. “I don’t think kissing me in a damn elevator after finger fucking me against your window qualifies as helping.”

  Hunter held up a finger. “The kissing in the elevator part was helping, actually. I got you to get a fucking grip on yourself, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah. And you made it perfectly clear that was all you were doing. Helping me get a grip.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Blanchette. Did I hurt your feelings?”

  And then she punched him in the face. Granted, it wasn’t the best punch ever, but it was good enough to make him shut up.

  He looked at her, her eyes shooting sharp daggers straight at his forehead. The amount of anger oozing out of her was downright toxic…and fucking wild. Suddenly, all Hunter wanted to do was kiss her again. He wanted to kiss her until he didn’t know where his lips ended and hers began. He wanted to kiss her so damn hard that both of them would be unable to fucking breathe. But this time it wouldn’t be to help her get a grip over herself, to settle her anger. Oh no. He wanted it all directed at him, her anger, her fury, and he wanted her to go fucking crazy wild while they screwed each other senseless.

  Without taking her eyes off him, she whispered through clenched teeth, seemingly seething with anger, “Do not call me that again. Ever.”

  That was the moment Hunter realized this woman had so many secrets, so many demons she carried around inside her, she was basically the female version of him.

  After a long moment of just staring at her, thinking about where this strong need to help her came from, it dawned on him that maybe it was because he couldn’t help her—Blue. The one person he had vowed to always protect—but failed. Maybe Scarlet was his chance at redemption, to finally atone for letting down the love of his life so many years ago, and in turn losing her. Maybe this was the universe’s way of letting him find the forgiveness he was never willing to give himself. A way for him to not feel like shit every goddamn day of his life.

  “Fine.” He sighed. “I won’t call you that again. Not unless you ask me to.”

  “Which will never happen.”

  “But you need my help, whether you want to admit it or not.”

  She remained silent and turned to look out the window.

  “I am going to give you one more chance here, Scarlet. One more. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Just let me help you.”

  She looked down at her hands folded on her lap, her thumbs nervously rolling around and around. That was when he caught his second glimpse of her vulnerable side she so desperately tried to hide. And for the first time he understood it, her need to hide her pain, to never show weakness. He understood it because that was what he’d been doing every day for the past few years.

  “Scarlet.” He reached for her hand, but she jerked away, and he pulled back. “You can trust me.”

  This was probably not the first time someone had said those words to her, so he really couldn’t expect her to trust him at the drop of a hat. He wouldn’t. Trusting people in her world was probably almost as difficult for him to trust people in his. Fuck, he really had no business judging or making assumptions when it came to her.

  “Fine,” she said softly without looking up at him. “Okay.”

  He wanted to smile, but he didn’t want to risk getting punched in the face again.

  He righted himself in his seat and turned back onto the road. Somehow, someway he would figure out what the fuck was going on, and he would do everything he could to help her. Why? He had no clue.

  Chapter 17

  Hunter parked the Bugatti in front of a house that looked like someone had magically pulled it from a catalogue and plopped it down in the most perfect location ever. Now Scarlet knew exactly what Hunter meant by saying the car they took would totally blend in where they were going.

  The double-story beach house was an oceanfront property with windows all around the first floor, giving it a panoramic view of the water. Two huge white pillars stood vast in front of the house, above it a huge balcony with a walkway right around the top floor. It was ultra-modern, and even sexy in a weird, architectural way.

  “Wow.” Scarlet stared open mouthed at the house when she closed the car door.

  “Yeah. The underwear model just happens to be an architect as well.�
� Hunter walked around and stood next to her. “Hence the huge-ass, flashy beach house.”

  She glanced at him. “So the underwear model isn’t just a pretty face?”

  He narrowed his eyes, and she smirked. Even though he tried to play their little kissing fest in the elevator off as a method to help her get a grip, the little action that took place against his apartment window sure as hell wasn’t. The way he touched her, the way his voice dropped when he spoke all those dirty words was proof enough that he really wanted to fuck her right there and then. Of course, there was the very impressive wood he was sporting and the way he reacted when she pushed her hand down his pants. There was no way he could have downplayed that as anything other than him really wanting her—well, her body at least.

  Hunter walked up the steps and turned to face her. “You coming? Or are you going to stand there the whole day drooling over a piece of architecture?”

  “A piece of architecture?” Scarlet started up the stairs. “This is a masterpiece of architecture if you ask me.”

  “Luckily, I’m not asking you.”

  Hunter entered the passcode and they heard the click of the door unlocking. The lights in the foyer automatically switched on, and when Scarlet walked into the house, her jaw dropped.

  The first thing she noticed was the huge metal spiral chandelier with soft lights hanging from the double ceiling. A spiral staircase to the right led up to the second floor, with silver diagonal wires running down from the ceiling connecting to the steps. Everything was metal, silver, granite, and shaped concrete. Square shapes and lines seemed to be the theme, exactly the way Scarlet imagined an architect’s house to look like.

  As she made her way to the living area on the left, she took in every highly contemporary inch of the house. White couches stood in the living room with a huge flat screen television set against the wall. The gray granite top dining room table with ten matching gray chairs stood to the right. The entire living area was open plan, feeling airy and light. And even though the furniture seemed nothing less than fucking expensive, everything about the house seemed like a minimalist design. Ultra-modern simplicity. In other words, fucking awesome.

  “Look at this view.” Scarlet rushed to the windows, looking out over the ocean and wooden deck with pool to boot. The sun was high in the sky, rays of sunshine beaming over the crystal clear water. For a few moments she basked in the beauty and serenity of it all. It had been so long since Scarlet had experienced something this amazing, this beautiful. Every apartment or room she had lived in the last few years was cramped, old, and depressing.

  Hunter stepped up next to her. “Adam might be an arrogant SOB, but he sure has taste.”

  “I want a tour.” She turned to face him. “I want to see every inch of this damn house.”

  And then something really fucking weird happened—Hunter smiled. It wasn’t an arrogant smirk, or one of his cocky grins she had gotten used to. It was an actual smile. A warm, sincere, from the heart kind of smile, and it made her aware just how damn attractive he really was.

  He nodded. “Sure. Come on.”

  “Yay.” She rushed off in the other direction, eager to see the rest of house. Hunter followed, and she heard him snicker behind her. Not such a hard ass after all.

  It took them more than an hour to take a tour through the entire house. That was if you didn’t count the time Scarlet took listing at least ten very good reasons why she should have the main bedroom with sliding doors that stepped out to yet another beautiful deck with a massive Jacuzzi. After about twenty minutes of incessant whining, Hunter eventually agreed, but with one condition. He would sleep in the same room since the house was just too goddamn big and he wanted her close at all times—just in case.

  Scarlet agreed, but the long gray couch that was bigger than her damn apartment would be his bed. No way would she be sharing the king-size bed covered in black silk sheets with anyone.

  “Okay.” Scarlet clapped her hands together when they walked into the living area again. “Now that the grand tour is out of the way, let’s check out the mini bar.” She glanced around the living room. “Which would be where exactly?”

  Hunter stepped into the kitchen, which was only separated from the living room by a twelve-foot marble counter top with three round metal lamps hanging over it.

  “This would be the mini bar.” He opened a double door cabinet, and Scarlet found herself gawking at one big fridge with clear doors, displaying every alcoholic beverage you could come up with in a ninety-second time limit. From beer to wine to ciders to tequila. Everything Scarlet could think of was there. Except for the most important one.

  “Where’s the Jack Daniels?”

  Hunter searched the fridge. “Well, it seems like that’s the only damn thing the underwear model didn’t stock up on.”

  Damn. “I knew there was something about him I didn’t like. Fine. I’ll go with tequila, then.”

  “Yeah, good choice.” Hunter opened the fridge and pulled out the bottle.

  After filling two shot glasses, Hunter didn’t wait for her to join in before he slammed away his first shot.

  Scarlet peered at him with narrowed eyes. “On edge much?”

  “And you’re not?” He filled his shot glass again. This time Scarlet joined in and they both tossed the tequila back.

  After allowing the burn of the alcohol to settle in her stomach, she looked at him. “I guess I’m used to the feeling.”

  For a brief moment, their gazes locked. Flashes of him having her pinned against his apartment window with his hand between her legs had her mind reeling in a hundred different dirty directions. There was no way she would be able to deny that he woke a kind of desire inside her that had her thighs clenching at the thought of how hard and big he felt in her hand when she touched him. It was real fucking intense, and it scared the crap out of her.

  Breaking eye contact, she reached for the bottle and poured each of them another shot. “So, what is it you do exactly, Mr. Keaton? Besides stalk women, wanting to be a good Samaritan every chance you get?” She swallowed another mouthful of tequila before shooting him a challenging look.

  “I don’t go around wanting to help every woman I meet, Scarlet.”

  “Then why are you so hell-bent on helping me?”

  With his elbows on the counter, he leaned forward and hung his head down. “That’s a good fucking question.” He looked up, green eyes searching hers like he was looking for something inside them. “It’s a good question, because I don’t know the answer to that myself.”

  From out of nowhere, it felt like someone had ramped up the heat by fifty degrees, the atmosphere suddenly thick with tension—the I want to tear your clothes off and screw your brains out kind of tension.

  With a sudden dry throat, Scarlet gulped down another shot of alcohol. For some weird and unexplainable reason, she now felt real nervous being around him and his body that had become real distracting.

  Probably feeling the pulsing tension between them as well, Hunter cleared his throat and placed his empty shot glass on the counter. “I need to go change the security code of the lock key.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll be changing that security code every few hours during the time we’ll be staying here. We can go out, but no one can come in without that code.”

  “How long are we going to stay here?”

  He turned around and looked at her pointedly. “For as long as it takes me to figure out exactly what’s going on.”

  It wasn’t an invitation for her to tell him what was going on. It wasn’t a dropped hint for her to open up and tell him all her secrets. Oh no. It was a promise. A vow that he would figure out everything about her and her past, and it was only a matter of time until he did.

  Scarlet watched as he disappeared behind the wall that separated the entryway from the living area. There were a few beeping sounds as he reprogrammed the security code, and then he walked toward the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower.
Try not to bury yourself in the bottom of that tequila bottle.”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny, asshole.”

  “I’m not kidding.”

  Hunter stomped up the stairs, and when she heard the bedroom door shut, Scarlet pushed the shot glass to the side and grabbed the bottle, pouring the alcohol down her throat in one stream of liquid satisfaction. The more she drank, the less the sting was. Alcohol was the only thing that numbed her, that silenced the voices inside her head. She wasn’t an alcoholic—or at least she didn’t think she was. But alcohol did help her clear her head and take the edge off living with all the fucked up shit she had to deal with. God knew she needed something to silence the demons, to push away the memories. Without some relief from the ghosts of her past, she would have been certifiably insane a long time ago. Most nights she was too scared to even close her eyes in fear that he might come for her in her dreams. They may not have been real, her nightmares, but it was just as painful. She would wake up trying to claw her own damn skin off just to get rid of his touch, the feel of his wickedness against her flesh.

  Talk about problems. It seemed that with Hunter Keaton came an entirely new set of problems. Not only was he determined to uncover her secrets, but he was instigating a war between her body and her head. Her body telling her that she really wanted to succumb to the temptation that was him, and her head trying to convince her no one could be trusted. Until now, she had only depended on herself for survival. Now there was Hunter, nothing more than a stranger, trying to get her to open up.

  But how was she supposed to tell him, to let him in—to trust him? Was she even capable of trusting anyone anymore? It had been such a long time since she had freely trusted anyone, and look where that got her.

  “Fuck,” she muttered when she placed the bottle back on the counter. For so long she had done great on her own, doing her own thing and not relying on anyone. But she wasn’t an idiot. She knew she really fucking needed help. For the last two days, Hunter had seemed adamant to help her—why, she didn’t know—and now there was this tiny glimmer of hope that maybe he could. Maybe Hunter could help her finally get her life back. Was it stupid and reckless of her to even harbor that little glimmer of hope? Probably…definitely.