by Bella J.
Chapter 3
The way Hunter saw it, he had two choices. He could either take Scarlet and run, go hide away somewhere until he found a way to sort out this mess. Or he could follow his gut instinct and stick around this James Baxter character for a while and see how it played out.
Did he trust the guy? No.
Would he trust anyone when it came to Scarlet? That was a negative.
He was a very observant individual, and he saw Scarlet’s reaction to James. Yes, her normal I-don’t-need-anyone attitude did not disappoint, but Hunter saw through it. She seemed curious, perhaps even a little hopeful while she stared at James as he told the story of him and her mother.
Scarlet tugged on his arm and leaned closer. “Hunter, what the hell are you doing?”
“Oh, come on, Scar. Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious about this man.”
“Curious, yes. But stupid? No. I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I.” He reached behind her and placed his hand around the back of her neck, leaning closer to her ear. “I made you a promise, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but that was before—”
“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the van before she could finish her sentence. Truth was he knew what she wanted to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. The fact that she was Willow’s sister was not something he could afford to be distracted by.
As they approached the black SUV waiting for them, Hunter let go of Scarlet’s hand and grabbed James by the collar before pushing him up against the vehicle.
“You listen to me, and you listen carefully.”
Riggs reached for his gun, but James held up his hand to stop him yet again.
“I don’t trust you. In fact, when it comes to Scarlet, I don’t trust anyone. So if I catch you just looking at her the wrong way, I will feed you your balls. Do I make myself clear?”
James kept his gaze and nodded with a subtle grin spreading over his face. “Crystal.”
“Good.” Hunter let go of James’s collar and turned to Riggs. “And you, try to reach for your weapon one more time when it comes to Scarlet or me and I will push you even further up Baxter’s ass than you already are. You feel me?”
Hunter heard James snort behind him, but he was too busy glaring holes through Riggs’s forehead. By the way Riggs squared his shoulders, his eyes darkening, Hunter got the feeling this man had the potential to be a huge pain in his ass.
“Come on, boys. Let’s play nice.” James placed a hand on Riggs’s shoulder, silently telling him to back off—which the good soldier boy did.
Hunter walked back to where Scarlet was standing with her arms crossed in front of her chest, foot tapping on the ground, staring at him with narrowed eyes.
Hunter shrugged. “What?”
“Was that really necessary?”
“Absolutely.”
She shook her head and stomped off to get into the SUV while Hunter stared after her. That was when he noticed Riggs staring at her, watching her as she climbed into the vehicle. The bastard probably felt Hunter’s glare of pain because he looked up, straight at Hunter.
Yeah, that man was going to be a pain in Hunter’s ass for sure.
Before Riggs could get in after Scarlet, Hunter intercepted and pushed him to the side.
“Good view?”
Riggs just narrowed his eyes and glared at him.
Hunter leaned closer. “Whatever the hell you’re thinking…stop thinking it, Robin.”
After everyone took a seat and they finally pulled out of the underground parking lot and onto the street, Hunter wanted to put his arm around Scarlet’s shoulders. But he knew better. Earlier, when he tried to give her just a little support by taking her hand, she’d rejected it, which was exactly like Scarlet. She hated showing her vulnerable side, which she kept hidden under all those layers of bravery and smart-mouth comebacks.
So he did the next best thing, he inconspicuously moved his leg just an inch so that it touched hers. When she looked up at him, her blue eyes dark with uncertainty, he got hit right in the gut with reality. Those blue eyes seemed so hauntingly familiar to him from the first day he looked into them. And now he knew why. Now he knew why Willow had haunted him more during the last few weeks than she ever had. It was because of Scarlet. She triggered all those memories, all those flashing images of Willow that taunted him so fucking much. It all made sense now…unfortunately.
Everyone sat in silence for the majority of the trip to Davenport. Probably mostly because the air was so thick with tension it was almost too hard to breathe. Talking would just make it even harder to take a breath.
After what seemed like hours of the most uncomfortable silence Hunter had ever endured, he cleared his throat and looked at James sitting across from him.
“So you said we were going to a safe house? What kind of safe house?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“I’d like to know before we get there.”
James sat up straighter, never taking his eyes off Hunter. “It’s a safe house for girls we manage to save.”
“Save from what?”
James glanced at Riggs, then back at Hunter. “We can discuss that when we get to Davenport.”
Boy, talk about being vague. “Okay. But I have another question.”
James snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”
“You mentioned that due to circumstances, you and Scarlet’s mother were unable to be together. What circumstances exactly?”
Hunter felt Scarlet straighten next to him. He knew she was burning for answers, yet too stubborn to ask questions. Asking questions would mean she actually cared about getting answers, and heaven forbid Scarlet should seem like she cared about anything.
James looked at Scarlet and finally answered, “The nature of my work doesn’t exactly allow me to have…people I care about.”
Hunter rubbed his fingers along his jaw. “So, in other words, the nature of your work is—”
“Dangerous, yes.”
“How dangerous?”
“Extremely.”
Well, that certainly put Hunter at ease. Not.
“Sir, we’re here.” Riggs moved to the door when the SUV came to a stop in front of huge iron gates. When the gates opened, Hunter glanced at Scarlet. She was looking out the window as they drove up the driveway. There wasn’t much to see. Just huge oak trees that seemed to never end.
Scarlet had been weirdly quiet the entire way. Hunter wasn’t used to her keeping her mouth shut longer than a few seconds—which rarely fucking happened.
“You okay?” he whispered.
“I’m fine.” And that answer told him that she was everything but fine. Not that he could blame her.
The SUV came to a stop and Riggs got out first. As Scarlet was about to follow James out, Hunter grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
“Stay close, okay?”
Scarlet studied his face for a few seconds, and he couldn’t help but find all the similarities between her and Blue—similarities he never noticed before. Like the same heart-shaped mouth and beautiful full lips. And the same button nose with tiny little freckles you would only notice when you looked at them—really looked at them. And then, of course, the blue eyes. Iced blue eyes that seemed as if they had the brilliance of heaven burning behind them. He always said that Blue’s eyes made him believe in magic—made a believer out of him. And now that he was staring into almost the exact same eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was what he had been feeling all along. Was that strange pull he felt toward Scarlet for the last few weeks because there really was something there…or was it because his soul was sensing her? Blue.
“You’re thinking of her, aren’t you?” Scarlet narrowed her eyes. “You’re thinking of my sister.”
“Scarlet, don’t—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay close.” And with that, she got out of the car.
“Fuck,” he muttered while pulling his ha
nd through his hair. This really was one fucked-up situation.
With a deep breath Hunter stepped out of the car, and when he glanced up at the house—the motherfucker castle of all houses—he balked.
“What is this place?” he asked as he stared at the huge double-story, European styled, Georgion brick mansion. If he thought Adam had a big house, he was so wrong.
“Welcome to House Haven.” James stepped to the front while two more vans pulled up and parked next to them. He looked at Scarlet, who stood about ten feet from Hunter. So much for staying close.
“You will be safe here until we can figure this thing out with Brent.”
Scarlet crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Please enlighten me. What things exactly?”
James grinned. “Once we get you settled in, we can talk.”
“Excuse me.” Hunter waved his hand to get James’s attention. “Who said anything about getting us settled in? We agreed to come here with you, but no one said anything about staying.”
“Like I said, you will be safe here. She—” he glanced at Scarlet “—will be safe here.”
“That’s still to be determined. So I would prefer we have that talk before anyone gets settled in.” Hunter squared his shoulders while keeping James’s gaze. Did this guy actually think Hunter would just trust anyone when it came to Scarlet? Did Hunter not already make his trust issues clear toward this guy?
“Hunter is right.” Scarlet moved a little closer toward him. “I first want to talk.”
“Wouldn’t you rather get cleaned up first?” James pointed to her shirt still covered in blood from the guy Riggs had shot.
Fuck. Hunter didn’t even think about that.
“Yeah.” Hunter turned to her and lowered his voice. “Maybe you should get cleaned up first.”
“I’m fine. And no, I want to talk first.”
“Scar—”
She turned her back to him, and faced James. “Lead the way, Mr. Baxter.”
James glanced from Scarlet to Hunter, and back at Scarlet. “Fine. Follow me.”
Hunter placed his hands on his hips and sighed while silently having a cursing fest inside his mind. Why did she always have to be so damn stubborn? So determined to prove to everyone that she was as strong as bloody nails?
He quickly glanced in Riggs’s direction, and as sure as fuck he caught little soldier boy staring at Scarlet again. Hunter had already decided he didn’t like this Riggs character—at all.
Once they stepped into the mansion, Hunter tore his eyes away from Scarlet for only a few seconds to take a look around.
They stood in a stately two-story portico entrance which screamed elegance with a baronial double staircase, imported paneling, and antique fixtures that imparted a feeling of being enveloped by some kind of bygone era. Not that Hunter had any idea of bygone eras or shit like that. It just didn’t seem like a house where these guys who currently sported some impressive firearms would live.
Hunter glanced at Riggs. “So, you mentioned this was a safe house for girls? Where are these girls?”
Riggs brushed past him, purposefully shoving against Hunter’s shoulder. “Why? You need a better view?”
Hunter glared at the fucker, and said fucker glared back. Hunter’s fists started itching. “So you’re a funny man with a gun now?”
“Not in the slightest.” Riggs, who was a good few inches taller than James, stepped up next to his boss man.
James cleared his throat, obviously picking up on the tension between the two of them. “The girls stay in separate quarters. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the operation we run here, we can’t risk the girls seeing or recognizing us. Especially Riggs and me.”
Hunter cocked a brow. “What the fuck are you people in to?”
James stood to the side, gesturing toward a door on the right. “We’ll have privacy in my office.”
“After you.” Scarlet stared at James, deadpan.
When Scarlet started to follow James inside his office, Hunter grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. “Are you sure about this, Scar?”
“You’re the one who agreed to come here with these people in the first place.”
“That’s because I know you.” He tightened his grip, urging her closer. “I know that if there is even the slightest chance that this guy is telling the truth about being your father, you’d want to know.”
Her eyes glanced down to his mouth before she looked back up. And that was enough to remind him how good her lips felt against his. Warm, soft lips that demanded to take what they wanted. God, just thinking about her mouth, her tongue against his, had his cock stirring in his pants, reminding him that even after fucking Scarlet more times than he had fucked any single woman in a very long time, it was still not enough. He wanted her again, and he wanted her real fucking soon. Pun intended.
Scarlet’s eyes darkened and she leaned closer to his ear. “Do not think that because we fucked more than once that you know me. Because I can guarantee that you don’t.”
She pulled out of his grip and glared at him before turning around and heading into James’s office.
Hunter was an intelligent man, and he knew by the tone of her voice, and the daggers she glared through his forehead, that she was pissed at him. Of course, he didn’t exactly know why. Sure, there was the fact that his dead girlfriend was her sister, but it wasn’t his fault. He was just as shocked by the revelation as she was. But alas, she was pissed at him.
But he couldn’t stop himself from being turned on by her fire, her rage. He loved it…and he wanted her to take it out on him between the sheets, on the floor, the couch—wherever the fuck she wanted to.
Why the fuck, even with everything going on, could he not stop thinking about spreading her legs? Hearing her sweet, loud moans and screams of pleasure as he sunk balls deep inside her, feeling her lose control around him?
He was such a sick bastard.
Once they stepped into James’s office, he closed the door behind them. Hunter was slightly surprised to see that Riggs had also joined them.
“Does soldier boy have to be here?”
James walked over to a dark mahogany desk. “Colton here plays a very big part in the operation we run. He is also well informed on the whole Brent situation.”
Hunter lifted a brow. “Colton Riggs, huh? Sounds like a stripper name.”
Colton just snorted, and Hunter was slightly disappointed in his lack of verbal retaliation.
“Please. Have a seat.” James indicated to a brown leather couch, but Scarlet stomped toward him and leaned over his desk.
“Let’s cut the bullshit and get right to it, shall we? I don’t have all damn day. You say you’re my father, but can you prove it?”
James reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the picture he’d held in his hand earlier before placing it on the table, face up, in front of Scarlet.
She stiffened before slowly reaching for it. “My God.”
Chapter 4
It was a picture of her mother holding a tiny little baby girl in her arms. The baby had a delicate little ribbon tied around her head, sleeping peacefully in her mother’s arms. The baby was her. Scarlet…Blanchette.
“Turn it around.”
Scarlet glanced up at James before turning the picture in her hand. On the back was a message in a handwriting Scarlet would recognize anywhere.
My beloved J,
She’s perfect.
A beautiful reminder of our love.
I only wish I could share her with you.
All my love, always.
K.
P.S., I named her after your mother.
“Blanchette was your mother’s name?” Scarlet kept staring at the note on the back of the picture.
“It was, yes.”
She closed her eyes, trying hard to push back the ache that was slowly making its way up inside her chest. The kind of ache only a daughter could feel over losing a mother. The day her mother died so unexpectedly
broke the young girl inside her. She could remember that day like it was yesterday. Denial was her friend then—and for three days after that. It was only at the funeral, when Scarlet saw Willow bent down over their mother’s casket, that reality hit her right in the gut.
She never made it to the casket that day. Her legs were unable to carry her all the way down the aisle. Uncontrollable sobs wracked her body as she fell to her knees, crying like she had never cried before. There was so much pain inside her, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted to claw through her own skin, to reach deep into her soul and rip out the pain just so that she could breathe. All she wanted was to breathe…but she couldn’t. That day was one of the worst days of her life.
Feeling dangerously close to crying as that familiar pain of loss started to consume her, Scarlet tossed the picture on the desk.
“This doesn’t prove anything.”
James walked to the other side of his office, and carefully removed a painting of a lake with birds flying above it from the wall, revealing a hidden vault.
“I had a feeling you would say that.”
He turned the lock and the vault opened.
From the corner of her eye she saw Hunter move closer to her. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a part of her that was glad he was there. His presence somehow comforted her—calmed her.
James handed Scarlet a brown envelope. “All the proof you need is in there.”
“What is this?”
“Every letter, every photo, every movie ticket we ever bought while we were together is in that envelope.”
“You kept it?”
“I kept everything.”
Scarlet and James stared at each other, and something told her that he wasn’t lying. She could see it on his face. The way his eyes seemed like they were on the brink of bleeding with unshed heartache, and the way he stared at her with so much regret plastered all over his face—all of that told her the man in front of her was telling the truth.
Desperately trying to keep her composure, to not show any weakness, Scarlet turned around and walked to the other side of the couch, still clutching the brown envelope in her hands.