by Bella J.
She loosened her hair and he watched as her long, dark strands with a few red streaks fell around her oval-shaped face. The dark hair made her blue almond-shaped eyes stand out, like she had the power to look straight through to one’s soul. An angel—a supernatural force able to bring a man—him—to his fucking knees.
Scarlet cleared her throat. “I think you should give the man the benefit of the doubt.”
“Oh, like he did when he wanted to rip my head off yesterday?”
Scarlet shrugged. “You pissed him off.”
“I’ve seemed to piss a lot of people off during the last two days.”
They kept their gazes locked on one another. Everything inside him was begging him to go over there and take her in his arms. But he couldn’t be sure if it was the part of him that missed and mourned Blue, or the part of him that longed for and needed the woman sitting right in front of him.
Scarlet looked away first, focusing her gaze on the floor beneath her feet. “She wanted me to meet you.”
Hunter remained quiet.
“Willow. She told me the day before she died that she had agreed to run away with you. And she asked me to take her to you so that I could finally meet you.” She looked up at him. “I was going to meet this mysterious H my sister had been seeing for months.”
He took a sip of the whiskey, needing the sting of the alcohol. Talking about Blue with the woman he had fucked more than once who also turned out to be related to his dead girlfriend was not on his most-comfortable-topics-to-talk-about list.
Scarlet sighed and fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “When she told me she was running away with you, I hated you. I hated you for taking my sister away from me. But when she held that chain you gave her in her hands, I could see that look in her eyes. The look you only see on young girls who are in love. I wanted to beg her to stay, but I couldn’t ask her to choose between me and the man she loved. Even though I knew I would never survive it on my own…with him.”
Hunter heard the pain in her voice, the torment, and it killed him. It felt like his own heart was bleeding inside of his chest—feeling her pain. Taking his glass, he got up, walked over, and sat down on the bed next to her, not saying a word.
“She loved you, Ace. Willow really loved you.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, and fell back on the mattress, both of them staring up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m sorry for losing it yesterday. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I did. I deserved all of it.”
“No. You didn’t.” She turned to him, and he faced her as well. “Just like me, you didn’t know how all this would play out. The whole Blue, Willow connection is something neither of us could have seen coming.” She closed her eyes. “It wasn’t just you yesterday. It was everything. It was James, Willow…him.”
“I know.”
When she opened her eyes, her piercing blue stare bore right into him. “Yet you still let me do it. You still let me take it all out on you.”
“You needed to.” He shifted his hand next to his side just an inch and felt his pinky softly brush against hers. “And for some reason I seem to keep on wanting to give you what you need.”
She didn’t move her hand away, but he also didn’t attempt to further the touch. There was no denying that he saw Blue in Scarlet’s eyes, but for a moment, he saw the Scarlet he had seen a few days ago, before the whole Blue slash Willow saga erupted. He saw the woman he had rescued outside of Twisted Fable. The woman riding that damn Kawasaki motorcycle, making him so damn hard thinking of the power she could handle between her legs. The woman who was handcuffed to his couch wearing nothing but a black bra and leather pants. The woman whose mouth annoyed the living shit out of him, yet turned him on like a damn house on fire.
He also saw the woman who succumbed, who surrendered her body and mind to him for one night while he had her tied up, making her body his playground. That night, something shifted between them, the trust she showed in him—the trust he begged her to have in him. For the short while between that night and what followed the next morning, Hunter found himself thinking that there might be something worth sticking around for. Scarlet was the exact opposite of what he searched for in a woman. And there might be physical resemblances between her and Blue, but they couldn’t have been more different.
But one thing was starting to become clear—he was starting to care more for Scarlet than he thought would ever be possible for a man like him. And the more he lay there staring into her eyes, his finger still touching hers, the more he found himself wanting to stay. Wanting to keep her even after all this was over—which was a real bad thing…for him.
“I’m sorry, Scar.”
“I know.”
He felt the slight movement of her finger against his, and his gaze flitted down to her lips. So close. Her lips were so close to his, he could practically taste them already. All he could think about was kissing her, getting drunk on her taste. He inched forward, licking his lips.
“Ace?”
He paused. “Yeah?”
“Don’t kiss me.” She didn’t move. “I’m afraid that if you do, I won’t be able to stop.”
“And that would be bad?”
“Yeah.”
Hunter leaned forward more, his mouth so close to hers he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. He could see her pulse starting to race just by glancing at the vein in her neck, and she didn’t attempt to pull away. “I never thought about her while I was with you, Scar. Not once. Yesterday was the first time. All the other times I was inside you, it was only you and no one else. You need to know that.”
He continued to stare at her for a few seconds more before he pulled away and got up. As he reached the door, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “I truly am sorry, Scar.” And then he left.
He had said what he needed to say. She needed to know that all the times he was with her, it was just them. Blue was never there. Not once. Not like with all the others he had screwed over the years where all he would see was her face while he was buried deep in some woman’s pussy.
It was different with Scarlet. He might not have realized it right away, but after all the boulders of shit that came tumbling down around them, now he realized it. If he ever had another chance at love, it would have been with her—with Scarlet.
But that ship had sailed, and it was no longer an option.
Chapter 12
“Tomorrow?” Scarlet stared at James.
“Yes. Riggs setup the meeting with the lawyers for tomorrow.” He leaned forward over his desk with a worried expression on his face. “Brent will be there.”
“What?” Hunter jumped up, knocking over a little side table. “No way in hell. There’s no fucking way she’s going near that son of a bitch.”
“It’s natural for him to be there. He has power of attorney. He has to be there.”
“Has to be there my fucking ass. No. No fucking way.”
Scarlet rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine developing. “Hunter, calm down. I can handle it.”
His eyes darted toward her. “Yeah? Well, I can’t.”
As they stood there staring at each other, it felt like his gaze bled into hers. The determination, the desperation carved into his expression made her heart thrum against her ribs. It was almost like he…cared.
“This is how it is, Ace. There’s no working around him being there.”
Hunter looked at James. “There has to be another way.”
James shrugged. “Unfortunately, there isn’t. Believe me, I’m not thrilled about him being there either.”
“Are you going?” Hunter asked him.
James shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t risk him seeing me. He’s already established some very good connections, and—”
“He can’t see your face,” Hunter sneered. “I get it.”
“She’ll be safe, Hunter. Riggs will go with her.”
“What?�
� Hunter peered at Riggs and then at James. “Him?” He pointed at Riggs, and James nodded.
“Riggs will take care of her. I trust him.”
“Well, I don’t. If he goes, I go.”
Colton moved closer. “I’ll take care of her.”
“Baxter, I do not trust soldier boy here. Let me go with.”
Colton held up his hand. “I’m right here, you know that, right?”
“Shut up.” Hunter didn’t even glance in his direction.
Scarlet huffed. “Ace, calm down. I got this.”
“I’m going with. I don’t care if the fucking president of the United States orders me not to. I’m going.”
“Fine.” James tossed his arms in the air. “Fine. You can go with.”
“Sir.” Colton walked up to the desk. “I can handle this. Your daughter will be safe with me. There is no need for him to go too.” Colton glared at Hunter. “I don’t need to babysit his ass as well.”
“Ha-ha. Why don’t you just go fuck yourself, soldier boy?” Hunter sneered.
Colton straightened. “Or maybe I should finish what I started the other day.”
Hunter stepped forward and came within inches of Colton’s face. “Go ahead. Give me a reason to rip your fucking head off.”
“Okay.” Scarlet moved herself between the two men, facing Hunter. “Let’s just calm down. I think enough punches have been thrown the last twenty-four hours.”
Hunter and Colton kept glaring at each other like they were already telepathically beating the shit out of each other’s faces. They were both about the same height, although Hunter definitely had the weight advantage with muscle—and probably balls too.
Colton placed his hand on Scarlet’s shoulder and urged her to turn toward him. Even though he was no threat, the touch felt wrong somehow. Like her skin rejected it.
As she turned around he said, “I will keep you safe, Scarlet. I failed you once. I won’t fail you again.”
There was something in his eyes as he stared her. Something pure, a kind of softness Scarlet wasn’t used to. Even with Hunter, his hauntingly green eyes always somehow mirrored the pain he carried around on the inside. But with Colton, his dark brown eyes didn’t seem as stormy or as raging as Hunter’s.
It was just strange since she heard Colton’s story about looking for his sister. There had to be some deep cuts, a kind of torment that fueled his need to find his sister by delving into this world with James. But you would never be able to guess it by looking into his eyes. He looked like the regular guy next door. The good guy. The type of guy Scarlet had once—years ago—imagined falling in love with. The safe kind of guy.
“Riggs, I swear to God if you don’t remove your hand right now, you will lose it,” Hunter threatened from behind her.
Naturally, being a typical male, Colton didn’t remove his hand immediately. He had to grin at Hunter like he was wondering how far he would be able to push him. And knowing Ace, this was the worst possible time to test his patience.
Scarlet shrugged Colton’s hand off her shoulder and stepped away, plopping down on the couch. “I just want this over with.”
“And it will be,” James said. “You’ve been running for years from this bastard. Tomorrow, it will all be over.”
Hunter tore his glare away from Colton. “By the fucking way. Should we not be getting his ass arrested tomorrow? Or even better—kill his ass?”
James shook his head. “God knows I want nothing more than to skin that bastard alive, but, unfortunately, we need him.”
“For what?”
“Like I said, he has already established some deep connections. Connections that we haven’t been able to get. We need him.”
And then Hunter let out a loud, mocking laugh. “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”
James kept a straight face. “Unfortunately, I’m not.”
“The son of a bitch raped your daughter, and you’re telling me you’re going to do nothing?”
Scarlet felt like her gut had been instantly filled with concrete. Flashes of the scenes that took place in the barn years ago infested her mind, tearing at her insides. She hated when that happened. It was like she had to use all her energy just to be able to push those memories aside.
James squared his shoulders. “Like I said, we need him.”
“How the hell are you planning on using his connections anyway? It’s not like he’s going to offer them up to you on a silver…” Hunter paused, and Scarlet watched as he glanced from James to Colton, and then back to James. It was like she could literally see the wheels turn inside his head.
“That’s why soldier boy is taking her tomorrow, isn’t it?” Hunter glanced at Colton again. “You’re using this opportunity to establish your own damn connection…with him.”
“I will not discuss this any further,” James said sternly. “You and Riggs are taking her to the lawyers tomorrow to get those documents signed, and then you’re bringing her straight back here. We’ll think about future plans once all this is done.”
Scarlet would be lying if she said that hearing all of this didn’t make her nervous. This was not part of the plan, and if Hunter hadn’t been the observant fucker that he was, James probably never would have shared this tidbit of information with them.
Hunter went to stand in front of James’s desk and leaned forward. “If anything—and I mean anything—goes wrong tomorrow, I am holding you responsible.” He inched forward some more. “And if she so much as breaks a fucking nail, I will break your goddamn spine.”
Scarlet had had enough. Enough of all the threats and hearing how everyone was going to kill everyone.
She stood up from the couch. “I need air.”
“Where are you going?” Hunter rushed toward her.
“I’m can’t stay cramped up in this place a second longer.”
Colton snorted. “Cramped up? Scarlet, this is a twenty-eight-bedroom estate.”
Hunter glared his way. “I couldn’t get her to stay one day at a luxury mansion in Winnetka without following her ass to a damn bar. Consider yourself lucky she’s stayed put here for the last two days.”
Scarlet glowered at him. “You’re so fucking funny—not.”
He smirked, and, unfortunately, she noticed how fucking sexy that smirk of his was. Even with all the cuts and bruises on his face—which made him seem even more badass than he already was—that smirk would be her fucking undoing. Clenching her thighs was like an automatic response whenever that devilish grin appeared on his face.
Fuck.
“Fuck air, I need a drink.” She stomped out of the office and straight to the little man-cave-bar Colton showed her the day before.
Jack had better be there.
The need to consume her weight in alcohol was so strong, Scarlet flung open the door with such force it slammed against the wall.
A glass filled with whiskey was ready for her in five point two seconds flat.
This twenty-eight-bedroom mansion was starting to feel like a damn prison. Not to mention the so-called rehabilitation center next door, which Scarlet hadn’t seen yet…and probably never would. According to James, there were girls there, but the only girl she’d seen since they arrived was Lily—the girl who always brought fresh towels.
“Are you planning on keeping that bottle to yourself?”
She looked up and saw Hunter leaning against the door, the epitome of confidence. Just the sight of him had her insides coiled tight.
“Until someone tries to take it from me.”
“Will you punch that person in the face too?”
“Probably.”
He cocked a brow.
“Okay, definitely.”
He smiled and shook his head as he made his way over to the bar. Every step he took was like he owned the fucking floor he walked on. The way he carried himself, the swagger and the confidence as he walked that big, strong, ripped body of his toward her, had Scarlet swallowing hard. It would
n’t have been that bad if she hadn’t experienced firsthand just how powerful that body of his was—especially pushed firmly against hers, rocking her body to ecstasy. Scarlet had to clench her thighs for the second time in one day to get some relief from the ache that started between her legs.
“Care to share a little Jack?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head slightly in order to focus. When she pulled out a glass and started filling it, her hand was shaking. Naturally, since Hunter was the most observant damn man she had ever met…he noticed.
“What’s the matter, Scar?”
“Nothing.”
“You look a little flushed.”
“I’m not…” Scarlet glanced up at the roof and huffed. “I’m not flushed.”
“You sure? Your cheeks are all pink, and that vein in the side of your neck seems like it’s going apeshit.”
“Oh my God.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “What the hell are you doing, Ace?”
He shrugged and picked up his drink. “Nothing. Just observing.”
“Why? Why are you observing?”
Green eyes narrowed at her. “Because I want to.”
“Well, go observe someone else. I’m not in the mood for games.” She grabbed her drink, rounded the bar, and made a beeline for the door. That was before a strong hand grabbed her arm and swung her around, making her drop her glass to the floor.
A breath escaped her with a huff as he pushed her against the wall—hard—pinning her hands above her head.
“Hunter, what the hell are you doing?”
“Why is this so fucking difficult?” He fixed his green-eyed gaze on hers.
“What are you talking about?”
“You. This. Everything. Everything is just so goddamn difficult.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Just turn your back and walk away. It’s as simple as that.”
“You think I haven’t tried?” He pushed his body harder against hers. “You think I haven’t thought about just walking away without ever looking back? I can’t, Scar. I just can’t walk away from you.” He slammed his fist into the wall behind her. “Why in the name of fuck can’t I walk away from you?