by Coralee June
A Lovely Confession: The Debt of Passion Duet
Copyright © 2020 by June Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing by Helayna Trask with Polished Perfection
Cover design by Olivia Pro Design
Book design by Inkstain Design Studio
Sometimes, I wondered if he was real.
Our time together was short, but it left a lasting impression on me.
I’m older now. Wiser, too.
Five years have passed, and I still can’t get him off my mind.
Hunter was cruel, angry, and protective.
I learned his secrets, and he fled.
The day he left, I vowed to find him.
I guess now I have an obsession of my own:
Track down Hunter Hammond and make him mine.
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
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
For the broken heart I ripped from my chest and planted in the ground. Thank you for growing into the oak tree I shade my family with. Thank you for teaching me that life blooms from broken things.
ROE
I fucking loved throwing punches. A cool bead of sweat dripped down my chest and onto my bare abs. My muscles ached with each swing of my fist. I had been jabbing at this bag for hours. Throbbing pain shot down my spine and warmed my shoulders. Every tendon was burning from use. I didn’t even know what time it was, but I knew it was late enough for club-goers to drunkenly saunter by on the sidewalk outside. Downtown Denver was alive and thriving.
I wasn’t just working out, I was feeding my demons.
The twenty-four-hour gym I frequented smelled like sweat and body odor. Vintage motivational posters lined the walls in bright orange frames, and the various workout equipment was worn down from use. The gym was old and small and probably a health hazard, but it was all I could afford on my salary. Working at a local bookstore was fun and allowed me the freedom to write on the job, but it didn’t pay very well.
A couple of off-duty night-shift cops I regularly saw here were lifting weights in the corner. They occasionally glanced my way when I grunted, but I didn’t care. I had frustrations to work through.
I bounced on my feet. My shins burned. My forearms ached. My jaw throbbed from how hard I was clenching my teeth. I welcomed the pain. Pain made people change.
I started boxing lessons six months after Hunter left. It seemed like the only way to get the anger out. And I had a lot of anger. Tonight, I had more anger than usual. I woke up this morning with fury flowing through my veins. I knew what day it was the moment my eyes opened. I had been dreading it all year. I had a lot of reasons to hate October fourth.
It was the day my father died while trying to collect a debt.
It was the day I found my mother’s dead body.
It was the day I first spoke to Hunter Hammond.
Five years had passed since he fucked me on the floor of his cabin, drugged me, and disappeared. In many ways, I moved on. I got stronger. Smarter. Independent. I went to community college, then finished my English degree online with University of Phoenix while working at a bookshop—without taking a single dime of Hunter Hammond’s money. He’d left me quite a bit of cash laced with his guilt when he vanished, but I wanted nothing to do with it. It still sat in the bank, untouched.
Despite the personal and physical growth I’d managed over the years, I still couldn’t shake him. I still looked around corners, hoping to find him watching me. I still stared at the camera on my phone, wondering if he was watching. Every time Mack called me, I still asked if he’d heard from Hunter, and every time I was answered with vacancy. He really was gone.
I licked at the sweat on my upper lip and threw my body into a final punch. The impact boomed and made my entire body vibrate. It felt fucking good. Almost better than sex.
Almost.
I gasped for air. My heart was racing, endorphins and pleasure rolling through me. I breathed heavily as I walked over to the bench and unwrapped my hands. The moment my fists were free of the tape, I stretched out my knuckles, uncurling my fingers and watching them shake.
One of the other regulars at the gym passed by me, and we exchanged an exhausted nod of solidarity. I never thought I would be the type of girl to spend all her free time at the gym, but it became a regular part of my routine. I liked to work until I was drenched in sweat and trembling from exhaustion. I liked to run until my lungs felt like they were on fire. This safe haven was a controlled space for working out my demons. The last few years had turned me into quite the masochist.
And when I wasn’t purging sweat from my pores, I was looking for him.
I could hear my phone ringing in my duffel bag. I already knew who it was. Nicole Knight was determined as hell. I guess that’s why we got along so well. You had to be committed to be in any sort of friendship with me. Maybe Hunter’s commitment issues were why he left.
I let it ring, not ready to deal with her insistence, but when she started calling again, I reached in my bag and pulled it out with a sigh.
“Hello?” I answered breathlessly.
“Where are you?” she asked in a whine. Her voice was like congested bells. “I thought you’d be home by now. I have a surprise for you.” I listened as she let out a squeal. Despite my broody mood, I cracked a smile at her excitement.
“Nicole,” I began in exasperation. She knew how I felt about my birthday. “I really hope you aren’t planning anything. We’ve talked about this.”
Nicole Knight was my best friend and, aside from Joel, my only friend. Getting to know me was like digging with your bare hands through cement, but that woman had claws of steel. She knew about Hunter. About my mother. About my fears. My likes. My dislikes. She probably knew what color my underwear was today simply because she had no personal boundaries and liked to storm into my bedroom while I got ready for the day.
With my free hand, I grabbed a towel and started wiping my face. My hair was drenched. My sports bra clung to my skin like a suction cup. “It’s not a birthday party,” she explained. “It’s a housewarming party. I thought we should celebrate the new apartment.”
“The apartment we moved into a year and a half ago?” I deadpanned. That sounded like an awfully big loophole, but I wasn’t about to argue. Nicole and I had been roommates ever since our high school graduation. We went to Denver Community College together, but she dropped out her sophomore year to become a stripper—and damn did she finally catch her parents’ attention. They completely cut her off, and she finally accepted that they cared more about their careers than her. She still stripped, and she was pretty good at it, too. Last month Nicole mentioned going back to school for her business degree so she could open a club of her own. She was no longer pretending to be the wild child for her parents’ sake
. She’d owned up to her sexuality and really found herself.
When I switched to online classes at University of Phoenix, we decided to move closer to the club where she worked. I loved the location. Rent was pretty much my entire salary at the bookstore where I worked, but we got a very good deal. Nicole promised me that if I was ever short on rent, I could easily make the money up at the club where she worked. I have yet to take her up on that offer, though sometimes when I saw her fat stacks of cash, I considered it.
We didn’t live a grand life. We didn’t go off to our dream college or leave Colorado. But we made it work. We found adventures in the survival of it all.
“I really hope you didn’t invite a lot of people,” I said with a sigh. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to people. My head had been a very dark place all day. Hunter had been on my mind. I was almost ashamed of myself for still fantasizing about a man I hadn’t seen in five years. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t help but compulsively think back on our first conversation in the woods. When I closed my eyes, I could still smell his rosewood scent and hear his honey voice.
I’m not going to kiss you…
Why not?
Because I’m not some creep preying on high school girls.
I scoffed at the memory. You would think, after all this time, I would’ve let him go, but I couldn’t for some reason.
“Just come home already. It’ll be fun,” Nicole whined once more. I pictured her stomping her stilettos in our kitchen with her petite arms crossed over her chest. “I have a really awesome surprise that took a lot of planning.”
A surprise? That sounded awful. I couldn’t stay at the gym forever, though. “Okay. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes,” I replied before hanging up. I wanted to punch the bags until I passed out, but Nicole would’ve probably dragged me out of here, kicking and screaming, if I didn’t show up soon. That woman had superhuman stripper strength.
Maybe this would be a good thing. Maybe it would be the first step to celebrating my birthday. I could handle a housewarming party.
The walk home was short, and like a bad habit, I found myself looking over my shoulder for shadows lurking there. It was wishful thinking to hope that Hunter was following me, watching me. And when I took the elevator up to the seventh floor of my building, I stared at the security camera in the corner, daring Hunter to watch me get home.
I was pathetic.
The apartment was surprisingly quiet when I slid my key into the lock and turned the knob. Inside, all the lights were on, and the blinds were open, revealing the Denver city lights. I really did love our apartment. The open floor plan and chic decor was all Nicole’s idea. It wasn’t cluttered, and the furniture was minimalistic and comfortable. During the day, every inch of space was illuminated with natural light, thanks to the large, sweeping windows.
“Hello?” I said while setting my duffel bag on the kitchen island and rolling my neck. If this was Nicole’s idea of a housewarming party, then I was all for it. No one was here.
“Hey there, kid,” a gruff voice said from the hallway. I recognized it instantly. No way. I spun around and grinned.
“Mack?” My voice shook with disbelief. I was shocked to see him. Mack moved back to New York two years ago, and I hadn’t really seen him since. Our relationship was strained at best. I struggled to trust him when I found out he was hired, then hated him when he wouldn’t tell me where Hunter went.
But at the end of the day, he was the only family I had. I still loved him—but at a distance. We spent holidays together when we could, and he called like clockwork every Friday afternoon. Our relationship had evolved to a comfortable dynamic, though sometimes I missed the simplicity from when it was just the two of us in our tiny house. Back before I knew about Hunter. Back before I knew my entire life was an orchestrated attempt at forgetting a debt.
I ran up to him and wrapped him in a big hug. “You smell awful,” he choked before pulling away. Nicole’s desperate threats to get me home didn’t give me much time to shower, so I took a Febreze bath and hoped for the best.
“I was at the gym,” I explained sheepishly. Mack wrapped his beefy hand around my wrist and lifted my arm up. With this free hand, he squeezed my bicep and made a low whistle of amazement.
“I wouldn’t want to get into a fight with you. You’ve been toning up,” he admired, and I smiled. That was kind of the idea. Over the last five years, I’d somehow found a way to bridge my mother’s fear of death with my need to feel free. Instead of conquering those fears by going into hiding, I made myself strong enough to handle whatever came my way. I wouldn’t say I felt invincible. But I did feel more capable than before.
“You think I could take you, old man?” I asked teasingly.
“Probably. I’m no spring chicken anymore.”
I playfully flexed at him and made a face. He chuckled for a long while, then locked his eyes on the script tattooed on my arm. “When did you get this?”
I looked at my forearm and smiled at the script there.
Let your damage breathe.
“Few months ago,” I replied with a shrug.
“I remember when I told you that,” Mack said in awe. His eyes started to fill with moisture. It was probably the most emotion I’ve seen from the man in my entire life.
“Guess it stuck with me,” I replied.
Mack and I chuckled and caught up for a little bit, though he evaded my questions about what he was up to in New York. I had assumed that he still worked for the Bullets with Hunter, but didn’t know for sure. Part of me wanted answers, but I also had experienced firsthand the consequences of getting involved with gang activity. I’d almost died because of it.
Mack complimented our apartment and asked me about work and my writing. The last couple of weeks, I’d been unable to write. My birthday liked to muzzle my muse, turning her into nothing but a whisper, but she would find me again.
“Where’s Nicole?” I asked finally.
As if summoned by my question, Nicole came barreling through the front door, carrying a white pastry box. Behind her was Joel. “It’s time to party, bitches!” Nicole shouted in greeting. Mack squeezed the bridge of his nose, and I just shook my head while grinning at Joel. Nicole was wearing a mini skirt and black tights with a pink crop top tied at her bellybutton. Her pixie hair was perfectly styled, and her long fake eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks.
Joel was staring at her ass but quickly remembered that he was living in the friendzone and accordingly dragged his gaze to me. He smiled, his teeth bright and warm. Joel still had those piercing blue eyes but had grown paler since getting a job bartending at a nightclub. We jokingly called him a vampire on occasion.
“Happy birth—housewarming,” Joel said, correcting himself mid-sentence. Nicole put the box on the kitchen island, then elbowed him in the ribs. Joel and Nicole didn’t last very long on the relationship front, but all of us ended up making our weird friendship work. Once the angsty teenage love triangle had worn off, Joel was actually a decent friend to have. He sometimes caught himself flirting, but we were determined to not go down that path. Joel even lived in the same building as us. We would’ve gotten a three-bedroom, but we decided we didn’t want to meet all the girls that Joel liked to bring home every night. He had terrible taste in women—not including us.
He was one of the few people who knew Hunter existed—who witnessed the full story. Sometimes, I’d wondered if those few short weeks were even real. It was nice knowing I wasn’t crazy. I had a habit of getting lost in my own head. Joel and Nicole were always the people to pull me back out.
“I got a housewarming cheesecake to celebrate,” Nicole said while clapping her hands.
“And I swiped some top-shelf whiskey from the club,” Joel added, shrugging.
“I don’t even like whiskey,” I replied with an eye roll and curled lip of disgust. “I’m more of a boxed wine gal now.”
“But I like whiskey,” Joel teased. “I mean, if it were your birthd
ay, I might have gotten you some chardonnay, but since we’re only celebrating a housewarming, it’s BYOB, bitches,” Joel replied with a cackle. “Shit,” Joel began. “I’m going to go grab some edibles from upstairs. Anyone want some?”
“No, thank you,” I replied with a giggle, and at the same time Nicole said, “Hell yes!”
Mack offered to accompany Joel so he could see his video game collection, and they both disappeared out of the front door.
Once they were gone, I hugged Nicole. “How’d you get Mack here?” I asked.
“I called,” she replied simplistically. “It wasn’t that hard to convince him. I think he’d visit a lot more; he’s just waiting for you to invite him.”
She was right. Things were just weird between us. I wanted to go back to how we were before, but I didn’t know how. I guess Mack didn’t know how either.
“I want you to think of a housewarming wish,” Nicole said while clapping her hands together. “I won’t make you blow out any candles, but you have to tell me what you wish for.”
She looked thoroughly proud of herself. “Do you get a housewarming wish?” I asked with one eyebrow raised.
“I already got mine. Joel is bringing edibles, remember?”
“Riiiiight,” I replied. “Mack being here is my wish.”
“Nope. Not good enough. Think of a wish, any wish.”
I bit my lip to keep my mouth from forming a name that was banned in our house. Nicole was really adamant that I move on from my obsession. She didn’t understand why I was still holding on. How could I possibly explain to her that he was rooted in my past, a shadow that had always been there and always would be? She didn’t like how I was always looking up mysterious deaths online, trying to trace them back to a hoodie-wearing assassin. She didn’t like that I obsessed over his name. I typed it into Google more times than I could count.
She wasn’t outwardly cruel about it. She understood that I had fixated on him for reasons neither of us could explain. She entertained me but didn’t encourage me, and I didn’t want to ruin our night with the sight of her disappointment.
