I wish I understood why he’d vanished so suddenly. He can’t have found out, surely? I’m paranoid that someone will, but I’ve covered my tracks carefully enough and given little away.
Funny how I never intended to tell him anything but he still found out more about me than anyone else. And yet I know nothing about him. I debate calling him when I get home but I really don’t want to listen to any excuses. I pause in the hallway outside my door. Should I call him? Hunter was always honest. Perhaps he might tell me the truth about why he dropped out of my life as suddenly as he’d entered it and I won’t be left wondering why. I’m not sure I can face it though.
I traipse down the stairs, avoiding touching the filthy metal railing. Downstairs, I pause at the mailboxes to pick up any letters. I don’t get much post seeing as I’m trying my best to stay ‘off grid’ but the odd college letter arrives. A pink envelope sits in my slot and I stop breathing.
I grab it and flip it over. My insides bunch when I spot the careful cursive on the front. No address, no stamp. Only my name. Bile rises in my throat and with trembling hands, I open it.
The paper is floral and scented. The smell makes me wrinkle my nose.
There’s one line of writing on it in the same handwriting. One line that scares me more than anything else could.
I know who you are.
My knees threaten to give way and I expel a sob. After all this time, someone has figured me out. Everything I’ve worked for is ruined. A person comes in the door behind me and I spin wildly, stuffing the letter into my bag. I let loose a breath when I recognize the woman as one of the occupants from the floor below. She doesn’t acknowledge me when she brushes past and grabs her mail.
The vague notion it could be Hunter strikes, but it doesn’t ring true. Whatever I foolishly believed about him might be wrong but why drop out of my life to start tormenting me?
Which means someone else knows about my past. But who? Hunter was the first person I let get close and even he never knew. A colleague from work perhaps? Or one of my old friends? Pete? I shake my head and crumple the paper into a tiny ball. Pete and my friends wanted nothing to do with me. If they somehow found out where I’d gone, they wouldn’t resort to sneaky messages and flowers. No, they’d come right out and say it. Knowing Pete, he’d have turned up somewhere nice and public and showed everyone the real me.
Dots swim in front of my eyes and my knees really do buckle. I sink down onto the grimy tiled floor and rest my back against the mailboxes. What do I do now? I can’t afford to move again. I can’t think how someone’s figured it out. Few people knew my stage name. I mean, that was the whole point of being Trinity Sparks—to protect my identity. Only the production company and my old friends can connect them.
A young mum with a baby on her hip comes in through the front door and I jump to standing, regretting the movement when my head spins. She gives me an odd look before heading up the steps. My pulse thuds in my ears and I pull out my phone to glance at the time. I need to get to work.
Sucking in a breath, I force myself to step outside and dart a look around. I blink in the sunlight and scan the busy street. No one suspicious. No figures lurking in dark corners or people waiting to taunt me. I swipe a hand down my trousers and start walking to the bus stop. Maybe it was just some crazy person and they don’t really know anything. It’s probably my paranoia making it worse.
Yes, that’s it. I draw my shoulders straight. My fears are making this into something it’s not. I mean, they haven’t come out and said who they think I am. And it’s only a couple of bunches of flowers and a few notes. Someone playing a twisted game with me. The knot in my stomach tightens when I consider they know where I live and work. But what else can I do?
I reach the bus stop as the red bus turns up and I file on behind the queue of waiting passengers. After handing over my travel card, I slot myself in between the people standing at the front and grip the railing while trying not to see everyone else a potential psycho. No point in blowing it out of proportion yet, I tell myself. It’s probably nothing.
It’s at times like this I wish I had someone to talk things over with. My throat aches as my heart squeezes. Someone like Hunter.
Chapter Thirteen
Hunter
Mitch greets me with a quick grin and places a pint in front of me as I settle into the booth in our usual haunt. Connor looks up from the pool table to give me a wave, brushing his fair hair from his eyes.
I scowl at Mitch. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
Leaning against the pool cue, Mitch gives me a once over. “I had a job, man. Had to go out of the country quick. Besides, I tried calling and you didn’t answer.”
Yeah, I was still stewing from what I’d found out. Couldn’t even face my best friend. “You were meant to be keeping an eye on Jess.”
“She wasn’t having any of it. Besides, I don’t think she’s in danger anymore and neither does she. I told her to call if she needed anything but frankly, I don’t think she wants anything to do with either of us anymore.” He frowns. “You look a damned wreck.”
I bite back a groan. I am a wreck. “Thanks.” I take a lengthy drink of my pint and relish the cool tang.
“Jess didn’t look much better, you know.”
Eyes narrow, I glare at Mitch and try to ignore the stab of my heart. He can have no idea how much I’ve missed her. How I regret my words. How I’ve battled with myself. She’s a porn star. How could I look her in the eyes after finding that out? And with a history like that, it doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to realize the accusations of theft must be true.
“Glad you could finally grace us with your presence,” Connor says with a grin as he strolls over. “You’re up, Mitch.”
“How’s it going, Connor?” I ask as he slips into the booth opposite while Mitch pots.
“Not bad. Busy as usual. Though not as busy as you it seems. I can’t remember the last time you’ve blown us off three weeks running.”
I grimace. “I’ve had a lot on.”
“Hey, I get that running your own business takes up time. You know I get that more than anyone, but you need to take a break too. You look exhausted.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
He’s right though. I haven’t slept in a week and it has nothing to do with work. Well, maybe it started with work but now it’s just Jess. I haven’t worked all week. Haven’t even contacted the client in spite of his many calls and texts. I couldn’t bring myself to. Connor might run his own business—a motorcycle chop shop—but he has no idea the crap I’ve been dealing with these past weeks.
“Mitch said you’ve had women problems.”
“Something like that.”
Connor chuckles. “Well, you know where I am if you need advice. I’ve had my fair share of woman problems unlike our friend here. His only problem is making sure they don’t run into each other.”
Mitch approaches, a smug look on his face and I glance over at the table to see he’s won. Connor follows suit and groans.
“Next round is on you, man,” Mitch announces as he puts the pool cue away.
“Like usual.”
I laugh and a little tension seems to slip from my shoulders. I’ve been sitting around like a damned heartbroken teenager all week, barely eating, hardly sleeping. All I’ve been able to think of is Jess and the image of her stripping off her clothes for the camera. And if I’ve been lucky enough to be able to sleep, I dream of her. Images of her undressing for me, and only me, quickly turn into full blown porn films in my imaginings. With Pete, and anyone else I know, fucking her. I grip my pint and try to concentrate on what Connor is saying but it’s a challenge.
Mitch sits next to me and slaps a hand to my back. “You ever going to suck it up and go apologize, Hunter? What happened anyway?”
“Nothing,” I reply lamely, aware of my grumbling tone.
I really don’t want to explain that I’ve fallen for a criminal and she turned out to be a
porn star and now I suspect I might be nursing a broken heart. She’s like an addiction, that woman, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. There’s no patch or replacement drug for Jess. I’d hoped coming out tonight would help and while I feel better for it, the idea of going back to my place, alone, just to dream of Jess again fills me with dread.
“Don’t you want to hear how it went with Holly?”
I blink.
“The info you wanted? On Jess?” Mitch clarifies.
“Doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“What’s it to you?”
“She’s a nice girl.”
“Stay away from her,” I growl.
“Hey, all I said was she’s a nice girl. She’s been through a lot of crap.” He sighs. “You don’t want to know why she ran away then?”
“No.” I’m not sure I want to know. My gut churns. “Why?”
“Looks like the aunt’s husband was an abuser.”
The blood in my veins feels like it turns to ice water. “What?”
“Yeah.” Mitch sighs. “The wife—Jessica’s aunt—left him and changed her name when it all came out. Someone reported him for sexual abuse but I guess it never stuck because nothing happened to him. However, the wife must have thought it was true as she reverted back to her old name and moved away. Never divorced him though. Guess she wanted nothing more to do with him. But that would explain why you couldn’t trace her.”
“Godammit.” I slap my palm on the table. “Asshole. Why didn’t she ever say?”
Mitch shrugs. “Sometimes it’s easier just to outrun your past rather than deal with it, I guess.”
Mitch’s words ring in my mind. Isn’t that what I’ve been doing? Running away, avoiding my responsibilities?
Connor shakes his head. “Makes me glad I never got into the security business like you guys. My job is nice and simple. Build a bike, sell a bike, get paid. Done and dusted.”
Mitch laughs. “That’s not what you normally say. Weren’t you just complaining that a customer wanted you to change the paintjob and that it would look shit?”
Connor looks sheepish. “It will look shit,” he grumbles. “But I’d rather put up with that crap than deal with abusers and lost girls.”
I shake my head. Lost girl? Is that what Jess is? I want to jump to her defence, which is a weird emotion for me. I’ve been swinging between regret to disgust to… I don’t know what. But Jess is so much more than a lost girl.
“Hey, Hunter might be getting a rough deal, but I have things sweet.” Mitch flashes a wide smile.
“Yeah, yeah.” Connor chuckles. “Don’t rub your success in. Everything comes easy to you, doesn’t it, man?”
Mitch lifts a shoulder. “What can I say? I’m blessed? Nothing quite like travelling the world and guarding a few hot women for big bucks. You should have stuck with being a bodyguard, Hunter.”
“Fuck no. I’d die of boredom.”
“Gotta be better—”
A group of four girls approach and Mitch pauses to study them. “Ladies,” he greets, flicking on a charming expression.
I suppress a groan. I’m not in the mood for company. I glance over, barely taking note of what they look like—unusual for me seeing as being observant is part of the job. Early twenties, various hair colours.
Not Jess.
Fuck. I scrape a hand through my hair and force a smile onto my face. I need to get that woman out of my head. One of the girls mutters something about being new to the area or something. It’s probably bullshit but Mitch doesn’t care. He stands and I follow suit. Two girls slide into the booth between Connor and I and I sit as Mitch wraps an arm around a blonde’s shoulders. Typical, Mitch. I envy him. No worries, no stress. I was like that before Mam’s cancer. I wish I could be the same again then my heart wouldn’t ache and sickness wouldn’t churn in my stomach.
The dark haired girl next to me introduces herself but I immediately forget her name. Connor engages the other one in conversation and I try to focus on the pretty woman. She’s hot. I should be into her. She’s definitely interested.
“I’m Hunter,” I respond.
She offers a sweet smile and settles a hand on my arm. Definitely interested. “That’s a great name.”
“Thanks, so is yours.” I wish I could remember it.
I somehow stumble through the evening. I try to get drunk but lose interest in my beer too and end up depressingly sober. The girl—Charlie, I finally figure out—doesn’t seem to notice my disinterest and is definitely tipsy as well as hot for me. The touches increase until she’s practically wrapped around me. I glance over at Mitch who offers me a grin and I realize the man is going to be enjoying a threesome tonight.
Charlie leans into me and puts her lips to my ear, nipping at my lobe. “You fancy coming back to mine tonight?” she whispers.
I force myself to debate it even though my instinct is to say no. Drawing away, I eye Charlie and try to summon some enthusiasm. But I’m not interested. I haven’t even thought about another women since…
Since Jess.
Shit.
I picture Jess in some cute pyjamas, all sleepy from being in bed, her hair messy. The ache in my chest eases.
“I’m sorry, Charlie, I’ve got to go. I just remembered…” I stand and she pouts.
“Come on, Hunter.” She pats the seat beside her.
“Hey, what’s going on, man?” Mitch raises both brows.
“I gotta be somewhere. Sorry.”
Without trying to explain, I swivel and head out the door. I didn’t drive so I could drink so I flag down a taxi, not even able to resist grinning. I’m going to see Jess. I need Jess. Goddamn what was I thinking? I can’t live without her. I get in the taxi and give the driver her address. So she’s made mistakes. Who hasn’t? And she suffered abuse. I mean, for fuck’s sake, what kind of asshole am I that I can’t forgive her stupid decisions at such a young age. She must have been so desperate. And I understand desperate. I’ve been there. So what if she took some money? That bastard deserved everything he got.
Hell, though if my decisions don’t seem cowardly. Jess was practically a kid, driven out of her home but some sicko. I curl a fist and curse the late night traffic and the pervert who touched her. Maybe I’ll track Carl down and exact some punishment of my own….
I run both hands through my hair and wish I hadn’t been drinking. I’m not drunk but how am I going to convince her I’m not a dick for abandoning her for a week after all I did to persuade her to let me into her life with beer on my breath?
As the taxi works its way through the late night traffic to Peckham, I try to figure out what I’m going to say. My phone rings, jarring me from my thoughts. I pull it out, expecting it to be Connor or Mitch but it’s not. I swear aloud.
“Well?” Carl asks.
“Well, what?”
“I’ve been trying to contact you all week. Have you got the money?”
“What was the money from, Carl? Why did Jess leave?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters if the money isn’t legal. And it matters if you did something to her.”
“What the fuck? Do you want to be paid or not? None of this bothered you when I was sending you money.”
“Frankly, Carl, you can take your money and shove it up your ass. I don’t want your money. And you can stay the hell away from Jess, you sick fuck.”
I jab end call and grin to myself. So I’ve got no money. If I can persuade Jess to have me it won’t matter. Maybe I’ll sell the bike. That will keep me going for a while and I can put some of the money into advertising, get a few new jobs. Hopefully I’ll figure out some way of keeping up the payment on the house.
The taxi pulls up outside Jess’s apartment block. I’ll worry about money later.
Chapter Fourteen
Jess
Feet pounding from a long shift at the pub, I climb the stairs to my apartment. I can’t wait to ge
t into bed and hopefully forget everything. Eddie started quizzing me about Hunter which didn’t help and he sent me home early, saying I didn’t look well. When I think I might be getting over him, something comes up to remind me of him.
The sound of someone running up the stairs makes my heart leap and I pause, press myself against the wall and wait for them to come past me. Ruffled dark hair, a damned leather jacket and blazing eyes come into sight. He lifts his head as a tilted smile slides over his lips.
“Jess.” He practically breathes my name and my toes curl.
“Hunter?”
“Hey, princess.” He comes up beside me and shoves his hands in his jeans.
“What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to see you. You been working?”
“Yes, I’ve been working,” I snap. “Why did you want to see me at nearly one in the morning?”
He shrugs. “Can we go up?” He lifts that beautiful gaze to the stairs.
“Hunter, you can’t just turn up like this.” I fold my arms. “I’ve not spoken to you in over a week and now you expect to turn up out of the blue and expect… expect…” I wave my hand, not sure what he really expects. Is he wanting to take me to bed? To talk? What?
“I can explain.”
I study his posture, the determined jut of his chin and wide stance. I don’t have a hope in hell of winning this argument and forcing him to turn back around. And of course the stupid part of me—the one that Hunter brings out—wants to know what he’s been doing.
“Fine, but be quick. I’m tired.”
He nods and a satisfied smile cracks his face. Damn him, why does he have to be so sexy? Even though I’m pissed off, desire spears me. In an attempt to hide it, I turn and walk briskly up the stairs. I dig my keys out of my bag and fumble with them when I reach the door. My hands really don’t want to cooperate as my pulse beats a fitful tempo.
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