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Derek (Hunter PI & Security #1)

Page 29

by Sharon Cummin


  I got Gabe and myself ready quickly and hurried through the kitchen to grab a muffin and coffee. Doug was standing by the couch in the living room. I knew he saw me, but he didn't say a word. When I was opening the front door to take off, I heard him call out.

  “You going in early?”

  I could tell from the tone in his voice that he was pissed about something. Since I'd also seen an equally pissed Derek who had just come from his office the day before, I was pretty sure the two were connected and knew that I had to get out of there as fast as possible.

  “I am,” I said. “I've got a few things to do and want to make sure I leave on time today. I'll see you at the office.”

  I closed the door quickly and hurried to my car so I could make sure to drop Gabe off and get to the office before Derek. When he walked through that door, I wanted to be sitting at my desk. His ass was going to answer for not sending me a message back. As bitchy as he was about me texting, he needed to do the same.

  His truck wasn't there when I pulled in, so I knew he hadn't made it in before me. I sat at my desk and watched each time that door opened. Time passed and I still hadn't seen him. Doug, Gabby, John, Drake, Taylor, Walker, and Jared had come through, and I still hadn't seen Derek.

  I grabbed my phone and typed out a message, feeling even more pissed than before.

  Me: Where the fuck are you? This shit is not funny. If I don't hear from you soon, I'm going to go stalker on your ass. I'm going to track you down and show up where you are. You're not the only one that can make those threats you know.

  I'd finally had enough and called his company's line. I knew it was Drake as soon as I heard his voice.

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  He didn't say anything for a moment, and I realized I hadn't even said hello or who I was.

  “Shit!” I mumbled. “This is Bridget. Where's your brother?”

  “I got a message in the middle of the night saying he wasn't coming in,” he said.

  “How was he yesterday?” I asked, without thinking about how rude I sounded.

  “I have no idea,” he said. “When I went by the house, he was in bed. Jean said he wasn't feeling well.”

  Was he sick, I wondered? There I was thinking it had something to do with me or Doug. Maybe he was just sick. That didn't explain just how pissed he was when he left work though. Something wasn't adding up.

  “Bridget,” I heard Drake.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sorry about that. You haven't talked to him since he stormed out of here yesterday?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “I'm guessing you haven't either.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I've sent him several messages. It pisses me off that he isn't answering them. He's so damned demanding and bossy when he wants me to text him. This is bullshit.”

  “I agree,” he said. “Something is definitely going on, but you know how he is. He locks that shit up tight.”

  “I'm tired of it,” I said. “What's good for him is good for me. You think he's at home?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I'm pretty sure he is. Where else could he be? It's too early to be at a bar. He won't go with me, but I'm pretty sure he sometimes goes without me.”

  “This early?” I asked.

  “I don't think so,” Drake said. “I'm thinking he's home.”

  I hung up with Drake and called Derek's phone, but it went straight to his message.

  “Fuck this,” I said, my voice filled with anger. “He's not doing this to me. I'll show his ass. Don't dish it out if you can't take it. I'm coming to find you, Hunter.”

  Then I sent an email to Doug saying I wasn't feeling well and needed to go home. He didn't respond, but a few minutes later, Sarah walked out of the elevator and over to my desk.

  “I'll be here for the rest of the day,” she said. “I hope you feel better. Make sure you get some rest. Let me know if you need any help with Gabe.”

  Sarah really was a nice girl, and I was glad she was at the company.

  “Thank you,” I said. “This won't mess up your day, will it?”

  “Not at all,” she said.

  I walked out the front door of the building on a mission. I was going to find his ass and give him a piece of my mind.

  As I rounded the bend toward his house, I thought about Jenny being home. If she was there, I couldn't do it. I'd have to wait. I stopped at the bottom of his driveway and was relieved that Jean's car was gone. I knew Joe would be at work, so I wasn't worried about him either. The only vehicle there was his. I pulled up the drive next to his truck, got out, and walked up the porch steps.

  I knocked lightly at first, thinking he might really be sick. That wouldn't stop me from letting him know exactly what I thought, but I didn't want to freak him out before even seeing him. When he didn't answer, I knocked louder. Then I waited. With each second I stood there, I became more pissed at him and at myself. I knew I shouldn't be standing there, knocking like some crazy stalker, but I was. Part of me was worried about him, and part of me wanted to let him know that I was no more to be screwed with than he was. The next time I knocked, I made damn sure that even the neighbors could hear me. If he was sleeping, there was no way he wouldn't hear it. Sure enough, a minute or so later, I heard the click of the lock and the turn of the handle.

  “What the fuck is so important?” I heard him snap, as the door opened and he stood there squinting, trying to see who was standing in front of him.

  I was so mad that he'd been sleeping while I was freaking out over him not answering me and calling into work. I reached up and pushed my hands against his chest causing him to take a step back. It felt pretty good to catch him off guard. I also couldn't miss the way his chest felt under my hands. I walked by him and into his house without asking. It didn't matter what he wanted. He was going to hear me out whether he wanted to or not. Before I could stop them, tears began to slip from my eyes. He was okay. I was happy about that, but I was still going to kick his ass for being a dick.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled, as I turned quickly to face him.

  He wanted to say something, I could see it in his eyes. I just couldn't figure out what it was. His expression had gone from angry to one of concern, but he hadn't spoken.

  “You stormed out yesterday looking more pissed than I'd ever seen,” I began, as I reached up to wipe my eyes. “Your brother said you'd been up to see Doug. I sent you a text, but you didn't answer me.”

  He was looking me in the eyes, so I stopped for a second. I couldn't decided if I wanted to punch him as hard as I could or grab his perfect face and kiss him. Even fresh out of the bed, the man looked amazing. He was pissing me off. I needed him to say something, anything. When he didn't, my voice became deeper and louder, and I was barely holding myself together.

  “That's bullshit and you know it. When you tell me to text you, I do it. If I don't, you threaten to show up at my house. How is it that I have to listen to your demanding ass, but you don't have to have the decency to answer me. I wasn't looking for a huge conversation, Derek. All I wanted was to know that you were okay. How fucking hard is it to text the words I am okay? I barely slept the whole night, and it's your fault. I got to work early so I could I tell you exactly how I felt, but you never came. I had to ask your brother where you were. Here you stand, acting as if you don't have a fucking care in the world. You let me sit there and worry, while you had a good night sleep. It's taking all I have not to beat the shit out of you right now. I hope you know that.”

  I didn't realize I'd stepped closer until my finger was digging into his chest. The more time he stood there silent, the more angry I became, and the louder I got.

  “What the fuck do you have to say for yourself?” I shouted.

  I looked up into his eyes, waiting to see what he'd say. What excuse would he use to make it seem like he'd done nothing wrong? Then I saw the concern in his eyes change to one of al
most pain, and it hit me hard in the chest, taking my breath away.

  “Someone hit you,” he said roughly.

  “What?” I asked, so damn sure that I'd heard him wrong. “What did you just say?”

  He grabbed my wrist that was in front of his chest and held it tight.

  “Someone fucking hit you,” he said, even rougher and deeper than he had a moment ago.

  It was like someone punched me in the stomach as hard as they could. I felt like everything was closing in around me, and I couldn't catch my breath. When I took a step back, he tried to hold onto my wrist, but I wouldn't let him. I pulled it away and instantly crossed my arms over my chest.

  “He told you that,” I growled out. “How could he do that? Who the fuck does he think he is?”

  “He was worried I'd hurt you,” he said. “He's lucky I didn't knock his ass out for the things he said to me. I walked away. I didn't want to though, but I did it for you. He's your family.”

  “I can't believe he told you that,” I said, still in shock that Doug thought it was okay to tell my story, something that happened to me.

  “I don't get it,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, all of my anger toward him was gone. “What exactly is it that you don't get?”

  “It doesn't make sense,” he said, still looking into my eyes even though I'd stepped away.

  I didn't say anything. There was no way I was going to. It was taking all I had not to take off out the door and never come back. I didn't need him judging me, and I felt like that was exactly what he was doing.

  “There's more, isn't there?” he asked.

  I looked around him toward the door, but he was blocking it.

  “I need to go,” I said.

  He shook his head and took one step toward me, so I took one step back. Then he did it again, and so did I. If I was quick, I could get around him and out the door.

  “Don't even think about it,” he said.

  “Derek,” I whispered, as I looked up at him.

  “He didn't tell me everything,” he said. “I knew he didn't. He said that was why you were afraid around men. He said that the fucker hit you twice, and he came to your rescue. He said he beat him bloody. Doug saved you from him. I respect him for that, but I'm not stupid. He didn't tell me the whole truth. Why is that?”

  “Because he doesn't know,” I said, as tears began to form again in my eyes.

  He took my chin in his hand, and I could feel it shaking as he lifted it. When our eyes connected, I felt a shiver move through my whole body. What was it in his eyes, I wondered? If it was pity, I didn't want it. I didn't need it.

  “How could Gabe have let him go without killing him?” he asked calmly.

  “Because he didn't know either,” I said.

  “Who knows?” he asked me.

  “Nobody,” I said, as I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth to try to prevent any more emotion or tears from coming to the surface.

  “How is it that I'm the only one that has figured out that the fucker did way more than hit you twice?” he asked, with a rumble coming from deep in his chest. “How could they not see that?”

  “I don't know,” I said. “Maybe because I didn't want them to.”

  My back was against the wall by the time I realized we had still been taking steps back, and I knew I couldn't run from him. It would have worked with anyone else, but not with Derek. He would have come after me. That was who he was, and I was getting used to it.

  “What did he do?” he asked, and I shook my head no. “Talk to me, Bridget.”

  I couldn't talk to him, not about that. I didn't want Derek or anyone else to see me as weak or to feel sorry for me. I should have gotten away when he hit me the first time. I was the dumb one that thought he hadn't meant it. Shit! I hadn't even told Gabby the whole story. There was no way I could tell Derek. He worked with both of them. We were friends. I didn't need him looking at me differently.

  “When he was sober, he was a great guy,” was all I said.

  “Bridget,” he hissed through his clenched jaw. “How many times did he hit you?”

  “A few,” I answered. “Will you please drop it.”

  He shook his head no but didn't take his eyes off of me. We were standing so close that I could feel the heat coming from his body. The man was like a rock. If I touched him, I knew every muscle would be tight at that very moment. I could feel my chest against him and knew that my heart was beating faster than it ever had in my life.

  “How many times did he do more than hit you?” he asked.

  “Only once,” I said, without thinking. “That was the scariest moment of my life and enough for me to learn that he did mean it and that he would never change. I wasn't going back for more. It was right after that that they went after him, and yes, Doug was the one that got him. The other two didn't have a chance from what I was told.”

  I took a deep breath in, not believing that I was telling him any of it.

  “What's his name?” he asked, as one of his hands came up on each side of my face against the wall.

  He knew I was going to bolt before he even asked me.

  I shook my head.

  “You can't say anything, Derek,” I said. “Doug and Gabby don't know. Neither does John. Nobody knows about it. I mean nobody. Do you hear me? I never would have told anyone. That was my past. I don't want it in my present or my future.”

  “It already is,” he said. “Each time I see you flinch or react, I want to put my hand through someone's face. I saw it the first time I met you, and I've seen every time it's happened since. What is his name?”

  “It doesn't matter,” I said sternly, as I shook my head.

  “It matters,” he snapped.

  “What do you care?” I asked. “It was years ago in another state. Let it go.”

  “I'll find out,” he said, as he pushed off of the wall and turned away from me.

  “If Doug tells you, I'll kill him,” I said. “He had no business talking about my life with anyone.”

  “I don't need Doug,” he said. “I'll find out. It's what I do, remember? I was a damn SEAL. Do you really think I can't find the piece of shit that touched you? I'll kill him with my own bare hands.”

  “Stop,” I yelled nervously. “I don't want anything to do with him in my life.”

  “He can't get away with it,” he said, as I saw his back and arm physically tighten.

  “It's been years,” I said. “Please, let it go.”

  “I can't,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “You don't hurt someone I care about and get away with it,” he said. “It's not okay, Bridget.”

  “Derek,” I said, as I grabbed his arms.

  When he turned back to face me, and I saw the look in the eyes, I couldn't stop myself. There was no pity or judgment there. Instead, all I saw was pain, the same pain I felt so many times. I reached forward, and with both of my hands on his cheeks, I pulled him down and covered his mouth with mine. I needed to be close to him. I needed to feel him. Nobody had ever looked at me the way he was, not ever. His hands grabbed hold of the back of my head, and he took the few steps forward until my back was against the wall again. He grabbed my bottom lip between his teeth, and I moaned as his teeth pulled and scraped my lip. When I opened my mouth, his tongue dove in to find mine. I grabbed the back of his head and held him tightly. There was no way I was going to let him go. I needed to know he was there. I was so damn afraid he was going to break the connection, and I couldn't take the thought of losing his touch. Our tongues danced together, both fighting for control. When he pulled back and looked into my eyes, my entire body shook. He was the only one that knew the secret I'd been hiding for so long, and he hadn't looked at me with disgust. He hadn't blamed me. Instead, he said he cared. He said it wasn't okay.

  “Derek,” I whispered.

  When his hand wrapped around my hair and tugged and his mouth came down on my neck, I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped me. My fi
ngers gripped his hair and wouldn't let go. I heard a whimper come from deep inside of me. My entire body was on high alert. His lips came back to mine, and I held him tight. He took the tiny step forward and pressed his body against mine. I could feel his growing cock through his sweats and wanted so badly to touch him. Without thinking, my hand slid down between us, and I grabbed hold of him through the fabric. I heard the hiss travel from his mouth to mine and knew I was in trouble.

  “Jenny,” I said.

  “At a museum,” he said, as he continued to make love to my mouth.

  “Derek,” I moaned.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I need,” I began, but was cut off when his hand touched my belly from under my shirt.

  I felt it slowly slide up and knew he was giving me every opportunity to stop him, but there was no way I could. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to feel my skin against his. I wanted him inside of me. He was so damn cocky and demanding, but he was also so sweet and caring. Derek was the perfect mix. He was amazing, and I'd never regret having him in my life. He was the one that was there, listening to me, being there for me. It didn't matter if I was right or wrong, he was still there, and I'd never forget that, no matter what happened between us.

  “Bridget,” he whispered, as his lips brushed against my neck.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled, as his hand pushed my shirt all the way up.

  Then I heard the snap at the back of my bra, and my breasts fell free. When his huge hand wrapped around one of them and he squeezed, his thumb brushed over my nipple, and my back arched forward into his touch. My head fell back and my eyes closed, as his fingers and hands moved along my skin.

  “Arms above your head,” he demanded.

  I did as he requested and could feel the smile around his mouth when it came down on my breast. His tongue moved over my nipple, and I moaned. When he took it between his teeth and pulled, I cried out from both pain and pleasure.

  “Derek,” I said, as I tired to breathe.

  “You're so beautiful,” he said, as he slid my shirt and bra together up my arms and over my head.

 

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