by Mara Lynne
“What did Hunter do to you?”
“I would not want to scare you,” Candice replies. “But it will be pleasure to tell you how rotten and fucked up he is. He used everything that is left in me. He took advantage of my weakness. He made me fall deeply in love with him, and then one day, he left—disappeared like a bubble. Are you not scared he’d do that exact thing to you? Leave you broken and fucking hopeful that he’s going to come back for you? Hunter Stone is not born to love women; he’s born to hurt them. I’m a living testament of that.”
“Am I inclined to believe you?”
“It’s up to you. If you want to get hurt, then continue this charade. One day, he’s going to leave you.” Candice sounds so confident that it had Angel thinking.
She now understands where this hate is stemming from. Candice only wanted to be loved by the man she thought was serious about him. Hunter let her down so she cannot blame the woman for despising him. If she were on her shoes, she’d probably really feel bad as well.
“I’m not sure about that though, Candice,” Angel counters. She has secured Hunter’s love, and she finds no reason to doubt him.
“Fine. Suit yourself, but I’m not giving up my child to him.”
***
It’s night, and Angel has just come out of the shower when she finds the bed empty. Drying her hair with a cotton towel, she treks down the corridor until she reaches Hunter’s private library. The door is left unlocked, so she takes the liberty to go in.
Hunter is staring at the fire, carrying a glass of wine. Angel’s attention turns to the bar where empty bottles of alcohol line in disarray. A thick mask of dejection is displayed on his face. The alcohol is whisking the uncertainty and desperation together.
She definitely knows what’s troubling the man. She knows how upset he was about Candice’s decision. She knows how he wants to have the child.
“Hey.” She appears from behind him, taking away the glass he is holding. “You’ve had enough already.”
He takes her by her arm and quickly but gently encircles his strong arms around her. Hunter finds solace with her this close to him, and he is very much relieved to have her by his side. He would have been a wreck if Angel left him for his mistake. He would have killed himself with alcohol or by whatever means needed to leave this world if Angel did not forgive him.
But here she is now—his strength, his hope, his inspiration, his love.
Hunter falls onto the couch, leaning his head on her stomach. With his hands on her hips, he feels how tiny she is in his hands, and how soft and warm she feels. For a moment, he closes his eyes and imagines Angel’s tummy bearing his child—their child. How he wants to feel it and touch it, to slide his palms against it and feel it move under his skin. That would be an absolute bliss, immeasurably wonderful.
Angel carrying his child—their baby—their own…
His own.
“We’ll figure this out together, babe,” Angel says as she massages his shoulders. “We’ll not stop convincing her. We’ll make this happen.”
“I don’t want him to grow without knowing me, Angel.”
“I know. We’re going to get him, and you and I are going to take care of him. Then we’ll have our own kids, lots of them. We’ll all be happy,” she says to him, tilting his chin so she sees him clearly. Then Angel leans forward and plants her mouth to his for a gentle one.
“Lots of them,” he echoes, tasting her lips with his.
“Yes, lots of them.”
For a moment, Angel thought she sees his eyes glint.
“Will you sleep with me now?” she murmurs against his mouth.
“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea.” He sweeps her off her feet with his arms, carries her to the nearest sofa, pulls his shirt up, and slides his arms off the sleeves until his perfectly hard trunk is exposed for Angel to see, touch, and kiss.
***
When she wakes up the next day, Hunter is lying next to her, scooping her body with his. The library windows are still closed, but the curtains are drawn up, the sun shining into the room. They are lying on the fur carpet near the fire, all cozy with the throw pillows everywhere and a thick blanket that warm and cover their bare bodies. She turns around to face him and watch him peacefully sleeping.
Then she remembers what Candice told her.
He made me fall deeply in love with him, and then one day, he left—disappeared like a bubble. Are you not scared he’d do that exact thing to you?
But there he is, lying down next to her. She was a bit anxious about not finding him when she wakes up. Perhaps Candice’s words have gotten into her.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Hunter replies, smiling and kissing her gently on the mouth. Her voice is sweet and soft to his ears.
Angel pulls back. “I had a dream last night.”
“Had you? What is it all about?”
“We were on a cruise in the Mediterranean,” she says while scanning her brain for the memory. “We were having a lot of fun… and we have a boy.”
His eyes sparkle and his grin widens. “A boy…”
“Yes. Well, it’s in my dream. I’m just telling you what’s in there,” she shyly replies. Her face suddenly feels warm, and she knows it’s due to Hunter’s response. Although it’s only a dream, she wants it to come true. Perhaps because she wants to take away Hunter’s sadness, and she thinks having a baby is the solution. The surprised look on his face makes her shy, but Angel knows that sooner or later, they will have one or perhaps more.
Smiling, Hunter brushes her nose with a gentle tap of his finger.
“And what’s the boy’s name?” he asks.
“I don’t remember.”
“Let’s give him a name then.”
“Okay…” she lightly touches his chest and draws circles on it with her fingers, teasing him. “What would you name him then?”
“How does he look?”
“He’s around five, and he’s tall for his age. He’s got your eyes…”—deep and lustrous darkness, with an amazing ability to command attention—“…your lips…”—full and soft. “He looks so much like you.”
“I am thinking of Gabriel…” he says.
“Gabriel? Why Gabriel?”
“I don’t know. It’s the first thing that came into my head.” The truth is that it came from staring at her beauty. She always looks magnificent in the morning like a blossoming rose with her cheeks soft and glowing, her hair that glistens like the sun slept there, and her swollen and red lips. She is all the temptation she will ever need. “Are you forgetting something?”
“What?”
Then, Hunter’s leg parts her thighs so that she opens for him. Angel lets out a moan as soon as she feels her tender core aching for him.
“There was more in your dream,” he says, coaxing her mouth to open. Lightly, he closes into her until he feels her under him. Her bare chest oscillates heavily, and her skin burns with desire. His mouth explores her—her ivory neck, her tempting shoulders, and her sweet breasts.
“Was there?”
He groans as soon as his member enters her cave of intimacy, and he loses his head once more in her sweetness. Nodding, he takes in her nipple and softly licks it with his tongue until Angel moans. She feels so tight around him that he feels himself throbbing.
“There’s a little girl too,” a smirking Hunter answers as he allows lust and intimacy overwhelm them.
“Really? I don’t remember her…” Angel bites her lips as she convulses with pleasure every time he thrusts deeper into her. Her hands are firmly clutched around his neck so he could kiss her. “Was she in my dream?”
“oh, yes…” he utters on top of her mouth. He feels the hot liquid travel within his veins. “She has brown hair. Her eyes are large and lovely, a very beautiful girl… just like her mother.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No. How would I know? It’s your dream.”
Angel flips him over,
sitting on top of him. The cover falls down her waist, and Hunter’s hands move up and down, sending this titillating sensation all over her and finally, stops at her breast where he pleasures her. Her cheeks are flushed, and her chest is so tight. She groans as his skin touches her swollen and tender breasts. They seem to be full and tender these past few days.
Breathing profoundly, she moans his name many times as his hardened and pulsating member reaches the deepest wall of her cave.
Then, when the rush leaves her slowly, she starts laughing, falling weakly next to him.
Hunter catches her lips and silences her with another long, hard kiss.
***
“That bitch!” Ray hisses. “I will be her worst enemy if she did that to me, Angel.”
Angel runs her fingers across the bodice of her wedding gown. It is displayed on a mannequin they are keeping out of Hunter’s sight for another week. In the afternoon of Wednesday, next week, fourteenth of August, she will marry him in a huge church wedding her family and closest friends will witness.
Hugo did a wonderful job on the dress, and she could hardly keep her eyes off it.
“Thanks by the way for the oranges and the tamarinds,” she says.
“She’s a sly and cunning woman. She should go to jail.”
“Hunter is trying to convince her.”
“And so does Damien, I presume.”
She nods. She does think she owes the man a thank you for trying to help Hunter fix this situation. And though she’s not quite sure of his intentions, she feels obligated to express her deepest and heartfelt gratitude.
After what she has done to him, here he is helping them.
“And so does he…” she utters, trudging towards the table. In a quick second, she feels all her blood draining away from her head, causing her to lose balance. She has to hold on to something or she’ll fall over the floor.
“Angel?” the pallid Ray runs quickly towards her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She straightens her legs and stands lean and tall.
“Yes, I’m okay. I just feel a little dizzy.”
“Are you sure? You look really pale.”
“I’m just dehydrated… I’ll go get some water.”
“We could call one of the help,” Ray says, not letting go of her arm.
“It’s okay, Ray. I think I need to pee also.” And so Angel leaves the room for the toilet.
By the time she reaches the corridor that leads to the stairs, everything goes black, and she remembers nothing but falling down her knees and slamming right against the floor.
***
When she opens her eyes, she sees Ray staring at her.
“What happened?” her raspy voice creaks out of her throat. “Where am I?”
The place is not her bedroom or Hunter’s place. “What am I doing in here?”
“You passed out, honey. I don’t know what to do, so we rushed you here.”
She must not be in a serious condition, she quickly thought. She has no intravenous fluids or oxygen tubings hooked into her. She’s technically fine now. Perhaps the cause of her sudden unconsciousness is just plain dehydration.
“Are we leaving now?”
“No, honey. We have to wait for your lab results,” Ray answers.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“Just half an hour. But seriously, I was hell worried about you. Are you eating well, Angel?”
“Yes, I do, Ray,” she answers. Hunter’s place provides her food she never thought she’d see or taste in her whole life. It was kind of off-putting for Ray to ask that kind of question.
The curtains open, and a female doctor comes in.
“Hi, Ms. Mohr,” she greets with a bright smile. “I am Dr. Campbell, resident physician in the ER.”
“Hi, doctor. Am I allowed to go now? I’m feeling a lot better,” she tells her. “I think it’s just stress or dehydration.”
“Yes, you are fine, Ms. Mohr. You can go home anytime you want.”
“Oh, God! Thank goodness!”
“But you must be careful, knowing your condition,” the doctor adds as she looks at the papers she’s carrying.
“My condition? What’s wrong with me?”
Dr. Campbell’s gaze darts from the stunned Ray to Angel.
“Why, you’re pregnant, Ms. Mohr.”
***
“Hello?”
“Hunter Stone.”
He immediately recognizes the voice.
“Will?” Rage begins to seethe through his nostrils. He’s just leaving his office, about to get in the car when an unknown number flashed on his phone.
“Just want to get reconnected.” But his taunting voice gives away his intent. “Don’t you know that Damien and I are at 24B?”
“What’s Damien doing with you?”
“Hey, relax. I told you I’m just up to some reconnecting. Come on, I miss you, guys.”
“Why is my brother with you?” he firmly says, hurriedly getting into his car and firing up the engine.
“We’re drinking. And I’m not even going to push him to use pots this time. We’ll just have some fun and women.” His is the most hideous sounding voice Hunter has ever heard. Will talks like there’s something in his throat—guttural, rusty, and sneaky. “He’s actually on the canvas now. Too much vodka and tequila, I guess.”
“Tell him to stay there. I’m coming to get him.”
“By all means. I will wait for you.”
And Hunter hangs up the call.
Chapter 35 – Licked Wounds
24B—an abandoned warehouse near Cadwalader Park which used to be their safe house a few years back when their group used to be active.
There’s only one lamp post lighting the entire street, just outside the entrance of the warehouse. He parks his car across the street and is starting to cross the lane when a fully-bearded man with a scar on his face approaches him.
“He is waiting for you,” he says while searching his body for items, making sure he is defenseless in the presence of his master.
As soon the man finished searching his legs, Hunter rushes inside. He does not quite understand why Damien has to keep his connection with Will when obviously the latter has not produced any good effects in his life in the recent years. Hunter could only blame himself for opening the doors of peril to the innocent seventeen-year-old Damien. He remembers that day clearly—Damien was a mess, and he was as well. So, as a loving and caring brother, Hunter just had to do something to amuse him for the time being. Damien was just about to pick a university, enrich himself with academic knowledge to gear towards success, but one night over a lost bet with Will and his cohorts, Damien had to give up this single opportunity all for being with him, all for being a man.
“You always wanted to be with me, right?” he told him that night after they lost the bet, and Damien was forced to promise in front of the gang that he had to withdraw from all the colleges he had applied to. He saw fear in him; he was but a seventeen-year-old—fear of being reproached by the indomitable James Etheridge and afraid to disappoint his most beloved mother. “This is it, Damien. We’re going to be together. It’s not bad so bad, is it? We’re a team now,” he once told him confidently.
Shaking the horrific memory off his head, Hunter continues to climb the wide steps inside until he reaches an open flat area where dusty crates are piled in rows. A burst of light is concentrated at the middle where a rectangular wooden table rests, and it allows him to direct his sole attention to the man leaning against the table’s edge. There were no women or bottles of wine—only Will and that off-putting smirk on his face. His gaze travels around, searching for the soul he’s expecting to find, his brother.
“Where’s Damien?” his tone is solid as a rock.
Will straightens his legs and back and blows the cigar that is in his mouth.
“Do you see him here?” Will responds.
“You said he’s with you! Where is he?” His temper is slowly
getting out of hand. He should have known better, he thought. Will got him this time. And what best way to do it but his brother, of course!
“I called him already. He’s coming over for sure,” Will says nonchalantly. “Damien hates to miss the fun. Want to see my call logs?”
“That won’t be necessary. I’m leaving.”
As soon as he turns his heels around, the steel roll-up doors slide down and a line of unknown armed men appears in his view. They are carrying guns around their waists, and on their hands are wooden clubs and baseball bats.
“I told you we’re going to have fun tonight,” says Will with a grimace reeking of malice and dark intentions. Out of nowhere, he pulls out a shining metal knife from his jacket and starts rubbing the blunt side with his fingertips. “You remember this?”
Hunter’s feet move a few steps back, but when he remembers Will’s well-armed goons standing behind him, he halts.
There’s no way for escape.
And if he tries to, he’ll be damned.
“Come on, you couldn’t have forgotten this,” Will continues.
“Listen, Will. I’m not here to die. I don’t know what you want to happen, but I don’t have the time to gratify your nuisances,” Hunter answers sourly. But as he turns on his heels, Will’s men have already raised their guns at him. Their fingers are itching to pull the trigger.
Slowly, Will walks toward him. His eyes are not leaving Hunter’s unrelenting ones.
“I don’t forget,” utters Will. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the horror you and Damien caused me. Now, it’s time to iron things out. You’d love the way I fix things. You know very well how I do it.”
“Stay away from Damien!”
“Don’t you think you’re both too old for that?” smirking, he says. “I honestly find this whole brotherly affection annoying already. But don’t worry, I care for Damien too. However, it’s not Damien whom you should worry about.”
