Regret (Shattered Secrets Book 1)

by Bella J.

“I think Joe would disagree with that.” He swallowed a mouthful of his beer while keeping his eyes on her.

  Scarlet handed another customer his drink, placed the money in the cash register, and then turned back to him. “I think Joe needs to find himself a naïve little rich girl.”

  “And I take it that’s not you?”

  “If I were a rich girl, would I be working here?”

  “I was referring to the naïve part.” He shot her a challenging look, and she raised a brow.

  “Are you a smart-ass?”

  “Oh no, not at all. Do I look like a smart-ass to you?”

  She reached up to her ponytail, untied it, and swept her hair back, retying it before placing her hands on her hips. “I think I’d rather not answer that question.”

  Hunter was unable to stop himself from looking in the direction in which her hands went and admiring the perfect curve of her hips. The sex obsessed man in him was saying, “Those hips would make for some real good pounding,” while the P.I in him was saying, “Put your dick back in your pants, she’s not your type.”

  He slowly lifted his gaze to her face. “So, back to Joe over there. He looks pretty tame and safe. You sure you don’t want to give him a chance?”

  “Joe being tame and safe is exactly why I don’t want to give him a chance. That and the fact that my balls might just be bigger than his.”

  Hunter snickered. “Poor Joe.”

  He sat down at the counter and leaned forward, summoning her to come closer with his finger like he was about to tell her who really assassinated JFK. “Do you think there’s a chance that your balls might be bigger than mine?”

  Leaning closer, she answered smoothly, “Oh, I guarantee you that they are.”

  Hunter snorted when she pulled back, and noticed the faintest hint of a cocky smile curving up at the corners of her mouth—a delicious-looking mouth.

  But the nose studded wild chick with blood red streaks in her dark hair who stood in front of him was far from the prim and proper, innocent-looking young girl in the picture he had. In the photo, she looked like no trouble at all. In person, she looked like one shit bucket full of trouble, and for some unknown reason he liked it—especially when he stared at her very well-endowed cleavage in the leather top she was wearing.

  “See something you like, Ace?”

  He looked up and she cocked her head, staring at him as he unashamedly gawked at her breasts.

  After another large gulp of beer, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s Hunter. And obviously I’m seeing something I like, otherwise I wouldn’t be staring now, would I?” He shot her a smug grin.

  She leaned over the counter again, crossing her arms in front of her chest, pushing those already sweet-looking breasts tighter together, giving him an eyeful of those gloriously bulging tits.

  “Then you’d better get a good look, ’cause that’s the closest you’re ever gonna get, Ace.” While biting her cherry red bottom lip, her gaze remained locked on his. The more he stared into those blue eyes of hers, the more he was reminded about why he had his no blue eyes rule.

  Desperate to push back the god-awful feeling of nostalgia, Hunter broke eye contact and leaned forward even more, glancing down at her breasts that were only a few inches from his face. He licked his lips. “Who says I want to get closer?”

  “Are you saying that you don’t?”

  “Are you saying that if I do, I won’t get any closer than I am right now?” He moved just another inch, and braced himself before he looked up and into her eyes again.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Ace.”

  God, her calling him Ace was slowly starting to get on his nerves. But he kept his shit together.

  “And what makes you so sure that I won’t get much, much closer than I am right now?”

  “Just like Joe, I’m not your type either.”

  She didn’t move away, and neither did he. Unfortunately for her, Hunter knew exactly what kind of game she was playing—the game of “evasion by douche-baggary.” He invented the damn game. He was the fucking master of the game. The only difference was, in her case, it was “evasion by cock teasing bitch-baggary.”

  Hunter slightly shifted in his seat. “So when exactly during the last five minutes since you’ve met me did you come to the conclusion that you know me and my type?”

  “It took me exactly five seconds to figure out that your type is definitely not me. And you most definitely aren’t mine.” A devilish grin crossed her face like she knew she had the means to seduce him to his death if she wanted to. If she only knew that there was no way in hell she would be able to do that—not with those fucking eyes.

  After moving his beer to the side, he crossed his arms on the counter. “Care to elaborate on that?”

  She shifted and for a split second his gaze dropped to her breasts again.

  Goddammit, those tits were like eye magnets, seducing his gaze away from her face every few seconds, making him seem like he was actually interested in her in that way—which he definitely wasn’t.

  A smug grin spread along her pretty little face when she noticed the struggle between his gaze and her voluptuous breasts. The little cock tease was doing it on purpose—shoving her tits in his face. He wondered how she would feel if he showed her the same damn courtesy by shoving his dick in her face. Not too fucking peachy, he was willing to bet.

  Scarlet slanted her head to the other side, watching him intently. “I’ve seen the little innocent princess Barbie dolls with daddy issues that you’ve been taking home. And trust me, I’m nothing like them.”

  He lifted his gaze to hers again and narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been watching me?”

  “And what if I have?”

  “Then I’d be totally okay with that.” He looked down at her red lips, and up again. “Because I’ve been watching you too.”

  For a few seconds their gazes were locked, neither of them moving or even blinking. It felt like there was this high pulsing energy around them, threatening to suffocate them both. It was excruciatingly intense, and Hunter felt it spread all the way down his spine. Then the energy got shattered when a man pushed in next to Hunter and barked out his order. For a split second Hunter had the almost uncontrollable urge to slam the guy’s face into the bar counter and shove the beer he just ordered up his ass.

  Scarlet pulled back. “Sorry, Ace. Duty calls. But nice chat. My life feels so much more enriched now that I had this very intelligent conversation with you. Let’s not do that again, ’kay?”

  He smiled and tipped his beer in her direction. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Scarlet Woods. You and those tits you’ve been shoving in my face for the last five minutes. I’m sure I’ll see you—and them—around.”

  “Yeah, don’t count on it, Ace.”

  “It’s Hunter.”

  “Whatever.”

  As he walked away, he pushed back the memories of the blue eyes he had seen in his dreams every goddamn night for the last seven years. There was no way he would allow his personal shit to interfere with this job.

  One thing he would give Scarlet, she had fucking attitude, and a part of him actually found her sassy ass amusing. With all the little—how did Scarlet put it?—innocent Barbie dolls with daddy issues he had been screwing the last few years, he didn’t get a lot of feistiness. But then again, feistiness wasn’t what he was looking for. Right?

  He made his way to the other side of the club, taking his seat at a table while inconspicuously watching Scarlet work behind the bar. While he watched her, he couldn’t shake the feeling that trouble was about to come bite him in the ass. Like every other human being on the planet, Hunter loved it when he was right. It made him feel all kinds of good. He once told Adam to pass on a woman who had come on strong to him while they were out on one of their regular boys’ nights. But as per usual, Adam was his obnoxious, Mr. Know-It-All self and didn’t listen. The next day, his self-proclaimed man whore friend pitched up at Hunter’s a
partment with a split lip and a bruised jaw. Turned out said woman had a taste for dominating…and dominate Adam she did. It was fucking hilarious. Hunter burst out laughing every time he looked at Adam’s face. Needless to say, Hunter wanted to pat himself on the back and give himself a high five for being right that day.

  But that night, he didn’t like the fact that he was right ninety-nine percent of the time. In fact, this time he was hoping like hell that he was wrong. Fucking hoper.

  Even though it was an old picture he had of her in his file, she looked completely different now than she did then. In the picture she looked innocent, free, and light. Yet the woman he was watching serve drinks to a bunch of drunk guys who were only here to see tits and ass was no longer that girl. She didn’t look free, and even though her eyes were a brilliant blue, it was ice cold and hard. There was no emotion behind them, so sign of any kind of warmth.

  Scarlet was no longer the innocent-looking girl in the photo, and again Hunter wondered…why?

  Chapter 4

  There was something about this Hunter guy that prickled the nerves in the back of Scarlet’s neck. The way he stared at her and his entire demeanor toward her was like he knew her…or at least he thought he knew her. This didn’t sit well with her.

  After running from her past for years, she had learned to always trust her gut. If something didn’t seem right, it probably wasn’t. And something about this Hunter guy wasn’t right.

  Scarlet glanced at the other side of the club where he had been sitting for the last two hours. He hardly ever took his eyes off her, staring at her like he knew something she didn’t. Paranoia had been Scarlet’s companion for a long time, and around every corner all she could see was her past somehow finding its way back to her, infiltrating her life once again, tormenting her. This was why Scarlet had never been able to settle. Her survival depended on her ability to run and disappear.

  But there was something about this big, bulky man with green eyes that seemed to have the demonic power of possession that triggered her already heightened paranoia. There was definitely something more than him just being a customer trying to get his flirt on with her, staring at her cleavage.

  Most of the crowd had died down since it was nearly two a.m. Scarlet gave her last customer his order of scotch on the rocks and then loosened her apron.

  It had been a while since she had pulled a double shift and her feet were aching, begging for a little rest. Getting home and flopping down on her bed like a piece of meat never seemed more enticing as it did right then.

  Just as she turned around, Joe walked up to her. “Are you calling it a night?”

  Joe wasn’t an unattractive guy with his dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin. He had that whole Latin lover image going for him, which the women loved. Scarlet, not so much.

  She sighed, not in the mood for the whole “I’m interested in you” flirty conversation.

  “Yeah, I’m beat.”

  When she tried to move past him, he gave a tiny step to the right, blocking her way. “That’s a pity, ’cause I thought maybe we could go grab a drink somewhere.”

  She looked up into his dark brown eyes that made her think one thing and one thing only—boring as hell.

  “It’s two a.m., Joe. I just want to go to bed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Positive.”

  Again she tried to get past him, but he gave another step to the right. “I’m sure you can stay awake for just another hour, can’t you?”

  God, she did not have the strength for his persistent Latin ass.

  “Joe, I told you—”

  “Just one drink.”

  “She said no, man.”

  Scarlet looked up and saw Hunter standing on the other side of the bar like he was about ready to fling across it and hand Joe’s ass to him on a silver platter.

  Joe turned toward Hunter. “Back off, dude, this has nothing to do with you.”

  Really? A pissing contest? At two in the morning? So not in the mood.

  “Okay, while you two figure out who’s able to piss through that five-inch granite countertop—I’m leaving.”

  Scarlet took the gap and quickly brushed passed Joe, when he grabbed ahold of her elbow. “Scarlet, wait up.”

  From the corner of her eye she saw Hunter giving a step forward, fists balled at his sides, but she shot him a warning glare before turning back to Joe. “If you don’t take your hand off me within the next two seconds, I will shove your balls down your fucking throat.”

  Joe probably felt the fury resonating in her words since he immediately let go of her elbow and took two steps back, holding up his hands. “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Good boy.”

  Scarlet grabbed her jacket and made her way out from behind the bar and through the club. Nothing annoyed Scarlet more than men thinking they could intimidate the shit out of everyone, especially women.

  Just as she stepped outside, a hand grabbed her elbow from behind.

  “Joe, I swear to God…” But when she spun around, it wasn’t Joe. “What the fuck do you want?”

  Hunter took his hand off her and placed it in his jeans pocket. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh my God.” Scarlet loosened her ponytail, letting her hair fall around her shoulders. “I don’t need you, or any other man for that matter, to act all chivalrous. I can take care of myself.”

  “Everything okay over there?” Harvey asked from a few feet away.

  “Fine. Thanks, Harvey,” Scarlet answered without taking her eyes off Hunter. “You have a good night.”

  “Okay. See you tomorrow night, then.” Harvey locked up and disappeared around the corner.

  Hunter was still staring at her, looking smugly amused. “So you’re saying you’re fine, then?” His lips curved slightly at the corners, evidence of the sarcasm that just made her annoyance peak to epically destructive heights.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m pretty sure there are one or two Barbie dolls left inside looking for a big old brute to blow.” She leaned closer. “Go find yourself one.”

  As she spun around and headed in the other direction, she heard him snicker behind her.

  What-fucking-ever.

  She didn’t have the time or the strength for this exasperating gorilla who seemed to have the natural talent to do nothing but piss her off. Not to mention that she still had that prickle of warning in the back of her skull when it came to him.

  Scarlet pulled her helmet over her head and got on her motorcycle. Just as she was about to start the ignition, she saw a shadow on her left, and her heart crept up her throat.

  When she turned her head, there was nothing there, yet the ice cold chills running down her spine told her differently. Suddenly the silence and the darkness around her seemed to intensify as all her senses kicked in. Shadows seemed like they were moving, closing in on her, the silence of night taunting her with promises of fear. God, she hated when that happened, when her paranoia took hold of every muscle and every thought. It was a miracle she wasn’t addicted to Xanax yet.

  She started the ignition, fear pulsing in her veins, driving her to get the fuck out of there. But before she was able to pull away, two hands grabbed her shoulder and pulled her backward, yanking her off the bike. With a hard thud she fell on the pavement, pain resonating through her back. Every survival instinct she had inside her kicked in when she saw three men surround her.

  “He wants you back, Little Red.”

  Oh God.

  Her stomach dropped and her chest tightened.

  Little Red. No, this can’t be happening.

  “He’s gone through a hell of a lot of trouble to find your ass.”

  Scarlet slowly pushed herself up, trying hard to not concentrate on the pain still lingering in her back. She pulled off her helmet.

  “Yeah, well, if only he went through a hell of a lot of trouble to go fuck himself, I’d be real happy right now.” She squinted when she finally managed to straighten.

>   One of the three men stepped forward and she could see that his eyes were a disgusting mouse color that instantly gave her the creeps. “You can be glad he ain’t here to hear you say that.”

  Scarlet bent backward and felt her back muscles snap back into place, giving her some much welcome relief. “Of course he’s not here. He’s too much of a coward so he sends his little dick minions to do his dirty work for him.”

  The minute that last word left her mouth she launched forward and punched the guy hard in the face. The sound of bone cracking was evidence enough that Scarlet broke the fucker’s nose. Fuck yeah!

  The other two men rushed forward, one of them grabbing her by the arm while the other guy aimed a flat palm at her face.

  Seriously? A flat palm? What, did they think she was Sleeping Beauty who couldn’t handle a little fight with three goons?

  Scarlet ducked out of the way, and while she was down there, she punched a fist right in his balls. A breath escaped his lungs with a loud swoosh as he curled up, clutching his nuts with both hands.

  Immediately she turned to the third guy, who still had a hold on her arm, and tried to kick her knee into his gut. But from out of nowhere a fist collided with her jaw and cheek, sending white hot pain through her skull. The blow was so hard, her vision turned to nothing but tiny white spots while a static noise filled her pounding head.

  Scarlet was on the ground within a second, unable to focus or even try to get up. Then there was the most intense, bone shattering pain that shocked through her body when the motherfucker kicked her in the stomach. It felt like her intestines exploded into shards of agony, cutting her open from the inside. Through the static that rung in her ears she could hear herself scream when she felt the crushing pain of the second kick.

  More pain, more screams.

  Expecting a third blow, she pulled her legs up, trying to protect herself while she covered her face with her arms.

  “Motherfucker!” someone yelled, and Scarlet opened her eyes.

  Someone grabbed her attacker from behind, turned him around, and punched him in the face. That was when she noticed it was him. Hunter. The guy who stalked her all night. The guy with the gift of pissing her off. The guy…who was now punching and kicking the shit out of the three little dick minions.