Regret (Shattered Secrets Book 1)

by Bella J.

  There was a soft knock on the door.

  “Go away.” She got up from the deck and walked in to the bedroom.

  “Scarlet, you can’t stay in that room forever, you know.”

  “Watch me.”

  “Would you please just stop this stubborn bullshit attitude of yours and let me in?”

  Staring at the door, she whispered, “I think I already have.”

  “Please just open the goddamn door.”

  She looked down at the spot where he held her that morning. The spot where he managed to yet again silence her demons. He was right the night before. This was a dangerous game she was playing with him. The only problem was she didn’t know what the game was until now. Without her realizing it, the walls around her heart were slowly breaking down brick by brick. Ever since she met him, he had been so protective over her, wanting to help her for some reason. At first, she thought he was just full of shit. But now she found herself in a place where she wanted to believe him, where she wanted to know what it felt like to have someone who wanted to protect her, who thought she was worthy to protect. Was it so damn wrong to want something whole in her life, something untainted and beautiful? To let someone in and allow them to care for her?

  “Scar, please. Open the door.”

  She closed her eyes, trying not to think about how it felt to have his arms around her. It made her feel safe, it made her feel warmer than she had in years. Maybe that was why she allowed herself to break in his arms earlier. It wasn’t the nightmare, or the memories. It was because of how she felt in his arms. It was the fact that for years she yearned to feel the warmth of someone who cared for her, and that morning she felt that…and it shattered her, feeling what she had been missing for so long. But it was reckless of her to allow herself to feel anything. There was a part of her that believed the promise he made earlier, to keep her safe, but she wasn’t confident enough in herself to trust that part of her. To trust the part of her that really wanted to stay with him, to be protected by him.

  No.

  No. She couldn’t trust it. There was too much at stake. Like her heart—her life. She had spent too much time, cried too many tears in order to harden herself against ever getting hurt again. There was no way she could allow anyone to break down the walls she had built, to tear down her defenses.

  With a deep breath, she steeled herself against the feelings wreaking havoc inside her.

  God, there were just too many voices inside her head—voices that told her she needed to let her guard down and to let him in, and voices that shouted at her to stop being naïve and to not trust him. She couldn’t let anyone in. That would be stupid and reckless. Besides, Hunter had made it pretty clear that what happened between them last night would not happen again. And to be honest, it sounded like they were both just too fucked up to mean anything to each other. Two broken people couldn’t make a whole. They would only destroy each other more.

  Catching sight of the bags of clothing she’d bought the day before, she knew exactly what she needed to do to get some clear perspective. And she was going to do it. Tonight.

  Chapter 23

  Hunter leaned his head back against the wall. He had been sitting outside the bedroom for an hour waiting for her to open up the door, to give him something. Anything. Just a clue as to what the fuck was going on, and what he needed to do to make it better.

  He wasn’t stupid. He knew they lived in one fucked up world, and that bad things happened to good people all the time. It didn’t take being a genius to figure out that her so-called cousin had done something to her—something that broke her, hurt her. The way she thrashed and screamed in her sleep that morning, scaring the shit out him, all pointed to one thing—and it scared him.

  He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to know the truth anymore. Just thinking about what that son of bitch had to have done to her that had her so messed up made his blood boil. It was like he had this deep rooted need to protect her, but also to defend her, to make this man pay for whatever the fuck he did to her.

  While thinking of at least fifty different ways to make this asshole pay, the bedroom door opened and Hunter jumped up.

  Scarlet stood by the door looking…looking fucking hot. Her hair was sleeked down over her shoulders, lips painted cherry red, blue eyes framed with dark eyelashes. And the red sleeveless dress she wore showed more skin than it covered. The high heeled boots coming up to her knees were like the fucking cherry on top of the sexy. Good God. His cock liked it too.

  “Where are you going?” His gaze moved up and down her body, unable to get enough of the sight.

  “Out.”

  He looked up. “What?”

  “I can’t sit here anymore. I need to get out.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. There’s a bar I saw yesterday just around the corner.”

  “Scarlet, how can I put this in a way that you would understand?” He rubbed the back of his neck then stared her straight in the eye. “No. Fucking. Way.”

  With her hands on her hips, she stared right back at him. “I’m going. And you can’t stop me.”

  His head was still spinning, trying to figure out if this damn woman was psycho or just plain fucking stupid, when she turned around, her heels clicking down the stairs.

  “Scarlet! Are you insane?”

  “No. But I do have cabin fever.”

  He stomped after her. “Cabin fever? We’ve only been here for two days.”

  “I get cabin fever pretty quick.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, you hear me? I can’t protect you when you’re out there on your own.”

  She turned around and glared at him. “Then come with me. But either way, I’m going. I can’t breathe here. I need music. I need people. I need to let go, even just for a fucking night. Okay?”

  He noticed she was biting her bottom lip, and something inside him settled a little, telling him to back off and let her do what she needed to do.

  “Fine. But I’m coming with.”

  She smiled. “Great.”

  “Fuck me,” he muttered to himself, and watched as she walked out the front door.

  With a long sigh and a few F-bombs he grabbed the keys and walked out behind her. She was standing next to the car with her back toward him and all he could think about was how damn hot she looked. The way that dress hugged her curves like a second skin, her hips accentuated perfectly under the red fabric. It felt like she was born for no other reason than to torture his dick.

  He stepped up beside her. “You look nice.” And he opened the door for her.

  “You need to stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Being nice.” They looked at each other, her blue eyes cold and hard. She was first to break eye contact, and slipped into the car before he closed the door.

  The entire way to the bar the air between them felt thick, suffocating, like both of them had so much to say but no one wanted to say it. Or maybe they didn’t know how to say it, or where to start.

  When he parked the car, she was out of it in record time, heading up the stairs to the bar without waiting for him.

  Fuck me.

  Something told him it was going to be a long night. Especially when he noticed all the motorcycles parked around the bar, then thought about the dress Scarlet was wearing. Back at the house, the dress seemed fucking perfect, showing him everything he wanted to see. Now it seemed way too fucking short, way too tiny, and he really wanted her to cover the hell up.

  Hunter walked in and immediately spotted her standing by the bar, slamming down her first shot of something.

  Jesus, this definitely was going to be one long-ass night.

  He stepped up next to her. “Scarlet, you sure that’s a good idea?”

  She glanced at him. “What? Drinking? Are you insane? That’s the perfect fucking idea.”

  With two fingers held up, she indicated to the bartender for another round.

  Hunter shook h
is head. “I don’t want any.”

  Scarlet groaned. “Oh my God. Are you going to be a stick in the mud tonight?”

  “Are you going to be trouble tonight?”

  She snorted. “I love trouble.”

  “It didn’t seem that way when you were crying in my arms earlier, begging me to protect you.”

  Scarlet froze and he immediately regretted saying what he did.

  “Scar—”

  “Don’t worry, Ace. What happened this morning will never happen again.”

  “I didn’t—” But she had walked off before he could finish his sentence. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the counter and looked at the bartender. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

  For the next two hours Hunter sat quietly at the bar, never taking his eyes off Scarlet. She had consumed her fair share of shots and drinks, and was dancing to some or other Rihanna song playing on the jukebox.

  It was safe to say that all eyes were on her.

  There were about thirty men in the bar and it seemed like every last one of them was tearing her clothes off with their eyes. With every passing second, with every sordid glance in her direction, Hunter felt this odd twinge inside his chest.

  What was that? He knew he had this weird need to protect her ever since he met her, but this was something different. Something stronger. Something disturbing…something that felt a lot like jealousy. Hunter almost choked just thinking of the word.

  To add fuel to the fire, a huge motherfucker with shitkickers and a leather jacket stepped up to Scarlet while she was dancing like a fucking stripper. All she needed was the damn pole. And Hunter was willing to bet the guy standing behind her staring at her ass like it was a piece of meat he wanted to sink his teeth into would be more than willing to serve as the damn pole. Fuck! Now he was just getting angry.

  The huge motherfucker placed his hands on Scarlet’s hips, pulling her against him. And Hunter felt like he was about to kill something.

  Roughing a hand through his hair, he took deep breaths, trying to get a grip and to not freak the fuck out over the fact that some strange guy was touching Scarlet. After all, she wasn’t his. They played, they fucked, and now it was over. The number one rule he had lived by for the last few years, the rule that kept him levelheaded, and the rule that protected him from making the same mistake twice was now in motion. He couldn’t fuck her again, even if every bone in his body was screaming for him to. It was done. The deal was closed. There would be no more screwing Scarlet—ever.

  Tossing back another shot of tequila, Hunter turned around, away from what was happening on the dance floor. Scarlet could do whatever or whoever the fuck she wanted, but he sure as hell did not have to witness it.

  About two songs later, the bartender handed him another drink.

  “You sure you’re happy with your girl dancing like that with some other guy?” He gestured to the dance floor. Hunter turned around and saw Scarlet dancing with the same big motherfucker, her hands wrapped around his neck, her ass grinding against the guy’s crotch.

  Hunter balled his hands into tight fists, wishing he had the right to punch that guy’s face in. The way his hands were on her hips, moving up her sides, brushing against the sides of her breasts…

  Jesus Christ. That’s it.

  Hunter shot up, the chair falling back with a loud thud, and he stormed toward them.

  Those were his hips. His ass. His breasts. It was his fucking Scarlet, and he would be damned if he allowed any man to touch what was his.

  That was right. His. Fucking his.

  “Take your hands off her.” Hunter scowled at the guy with the scarred face, shaven head, and muscles to boot.

  “Mind your own business, buddy.”

  Hunter stepped closer, determined to beat the shit out of the asshole. “I said. Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her.”

  “Hunter, what are you doing?” Scarlet glared at him.

  He glanced at her for a split second before returning his stare of death to the guy behind her, who still hadn’t removed his hands from Scarlet’s hips.

  “Take your hands off her, or I will break them.”

  “Hunter, you have no right—”

  “Shut up, Scar.”

  Scarlet stepped in front of him, blocking off the view he had of the big-ass motherfucker. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, but back off. This is my business.”

  “Not when another guy has his hands all over you it’s not.”

  Scarlet frowned and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

  Big-ass motherfucker leaned over Scarlet’s shoulder. “You want me to take him outside, babe.”

  “Babe?” Hunter pushed Scarlet out of the way and came face to face with the guy. “Walk away, asshole, or you’ll get your ass handed to you, along with your tiny little balls.”

  “Okay, stop!” Scarlet wormed her way between them and placed her hands on Hunter’s chest, pushing him back, then turned to the guy. “I’m sorry. Maybe some other time.”

  “Over my dead fucking body,” Hunter spat from behind her.

  The guy’s stare darted from Scarlet to Hunter, and then back to Scarlet. “Fine, whatever, man. I don’t have time for a slut anyway.”

  And then Hunter lost his shit.

  With all the strength from hell, he launched forward, aiming for the big-ass motherfucker’s face before two arms grabbed his shoulders.

  “Break it up, guys,” the bartender said. “We don’t tolerate this kind of shit in here. So unless you two start behaving, I suggest you call it a night.”

  Hunter was shaking, the rage burning inside of him like the deepest pits of hell. He could feel his veins protruding from his arms, his fists clenched tight. He was ready to break that guy’s goddamn neck.

  How the fuck did this happen? Since when did he act like a jealous boyfriend when it came to a woman? All possessive and shit.

  “Hunter!” Scarlet yelled, and he spun around. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Me? What am I doing?” He pushed his finger hard against his chest, the rage still burning like an inferno inside his veins. “You were the one practically fucking that guy on the dance floor.”

  “So what if I was? It’s got nothing to do with you. We slept together once. Once, Hunter. And you made it perfectly clear that it will not happen again.”

  “Yeah. But you don’t have to go and fuck the first guy who shows the slightest bit of interest in you.” Just the thought of someone else claiming her had him feeling like his head wanted to explode.

  “I can do whatever the hell I want. And if I want sex, I can have it with whoever the fuck I want.”

  Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Is this what it’s about? You want sex?”

  “What if it is? We both know you’re too much of a pussy to give it to me…again.”

  He didn’t think. He didn’t even fully process what he was doing when he grabbed her arm and pulled her off the dance floor, dragging her toward the restroom—and he wasn’t gentle about it. He felt her falter a few times while he dragged her behind him, but he didn’t slow down.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He stopped in front of the men’s restroom and opened the door before pushing her inside, his gaze locking on hers. “I’m going to give you what you want. And I’m going to give it to you now.”

  Chapter 24

  Hunter slammed the door shut behind him and Scarlet immediately felt her face flush. The man in front of her was no longer Hunter Keaton. He was a man who needed to take what was his. To take control and own every damn part of the woman who stood before him—which was her.

  He was the monster he had told her about, warned her about—and the sight of him had her entire body on fire.

  He grabbed her arm and spun her around, pulling her back against his chest. Somehow, she knew last night was going to have nothing on what he was about to do to her now, and it thrilled her.

&
nbsp; “You know what I’ve been wondering the whole night ever since I saw you in this dress?” His hands settled on her waist.

  “What?” Her voice came out strained—shaky.

  Slowly, his hands moved down her hips until he reached the hem of her dress. When he wrenched the fabric up over her waist, she gasped.

  “I was wondering whether you were wearing any underwear or not.” He glanced down. “And I guess that’s a no.”

  “I thought you didn’t fuck the same woman twice.”

  He was still staring down at her naked ass, licking his lips like he wanted to devour every inch. “Yeah, well, apparently rules are meant to be broken, as they say.”

  With a hard tug he yanked the top of her dress down, and the fabric was all bunched together around her waist. When he took both her breasts in his hands, her eyes rolled closed, the sensation shooting straight down to her core.

  “You have the most amazing tits. So soft,” he kneaded them lightly, “and big,” then cupped them in his palms before pinching her nipples between his fingers, “and I can’t wait to fuck them.”

  Everything was already throbbing, pulsing, aching for him to take her. The way he touched her, the way he seemed to want to own her with his every move, made her want to give him everything she had to give. Her body, her mind, her soul…her heart. That was if she even had a heart.

  More and more he rolled her breasts against his palms, and when she opened her eyes she saw how he watched her in the mirror, his hair hanging over his eyes.

  “What are you doing, Ace?”

  “I’m giving what you want.” He kept on tugging at her nipples, causing soft moans to escape her.

  “And what is it you think I want?”

  “Sex. To fuck. You need it to escape, to clear your head of all the voices.” More tugging at her nipples. “The pleasure that consumes you is the only thing that sets you free, even just for a little while.”

  Her hips started to move, to grind against the hardness that pushed against her ass. “You think you have me all figured out.”

  He flexed hard, almost letting her lose her balance. “No. But I know you need this. You’re a broken soul, Scar. Just. Like. Me.”