by Bella J.
“Jesus Christ, Robin. I almost fucking shot you.”
Riggs didn’t even blink, like he was used to coming within seconds of dying. Who were these people? The Russian Mob?
But then Riggs lifted his weapon and aimed it straight at Scarlet. Her heart stopped, her breath suddenly caught in her throat as she stared, wide-eyed, at the gun. When the loud crack of the shot sounded, all she could do was close her eyes, waiting for impact.
Far in the background she heard Hunter yell, and then she felt warm liquid splatter all over her face, dripping down her neck. When she opened her eyes and looked down, an SUV fucker lay awkwardly with his back against the wall next to her, half of his skull blown away. Every horror movie Scarlet had ever watched wasn’t enough to prepare her for that gruesome sight.
In a complete daze, Scarlet lifted a hand and wiped at her face. When she stared at her fingers, they were covered in crimson—blood. Nausea slowly started to spread through the pit of her stomach as she realized her nightmare had just turned into a real life horror movie. She knew the shit with Brent ran deep, but it was only now that she realized exactly just how deep.
While she stared at the red covering her fingers and palm, the warmth of the blood on her face burning her skin, she started to shake almost uncontrollably.
Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and turned her away from the dead body.
Hunter’s green eyes searched her face. “My God, you’re covered in blood.” He tore off a piece of his shirt and started wiping the blood off. “Are you okay, Scar?”
She couldn’t answer. The daze she was in rendered her incapable of forming a single coherent thought. All she saw was red…blood…death.
That was the problem. Death. It seemed to follow her wherever she went.
Riggs lowered his gun. “We need to go. Now. Follow me, the van is this way.”
Hunter continued to stare at her and lowered his hand to hers. “I got you, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She nodded and Hunter turned around, leading her as they ran after Riggs.
Gunshots came from inside the house as they continued down the path, and for some unknown reason, Scarlet felt worried about this Bruce guy who claimed to be her father. Was he in there alone? How many men was he fighting off? Who was firing those shots? Fuck, Scarlet. You hardly know the guy.
Just as they rounded the corner, a blue van came to a stop right in front of them. Riggs opened the side door. “Get in.”
Scarlet paused and gestured toward the house. “What about him?”
“Get in, Scar.” Hunter pushed her from the back and shoved her into the van.
“We can’t just leave him here.”
Riggs jumped in after them, acting like he didn’t even hear her.
Scarlet pushed past Hunter and grabbed Riggs’s arm. “Are you just going to leave him here?”
Riggs looked down at where her hand touched his arm, and then turned his gaze to hers. “My instructions are clear.”
“Really? And what is that, Robin?”
Riggs looked at her with a kind of intensity that forced her to lean back. “To get you out of here no matter what.”
His stare remained on her for a second longer, and Scarlet could see the resolve, the determination beaming from his chocolate-colored eyes. He was a soldier, and there was no doubt he would do exactly what he was ordered to do.
He removed his gaze from hers and spoke into the microphone attached to his wrist. “Drive. Now!”
“Hold up.” Hunter grabbed Riggs’s shoulder just as he was about to slide the side door shut. “There he is.”
All three of them stared at the front door as Bruce came running down the stairs toward the van.
How the fuck did he survive? When they rushed around the house, it sounded like fucking Pearl Harbor was going down inside. Yet there he was, seemingly unharmed…with no one following him.
My God. Did he…take out everyone? Shoot everyone inside the house?
Riggs reached out and Bruce grabbed ahold of his arm just as the van took off. Riggs pulled him inside and slammed the door shut with a loud thud. Bruce fell back on the seat across from her, throwing his head back as he tried to catch his breath.
“Are you all right, sir?” Riggs crouched down by the door, his eyes never leaving Bruce.
“Yes. I’m fine. Which is more than those assholes inside can say.” He smiled, and then his gaze landed on Scarlet, who stared at him, openmouthed, basically feeling confused as fuck.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“I’m fine.”
“Good.”
Hunter shifted closer to her, like he was trying to force himself into the picture. “Would you mind telling us who the fuck you are, and what the fuck just went down?”
Bruce narrowed his eyes. “Can you give an old man a few seconds to catch his breath first?”
“Judging by what you just came out of, you’re far from being an old man.”
Bruce grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It’s not meant to be one,” Hunter sneered.
Scarlet noticed how he leaned forward, almost like he was trying to shield her from Bruce. One would think he would know by now that she didn’t like a man who acted all alpha male when it came to her.
Scarlet sat forward and pushed Hunter back with her hand, then focused all her attention on the man sitting in front of her—the supposed faceless sperm donor.
“Who are you?”
“I told you, I’m your father.”
“I don’t buy it.”
Hunter shifted next to her, leaning his elbows on his knees. “If you don’t tell us who you are in five seconds, Robin here won’t be able to stop me from putting a bullet in your head.”
Scarlet noticed Riggs stiffen, his hand tightening on the gun in his hand.
Please can this conversation not end with flying bullets and splattering brain matter? She had already seen a guy bleed all over the deck she had sunbathed on a little over an hour ago, the red seeping into the wood. And not to mention the guy whose blood she still had splattered all over her face and hair.
She reached up, thinking of the blood, when she felt Hunter lightly brush a finger across her cheek, wiping away another smear of crimson. The touch instantly electrified her skin and a rush of memories of them together, bodies entwined, lips locked and breaths warm with desire, flooded through her mind. And so did the picture of the symbol that destroyed it all in a matter of seconds. The Celtic symbol of eternal love—or, in their case, eternal pain.
Scarlet shifted away from his touch, hating the pain it caused, and by the way he stared at her, he felt it too.
Just then, Bruce sat up straight, and Hunter lifted his weapon, aiming for Bruce’s chest. When Riggs was about to aim his gun, Bruce held up his hand.
“Stand down,” he ordered. “I’ve got this.”
“Sir?”
“I said stand down.”
Scarlet watched Riggs as he reluctantly lowered his gun and slowly crouched back down.
Hunter’s eyes never left Bruce for a second. Not even when Riggs threatened to aim a gun at his head.
“Hunter, what are you doing?” Scarlet whispered.
But he ignored her, didn’t even look her way. With eyes still on Bruce, he asked, “Who. Are. You?”
Bruce glanced from Scarlet to Hunter. “My name is James Baxter.”
Scarlet snorted. “I think I prefer Bruce.”
Everyone looked at her like she had just spoken in tongues. She pulled her hand through her hair and sighed. “Don’t mind me. You two continue your little face-off slash whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.”
Hunter shook his head slightly then focused on James. “So what brings you to our rescue today, James Baxter?”
“Like I said, she’s my daughter.”
“And like I said, I don’t trust you. You don’t just appear out of thin air after twenty-four years claiming to be her fath
er and then expect everyone to accept that little tidbit of information.”
James eyed Hunter with curious eyes before leaning back in his seat. “Fine. Ask me anything you want to know.”
Hunter lowered his gun a little. “Why did you—”
“I was talking to her,” James interrupted, and looked at Scarlet. “Ask me anything.”
Scarlet froze, feeling like she had this huge, bright spotlight over her. Why was it that she always had this big mouth that would never shut up, but whenever she really needed her mouth to work, it didn’t?
Hunter glanced her way, and she saw the concern in his eyes. It was hard to believe that just last night they were in the master bedroom of a huge mansion, and she was tied to the bed while giving this man full control over her body—something she thought she would never be able to do. And then, after making that giant leap of fuck knows what, it was like the universe tossed them this big old curveball consisting of one giant clusterfuck. The master of all revelations—no, the motherfucker of all revelations—got thrown right at their faces. The woman who was the root of all Hunter’s pain, the woman who got buried right along with Hunter’s soul, was none other than Scarlet’s dead sister—Willow. She was also the woman whose death Scarlet had carried on her own hands for the last seven years.
Yeah—it was that bad.
When she looked back at James, trying to concentrate on one clusterfuck at a time, there was only one question she wanted to ask. Out of probably two thousand questions, only one seemed to matter to her.
“Why now?”
James kept his gaze on her for a while before turning to both Riggs and Hunter. “Gentlemen, let’s put our weapons away, please.”
Riggs didn’t hesitate. Like a good little soldier boy, he placed his gun back in the holster on his side. Hunter, on the other hand, was his usual stubborn self and didn’t even attempt to move.
“Hunter,” she said softly. “Put away the gun.”
He tilted his head in her direction without looking at her directly. She saw his hesitation, and for a second she appreciated the fact that he was being so protective over her. Or was he?
Was he being protective over her, or was he just protecting himself? After all, his life was in just as much danger now as hers.
God, she hated the fact that she doubted him, his motives. But now was not the time for insecurities. And since when did Scarlet feel insecure about anything?
Hunter tucked his gun in the back of his pants and sat back.
James leaned forward, clutching his hands in his lap. “What I’m about to tell you might not make any sense, Blanchette.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. She hated that name. There was nothing good associated with it.
“Fine. Scarlet.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I know he’s after you.”
“Who?”
“Brent.”
“How do you know that?”
James glanced down at the floor like he was searching for the answer down there. “Because I’ve been watching over you for years.”
Scarlet’s spine stiffened, and she felt something warm cover her hand in her lap. When she looked down, it was Hunter’s hand covering hers, squeezing lightly. For a second, his touch warmed the chill that spread down her spine, but it only made her insecurities knock harder against her skull.
Trying to act as brave as possible, wanting to seem completely unaffected by it all, Scarlet removed her hand from under his, and focused on James again. “If what you say is true, you’ll know that Brent has been looking for me for years. So why did you only come to my rescue now?”
“Because things changed.”
“What things?”
Bruce shifted uncomfortably. “You know, normally, people who just met their father after twenty-four years would ask simple questions like whether that person knew your birthday, your star sign, or your mother’s name.”
“Well, you can ask Hunter here, I’m not your normal, average twenty-four-year-old.”
Hunter snorted. “Definitely not normal, no.”
“Shut up.”
Hunter nodded his head toward her and snorted. “See what I mean?”
“Anyway.” Scarlet turned back to James. “I do want the answers to all those questions as well, but I don’t think right now is the time for that. We’ve got much more important shit to worry about than whether you know my mother’s name or not.”
“Katherine Wolfe.”
Scarlet’s eyes shot up and she stared at him. He reached inside his jacket pocket, and she felt Hunter stiffen but then relax when James pulled out what looked like an old photograph. Scarlet watched as James stared at it.
“Her name was Katherine Wolfe, and I met her when she was nineteen.” He kept staring at the picture. “I loved her from the first moment I laid eyes on her.”
Scarlet leaned back. “Well, you’ve got your numbers crossed because my mother fell pregnant with me when she was in her late twenties.”
“I am your father, Scarlet.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that in between meeting you and having me, she married some other dude and had a daughter with him? My sister, Willow.”
Scarlet glanced at Hunter and saw him rub the back of his neck. She knew it was something he did when he was nervous, or when he felt uncomfortable. And yeah, the topic of Willow had sure as hell become one uncomfortable subject for the two of them. The subject of a conversation they probably needed to have in the near future.
She turned her focus back to James. James placed the picture in his hand face down on his leg. “Due to the circumstances your mother and I met under, we couldn’t continue seeing each other. So we went our separate ways, and she married Trevor Riley a year later.” There was no way anyone could have missed the pain, the longing, and the regret in his voice. And there was a distinct sneer when he mentioned Willow’s father. “Five years after she married him, your mother and I…we…”
Oh, hell no. “You had an affair, didn’t you?” Scarlet could see it on his face. The guilt was written all over his bald-headed, goateed, Bruce Willis lookalike face. “You and my mother had an affair, and that’s why she divorced Trevor, isn’t it?”
James shifted uncomfortably and looked everywhere but at her.
“Isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Motherfucker,” Scarlet whispered, and fell back in her seat.
“Your mother couldn’t live with the guilt, and that’s why she left him.”
Scarlet shook her head slightly. “Willow always said Mom was hiding something when it came to the reason she split from her dad. But Mom kept on insisting that they just drifted apart.” And then it occurred to her. “So I’m the result of an adulterous affair?”
“No,” Bruce said adamantly. “You were only conceived after she divorced Trevor. For a while after the divorce, we kept on seeing each other, thinking that maybe we could be together. But when your mother told me she was pregnant, I knew I had to leave.”
“Why? Why did you have to leave?”
“To protect you.”
“From what?”
He didn’t answer her. He just kept staring at her like he was willing her to understand. Understand what?
One of those awkward silences fell over all of them as Scarlet and Bruce stared at each other, until Riggs’s voice penetrated the stiff atmosphere.
“Sir, we’re nearing the rendezvous point.”
Hunter reached for his gun.
“There’s no need for that, son,” Bruce said, and Hunter paused.
“Don’t call me son.”
“Fine. Mr. Keaton, then.”
Hunter cocked his head. “You’re a well-informed man, aren’t you, Mr. Baxter?”
“I assure you that when it comes to my daughter, I always make sure I’m in the know.”
Abruptly, Hunter launched himself forward and grabbed James by the throat. Riggs reacted, but James held out his hand, stopping him.
“For a well-informed man, I can assure you that when it comes to this woman,” Hunter pointed at Scarlet, “you don’t know shit.”
The van stopped, but Hunter didn’t stop his threatening stance toward James, and he didn’t loosen his hold around James’s throat either. Scarlet still couldn’t decide whether he was acting like this because he was protecting her or protecting himself.
She placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Hunter, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to see if I can choke the truth out of him.”
James wrapped his hand around Hunter’s wrist. “I promise to tell you everything as soon as we get her to a safe place.”
“What makes you think I’m going to let you take her anywhere?”
“Because you and I have something in common.”
Hunter tightened his grip around James’s throat. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
“We both want to keep her safe, and make sure that son of a bitch doesn’t lay another hand on her.”
Hunter and James glared at each other, and Scarlet held her breath, not sure what Hunter’s next move would be. But after a few more seconds, Hunter finally let go of James.
“Sir, we need to make the switch.” Riggs remained still by the side door.
Hunter glanced from James, to Riggs, and then back to James. “What switch?”
James swallowed while rubbing his throat. “We need to switch vehicles in case we were followed. We’re taking her to a safe house and can’t risk being followed there.”
“What safe house?”
James straightened his leather jacket. “It’s a safe house in Davenport. Brent won’t be able to find her there.”
Hunter straightened out as Riggs opened the door. “Just so you know, I’m not letting her out of my sight. Where she goes, I go.”
It was hard to ignore how good it felt to hear Hunter say that, to hear that he wasn’t planning on leaving her. What she didn’t know was whether she wanted him to stay…or not.
