Brent was every ounce the ugly fucker Hunter had imagined. With his pale skin and long white-blond hair, he looked like a fucking white rat. And that chick from Game of Thrones. Or was it that evil dude in one of the fuck loads of Harry Potter movies?
But it was something about his eyes that didn’t seem right. They were this hazel-brown color that just didn’t fit in with the rest of his features. It was definitely obvious he was adopted. There was no way this freaky-looking, ugly-ass motherfucker was related to Scarlet.
When Hunter glanced at Scarlet, he could see her body shaking. If it wasn’t for Colton holding her around the shoulders, she would have collapsed to the floor.
Hunter had to get her out of there. He had to protect her and get her the fuck away from this sick son of a bitch before it was too late. But the motherfuckers had them blocked in. Plus, Colton had taken Hunter’s gun. Unfortunately for soldier boy, Hunter had something else stashed away.
Colton moved Scarlet closer to the white rat motherfucker, and she paled instantly. “Brent,” she whispered, and it sounded like she used her last breath to say his name. The fear in her voice vibrated all the way through to Hunter’s goddamn chest. It was like he could feel her pain, her fear penetrating his soul one sharp knife after the other.
A conceited smile spread across Brent’s evil face before he held out his arms toward Scarlet like he was ready to welcome his long-lost sheep home.
“Did you miss me, Little Red?”
Oh, hell no!
“Don’t you dare fucking talk to her, you son of a bitch!” Hunter didn’t think. He just acted when he pulled the knife from his boot and lunged forward. He could already see himself slicing the son of a bitch from limb to limb until there was nothing left but pieces of rotting flesh.
Unfortunately, he was so blinded by rage he didn’t see the guy who came out of fucking nowhere, jumping in front of him and punching him right in the gut. Even though it felt like his insides had exploded, he fought back, swinging his fists with every ounce of strength he had.
Two arms wrapped around his waist and Hunter got tackled to the ground, the knife flinging from his grip and skidding along the floor. Fists smashed into his ribs and back, feet kicking him in the stomach. The pain was excruciating, but his will to save Scarlet was stronger.
Suddenly, he got jerked up by two guys, each holding one of his arms.
Brent glanced from Hunter to Scarlet. “I see you told him about me. That’s good. Now everyone here knows who you really belong to.”
“She does not belong to you, you sick motherfucker!” Hunter struggled against the hold the two guys had on his arms, but it was no use, they had him locked in place.
With slow, intimidating steps Brent walked closer to Scarlet, and all Hunter could think about was stopping him. Again he tried to break free, but his arms got twisted upward, his shoulders feeling like they were being torn off his body. Then Hunter felt the cold blade of his own knife pressing into the skin of his throat, the sharp threat stilling him, forcing him to watch as Brent approached Scarlet like a slithering snake.
“Do you have any idea how I’ve searched for you, Little Red? I have used every resource at my disposal to find you.” Brent glanced at Colton. “But apparently, you’ve had some help over the years.” And then his snake eyes settled on her again. “But alas, here we are. Back together, thanks to our mutual friend here.”
Hunter knew it. He fucking knew it. Every instinct inside him had warned him about this Colton Riggs fucker. There was just something about him that rubbed Hunter the wrong way. A certain kind of determination mixed with a kind of melancholy that could only be a recipe for disaster—and apparently, betrayal.
The second Brent stopped in front of Scarlet, she took everyone by surprise—including Hunter—by spitting right in Brent’s face. On the inside, Hunter was pulling out the pom-poms and cheering her on. But he knew a guy like Brent wouldn’t let an act of disrespect like that just slide without punishment.
The moment Brent lifted his arm, Hunter saw nothing but blinding fucking red, his vision clouded with black rage as the bastard struck Scarlet across the cheek.
Hunter roared, but Scarlet didn’t make a sound. Not a fucking sound. But the way she glared at Brent, her iced-blue, cold hard stare pinned on the motherfucker in front of her, Hunter knew she was trying to fight back.
She was fighting. Scarlet was fighting.
That’s my girl.
Brent removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the side of his face. “I won’t tolerate that kind of disrespect, Little Red. It would be best if you refrain from such disrespectful acts.”
Scarlet tilted her head to the side, her cheek red from the blow. After staring at him, unblinking, for a few painfully silent seconds, she spat at him again.
“Fuck you, Brent. Fuck you and that tiny shriveled up dick of yours.”
Oh dear God, no. Scarlet, what the hell are you doing?
Again Brent wiped the spit off his face. He seemed calm—too calm.
After placing his handkerchief back into his pocket, he smiled—and then punched her in the gut.
The sound that came out of her mouth was bone numbingly horrific. It was like he’d shattered her insides with one blow, and Hunter felt his own insides burn, his soul screaming, raging with a need to tear Brent’s fucking head off.
Hunter started tugging and pulling, fighting to get free. All he could see was Brent’s blood coating his hands as he beat the motherfucker to death. Hunter could already taste the blood he would spill—if he could only fucking get loose.
Another man came to help the two guys who had a hold on Hunter’s arms. There was no way Hunter would have been able to pull free. Never had Hunter’s mind been filled with so many murderous thoughts of killing and clawing his way to her, to make sure Brent didn’t lay another filthy hand on her. But all those thoughts were fucking useless if he couldn’t get free.
Scarlet’s head was hanging down as she coughed, gagging while Colton continued to hold her.
Brent cocked his head to the side. “It seems like you grew a backbone during the seven years we were apart. I can’t remember you having this fight in you back then. If you did,” he grasped her by the chin and pulled her face up to him, “I would have enjoyed breaking you so much more.”
Scarlet pinched her eyes closed, and Hunter knew she was losing it. She was losing her fight, her strength. Hunter had to do something.
“You really are one twisted son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Hunter sneered.
Brent turned toward him. “Ah, the infamous Hunter Keaton. The private investigator I hired who ended up stabbing me in the back.”
“Once I figured out what a cock sucker you really are, stabbing you in the back is the least painful of all the things I want to fucking do to you.”
Brent grinned. “Did you love her, Mr. Keaton?”
Hunter glanced at Scarlet, and Brent noticed.
“Oh, I’m not talking about Blanchette here. I’m talking about Willow, the sister you fucked first.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes as he struggled to get a grip on his anger. His heart was no longer beating, it was fucking pounding inside his chest, his blood nothing but melted pools of lava pumping through his body.
“Don’t you fucking talk about her, you murderer,” Hunter shouted.
Brent let out a mocking gasp and placed his hands in front of his mouth. “Oh dear. Did you finally figure out that your dearly beloved Blue’s accident was, in fact, not an accident after all?”
How did he…
“Yes,” Brent continued. “I know everything there is to know about you, Mr. Keaton. I’m an intelligent man, and never venture into any kind of business transaction without making sure I know everything there is to know about the other party.”
The slick, sly, suit-wearing ugly rat motherfucker.
Hunter jerked, trying one last time to free himself—but failed. Out of breath, he glared at Brent with enough hate to fuel an entire legion of demons. “Well, if you’re that intelligent, you also know that I’m going to be the one that drives a knife through your fucking heart.”
“Temper, temper, Mr. Keaton. No need for any more violence. But I have to say, I do have one regret.” Brent walked up, coming so close Hunter could feel the fucker’s filthy breath against his face. “I regret not fucking little Willow too.”
And then Hunter lost it.
He screamed like a demon being tortured, begging to be set free—to kill. “I’m going to kill you, you sick motherfucker! I swear to God I’ll rip your goddamn throat out!”
While Hunter thrashed and pulled and tried his motherfucking best to get loose so that he could tear the bastard in front of him apart, Brent just stood there looking at him with his freaky eyes that seemed like they were laughing at him—mocking him.
Now,” Brent straightened the sleeves of his navy blue jacket, “our time is almost up. So I’m afraid we will be unable to finish our little chit-chat.”
When he turned around, walking straight toward Scarlet, Hunter thrashed some more, but to no avail.
“Mr. Riggs,” Brent started, slowly dragging his finger down the side of Scarlet’s face, causing her to jerk away from his touch. “I think it’s time we get our plan underway.”
Colton tightened his hold on Scarlet. “Our deal?”
Brent’s gaze flitted up to his. “I’ll keep my end of the bargain, Mr. Riggs. I’ll introduce you to Rex and make sure you are accepted into our circle of—how can I put it?—traders of the flesh.” He smiled wickedly, and Colton just nodded.
Who the fuck was Rex? Why did Colton want in to this circle? And why the fuck didn’t Colton look like a man who just got what he wanted?
Hunter glanced at Scarlet. And why the hell does she suddenly look like someone who had an epiphany punched right into her?
Brent brought his face closer to Scarlet’s, placing his hand behind her neck. For a moment, Hunter was sure she would vomit, judging by the sudden faint look on her face. Jesus Christ, the fear that had to be pulsing through that woman right now…and there was not a damn thing Hunter could do about it.
While brushing his cheek against hers, Brent closed his eyes as if he relished the feel of her skin. “It’s going to be so much fun getting reacquainted with you after all these years apart, Little Red.”
“We were never together, you fucking psycho.” Scarlet thrashed violently, desperate to get away from him, but Colton only tightened his hold around her chest.
Brent smiled. “On the contrary, Little Red, we were together quite a few times, weren’t we? And I remember one specific time when it was just as pleasurable for you as it was for me.”
Scarlet jerked her head up, and Hunter saw the tears in her eyes. She told Hunter about the one time her body betrayed her as Brent ripped a climax out of her. That was when Brent finally managed to break her in half. The time he tore her soul to pieces. And by God, the fact that Brent knew about it, that he knew what he made happen to her body, had to be her worst fucking nightmare.
“Scarlet, don’t let him get to you,” Hunter yelled, and she looked at him. The moment their eyes met, Hunter stopped struggling against the hold two men had on him. “Scar,” he said softly, “whatever you do, you fight. You fucking fight, you hear me? Do not let him win.”
Tears started to stream down her face, and Hunter felt the warmth of his own tears sting his eyes. He didn’t know whether he wanted to cry because he knew what was about to happen, or because he felt so goddamn helpless just standing there, unable to do anything.
“Mr. Riggs.” Brent let go of Scarlet’s neck and gave a step back. “Why don’t you take care of Mr. Keaton here while we escort my Little Red down to the vehicle waiting for us?”
“No!” Hunter screamed, starting to violently thrash and jerk again.
No fucking way. He promised her. He fucking promised her that he would keep her safe, yet here he was doing everything but that.
“Brent, you motherfucker! I swear to God I will find you and I will tear you the fuck apart!”
Scarlet kept staring at him, her eyes nothing but orbs of defeat. Hunter couldn’t breathe—he couldn’t fucking breathe.
His entire body was numb. His insides felt like they had been twisted with barbed wire, like the blood in his veins had turned to venom, poisoning him from the inside.
God, the pain.
The pain that was shooting from his chest straight through his heart was almost unbearable.
Scarlet started screaming, punching, and kicking the moment Brent took her from Riggs.
“Hunter!” She kept on screaming, and he could hear the fear in her voice, the desperation in the way she called out his name, begging him to help her. “Don’t. Please don’t! Take your hands off me. Hunter, don’t let him take me!”
“Scar!” Hunter yelled. He tried to push forward while he clawed and kicked at the two men making sure he would get fucking nowhere. “Scarlet. Fuck!”
A third set of hands pushed Hunter to the ground, forcing his face against the floor.
“Scarlet!”
“Hunter!”
It was no use. It was impossible for him to help her. All he could do was shout and scream like a man possessed.
While Hunter lay on the ground, watching helplessly as Brent led a screaming, fighting Scarlet away, all he thought about was how he had managed to fail her. It wasn’t just Blue he had failed anymore. It was Scarlet too. No matter how hard he tried, how badly he wanted to protect the people he cared most about, he always managed to let them down…to fail them in the worst possible way.
“Fight, Scar,” Hunter yelled after them. “Don’t you dare stop fighting.”
“Hunter!”
“Never stop fighting!”
And then the dam broke. The moment Scarlet was out the door, Hunter cried out as if his insides had been turned inside out. He screamed at the top of his lungs like the worst kind of pain was being inflicted on him—like his skin was being torn off inch by inch. Tears of anger, of rage, of desperation, and so much fucking agony spilled down his cheeks while he screamed her name over and over and over again.
“Hunter.”
A pair of hands jerked him up from the floor, and Hunter came face to face with Colton.
“Riggs, you motherfucker. Once I’m done with Brent, I’m coming after you.”
Colton held up his hand. “Stop with the threats.”
“How could you do this after you knew what that son of a bitch did to her?”
“I had no choice.”
“No choice!” Hunter yelled. “No fucking choice? Are you kidding me?”
“It’s the only way I can find her.”
“Find who?”
Riggs kept staring at him like he wanted to say something, but was biting his tongue. He sighed. “You won’t understand. But it had to be done.”
“Fuck you!” Hunter spat out.
Colton held up a taser, and Hunter started to laugh maniacally. “A taser, soldier boy? Really?”
“You’ll thank me for this one day.”
And then Hunter abruptly jolted forward as what felt like a million volts shot through his body, setting his insides—his mind—on fucking fire. Along with the waves of shock came flashes of memories. Memories of when Hunter had hope, of a time when he felt whole again. Images of blue eyes and full, heart-shaped lips rushed through his mind…all images of Scarlet. Blue was no longer there. She no longer owned that part of him that never allowed him to forget. But Scarlet did. Scarlet was there, in every memory, every moment, it was Scarlet’s face he saw. It was her…and now it would always be her.
The fiery shocks stopped, and everything around him slowly started to dim while it felt like he was falling to the ground in slow motion. His ears were ringing, his vision hazy, and his body completely numb.
When he finally landed on the ground, he vaguely saw a figure lean down. “I know you’ll find her again,” Hunter heard a voice say through the ringing still echoing in his ears.
What…?
And then there was…nothing.