CELIA

I woke alone, and turned over, reaching out to feel how warm the bed was so I had some idea of how long Hunter had been gone. The bed was cold, so I knew he must have left soon after we had sex.

I didn't know what to think of things at that moment, my emotions all confused and my gut slightly sick with worry and at the same time, excited that what was happening between us felt like more than just servicing Hunter's needs.

I didn’t want to be merely an easy way for him to get off. I wanted to be the one he turned to because he wanted and needed me.

Me…

His shell was tough, though, and it was hard to read him. I figured that tough shell was from years fighting and taking body blows, and then his time in the military. You had to be exceptionally tough to be a Marine and to go into Special Operations Forces, no matter what branch of the military you were in.

Those soldiers were the elite of the elite, tough in mind and body.

Hunter was tough, but was he hard to the core?

That's what I didn’t know.

It felt as if he was softening towards me. The fact he got so upset after seeing my bruises suggested that he felt more for me than he let on. I was more than just a fuck toy, like he said I was. It seemed personal to him because he cared about me as more than just a convenient receptacle for his dick.

I didn't want to hope too much. That way lay disappointment and heartbreak.

So, instead of hoping too much that Hunter had changed, and now actually felt some semblance of affection for me besides enjoying my body, I turned over and tried to go back to sleep. Of course, that was a hopeless venture. Now, my mind was working overtime wondering how Spencer was and what my mother thought of Hunter showing up and punching Spencer's lights out.

I wished I could have witnessed Hunter punching Spencer. It would have felt like payback and like justice for all those times Spencer had hit me or Graham. I didn't really want Hunter to become one of those men who beat people up without thought, but he was trained as a fighter and a soldier. I had to accept that part of him. As long as I saw the other part, the tender part that touched my bruises and felt rage that I had been hurt, I could accept it.

Even though it was only six, I got up instead of lying in bed for another hour with my eyes wide open, and went to the bathroom to have a shower and get ready for the day. When I was done, I dressed and tried to make myself somewhat presentable. Then I went to the kitchen where I found a pot of fresh coffee and a note from George that he was downstairs and there were fresh eggs in the fridge.

I smiled and took them out, and fixed myself some scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice to go along with my coffee. Then I sat at the island and ate, reading over a copy of the morning paper, and wondering where Hunter was this early in the morning, and why he hadn’t stayed with me.

After about an hour, the door opened and George came in. He smiled when he saw me and came over to the island, peering over my shoulder at the paper.

"How you doing, Celia? Did you have good sleep?"

"Yes," I said, smiling at him, unable to resist liking him despite the fact he was a Russian and, perhaps, a thug at heart. "I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Where's Hunter?"

George shrugged. "He went out for run and then went to gym to do some work. Couldn't sleep. He said he would be back later. You have class today?"

I nodded, and thought about my schedule. "At ten. But I'd like to stop by the hospital before, if I could, to see how my brother is doing. Would that be okay? Is James available?"

George nodded. "Of course. I call. You tell me when you're ready and I tell him."

"Thanks," I said. "Before you go," I said, feeling like I wanted to talk some more to George about Hunter, "tell me more about how you met Hunter. I know it was in the military in Afghanistan, and that you were a mercenary who worked with his unit, but how did you two become friends?"

George stopped and pursed his lips in thought. "When you fight with a man, side by side, risking life, you become blood brothers," he said and glanced at me.

"Do you have a family?"

"Me? No. I am old soldier who can't go home and sit quietly. Have war in blood. I meet Hunter. We do rescue for resupply convoys attacked by enemy. We spent time together when we both have leave. We become good friends. I trust him. He trust me."

I didn’t really understand the military hierarchy, or what role mercenaries had in the war, so I nodded and let it go.

"He is good man, Celia," George said.

"You've said that before. If he's such a good man, why is he back involved with the family business? He's working directly for the Romanov family."

"He is doing legitimate security work for Romanovs. No mafia stuff."

I nodded. "It surprised me he was willing to quit the Marines," I replied. "He always talked about getting the family business out of organized crime."

"He is doing best he can," George said, his tone a bit impatient, like he resented me even questioning Hunter. I brushed it off. If George was at all involved with the Russians, he would be defensive.

"I hope so," I said. "Thanks for the fresh eggs," I didn’t want him to be mad at me so I decided to drop it.

"Is no problem," he said and waved me off. "I go do work now. You let me know when is time to go."

"I will."

I watched as George got himself a cup of coffee and then went to his little office space with the bank of video screens. After I cleaned up my dishes, I went to my own little office and sorted through my files to find the articles I needed to read before class and then tucked them away into my book bag.

I went to George. "I'm ready now," I said, checking my watch. It was almost eight. "I'll stay with Graham for an hour and then after my first class, maybe I can swing by the dorm and see if my friend Amy is there. She has class with me after. We could go together."

"Sure thing," George said and picked up his cell. "I call James. You can go right down to loading dock. He will be waiting."

"Thanks, George," I said. "See you later."

He nodded and spoke into the phone. I lugged my book bag and threw on my jacket before taking the service elevator to the main floor. I walked through the empty floor to the loading dock and sure enough, when I opened the rear exit, James and the black SUV were both waiting for me.

I could get used to having a driver.

When I got to the hospital, Graham was sitting up in his bed, sipping a bottle of Ensure.

"Is that breakfast?" I asked, horrified, putting my book bag down and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He nodded and raised his eyebrows. "It will be until I get this jaw unwired. At least it's chocolate fudge."

"Chocolate fudge for breakfast?" I replied, making a face. "That would make me puke."

"You always liked eggs and toast for breakfast," Graham said and smiled. "When Dad used to take us out for brunch after mass, you used to have eggs and sausages and I always had pancakes."

"Mutt and Jeff," I said with a smile, remembering what our father—our real father—used to call us. I always looked up to my big brother, and always wanted to be with him and do things with him. He let me tag along most of the time when he was still young enough not to worry about his reputation with his friends. It endeared him to me in a way that could never be erased, even if he got me into all this trouble because of his bad business deals.

"How are you?" he asked. "You have a bruise on your neck. Not Spencer again?"

I reached up and felt my sore neck, rubbing it gently. "I gave him an earful. He didn’t like it. Don’t worry," I said with a laugh. "Hunter punched his lights out, apparently."

"Hunter fought Spencer?" Graham said, his eyes wide. He glanced away. "I always thought that of the three of us, Hunter would be the one to get into a fist fight with Spencer. He's the only one with the balls to face up to him. Hunter hated Spencer even before all this happened. Even before Sean died."

"I know," I said and remembered kissing Hunter's bruised and scraped knuckles the previous night and how that had turned into so much more. What would Graham think if he knew what was happening between us? He would be livid, no doubt about it.

"I'm staying at Hunter's safe house."

Graham frowned. "What?"

"After Hunter beat up Stepan, Stepan's cousin picked me up and took me to his restaurant to make a show of force to Hunter. Hunter came and rescued me, with weapons drawn. He said I was at risk and so I'm staying at this big old warehouse with 24/7 security guards and an old Russian mercenary who is providing personal security for me."

"What the fuck, Celia?" Graham said through gritted teeth. He put down his bottle of Ensure and frowned. "When did all this happen?"

"Just this week. I guess Stepan's cousin saw me with Hunter at the club and thought I could be used as leverage. These mobsters seem to be always looking at how they can get one up on each other."

Graham lay back and sighed, glancing out the window. "I'm sorry I did all this to you. It's my fault," he said and turned back. I could see real pain in his eyes.

"There's nothing we can do about it now. This will all blow over soon," I said, remembering what Hunter told me. "Hunter paid off your debt, and he's giving me back my inheritance."

"What?" Graham's eyes widened. "The entire thing?"

I nodded. "Yes. Every penny."

Graham lay back and stared at the ceiling. Then, he turned to face me. "What does he expect in return?"

I shrugged, not certain I wanted to confess just yet. "He's doing it out of loyalty to you and me."

"Just out of loyalty?" His eyes narrowed.

"What else? He hates our family, but he still feels some loyalty to us because of his friendship with you."

That seemed to appease him for the moment so I didn’t say any more. I didn’t want him to think I was prostituting myself in repayment of his debt. That would infuriate him and make him feel even worse. I wanted him to recover, and if he was really upset and if he hated himself for what he did, that might not be good for his health.

"I don’t like the idea of you staying at his safe house, or whatever it is," Graham said. "If he forces you to do anything against your will…"

So Graham's mind went immediately to where Hunter’s had…

"I'm not doing anything against my will," I said, my voice firm. "I'm my own person, Graham. You know that."

"Only too well," he said and sighed.

We talked for a while about his physiotherapy, and the second surgery he'd have to have done on his arm because of a problem with the way it was healing. After about an hour, I stood up.

"Well, I better go. My driver will be waiting and I want to stop by and pick up Amy."

"You have a driver?"

"He's on Hunter's staff."

Graham sighed. "I'm sorry that all this happened."

"Don't mention it," I said and kissed him on the forehead, stroking his hair back. "What's done is done. I'm fine. I'm going to class now, and then I'll go by and see Mom."

"Tell her not to worry about coming up to see me," Graham said when I picked up my book bag and started to leave. "I know how hard it is for her to get out."

"I will," I said and waved at him. "I'll stop by later tonight."

"Okay," he said and I turned and left him, feeling a little catch in my throat to see him still so incapacitated. It would be a few weeks before he could go home, so I'd have to be the go-between for my mother, who would be unable to spend much time in the hospital, visiting. I had been surprised she’d gone on the cruise, but it had been on her bucket list. Since they had a special room on the ship for disabled people, she and Spencer had gone as her birthday gift and to celebrate fifteen years of being together.

I’d hated those fifteen years. Fifteen of the worst years of my and Graham's lives. When my father died and my mother turned to Spencer to take over, my own happiness disappeared and Graham and I took comfort in each other's company.

I wished my father and mother had never gone on that trip down to New York City. If they had delayed for even an hour, things—my life—would have turned out completely different.

One bad decision and that was it. That was all it took to change a life.

I knew that now with such clarity that I weighed every decision I had to make as if it might change everything in an instant. One false move and that was it. Game over. I didn't always live up to my goal of thinking twice, looking before I leapt, but I tried.

I went to class, barely able to concentrate on the material. I was looking forward to seeing Amy for our next class so James drove me over to the dorm. I knocked on Amy's door and she opened, peering around the door at me like she was afraid.

"Celia!" she said, her mouth opening. "You're here. I didn’t think you’d come today."

"Why not?" I asked as I entered her tiny apartment, a few doors down from my own dorm room.

"Haven't you been listening to the news?"

I frowned and sat down on the sofa across from her flatscreen TV. On the screen was a breaking news report showing a wooded area by the bay somewhere along the coast outside Alexandria, Virginia.

"What's this?" I asked, glancing at her face, which was white.

"I was just going to call you again," she said and sat down beside me, one of her arms going around my shoulder. "Spencer's dead."

My eyes flew open and I gasped out loud. "What?"

"I tried to call you a few minutes ago but you didn’t answer. I texted you as well."

I removed my phone and stared at it. The battery had died in the night and I didn’t think of charging it.

"Oh, my God, my battery died." I showed it to her. Then I turned back to the television. Amy increased the volume so we could listen. "Spencer's dead?"

Of course, my mind went immediately to Hunter. He'd left me in the night and had punched Spencer out the previous day.

Had he killed Spencer?

If he didn’t kill Spencer yesterday before he came to me, he could have killed him in the night after he left me…

"Oh, my God," I said as I watched the video footage, taken from a helicopter which was hovering above a path along the bay by Alexandria, Virginia. I remembered that Spencer used to live there, had worked there after he graduated from law school.

According to the news report, his body had been found in a copse of trees by the path. He'd been shot. That was all the news reporter said.

Spencer was shot… He hadn’t been beaten to death—so at least that much was true. Hunter hadn't beaten him to death by accident the previous day.

What was Spencer doing in Alexandria? Why had he gone there late at night?

More importantly, where was my mother?

"Give me your phone," I said and reached for it when she grabbed it from the coffee table. "I have to call my mom."

I dialed my mom's cell, and the call went to voice mail right away. I glanced at Amy, panic rising in me. "She's not answering."

I listened to the message and then spoke. "Mom, call me right away and let me know you're okay!"

I didn’t know what else to do so I called my Auntie Diane, who lived in New Bedford. She answered right away.

"Hi, Auntie," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. "Have you spoken with my mother?"

"No," she said and I could hear the panic in her voice. "I've been calling her ever since I heard on the news that Spencer was murdered. I've called the police and they're on their way to the house to check."

"Oh, my God," I said. "I can't believe it."

"What was he doing in Alexandria?" she asked, sounding confused. "He hasn't been there for fifteen years."

"I have no idea."

Of course, I had some idea. Hunter had told me he found out something about Spencer from when he lived in Alexandria. He'd asked me questions about whether Spencer had ever sexually abused me, so I had assumed Spencer had done something bad there—child pornography?

I watched in silence as the news report showed a picture of Spencer from stock footage they must have had from cases in which Spencer had been the DA or Assistant DA. They also showed a photo of our family, with Spencer and my mother, Graham and me. It was probably one of the only photos taken of us and it was one I hated because Spencer had his hands on my shoulder. I was frowning.

I wondered who had given them that photo, then remembered that the local paper had done a spread about Spencer when he became Assistant DA back when he and my mother were first together. I’d hated him back then. I hated him now.

He was dead. I couldn’t get in touch with my mother.

I called Hunter's number, and listened as the line rang and rang. Finally, it went to voice mail.

"Hunter, it's me, Celia. Have you heard the news? Spencer's dead and I can't get a hold of my mother. Call me right away."

Where was Hunter?

"I don't know what to do," I said, glancing at Amy.

"You can't go to class," she replied.

"Should I call Graham? He should know."

"Do you want to go to your mom's house?"

I nodded and stood up. "James will take me. Come with me," I said and grabbed her hand. "I don't want to go through this alone."

"Let's go."

When we reached the car, James was standing there, waiting. "What's the matter?" he asked when he saw me. "Your face is white as a ghost."

"Can you take me to my mother's place? My stepfather's dead. I need to see if she's okay and she's not answering the phone."

"Sure," he said and opened the door. "You should call Hunter."

"I tried, but there's no answer."

"Call George," he said and I nodded, getting in the rear passenger side. Amy got in the other side and we drove off.

I dialed Hunter's number once more but there was still no answer and it went to voice mail again.

"Hunter, please, call me when you get this."

Then, I dialed George's number. He answered on the second ring.

"George," I said, my mind a blur. "Is Hunter there? He's not answering his phone."

"No, he is not. I haven’t talked for several hours."

"When you talk to him, tell him to call me right away."

"What is wrong?"

I took in a deep breath. "My stepfather's dead," I said and closed my eyes.

"Oh, I am sorry," George said, his voice sounding shocked. "Was not Hunter."

"Are you sure?" I said, feeling very bad about the prospect that Hunter may have killed Spencer. "He hated Spencer. He blames Spencer for his brother's death."

"No," George said, his voice a little more certain. "I know. He didn't kill."

"Then where is he?"

"I don't know. He will call soon. Don't worry."

"Tell him to call me," I said and then hung up.

I wasn't sad that Spencer was dead—just shocked and fearful that Hunter had killed him. Fearful that I couldn’t get in touch with my mother. Had whoever killed Spencer killed her as well?

Amy took my hand and together, we watched out the windows in silence as the streets of Boston passed by.

END OF BOOK THREE

BOOK FOUR will be out in June!