Lulu

I jumped, startled awake. My face was smooshed against the wall, butt cold and numb, head aching. Sitting on a toilet seat lid for however many hours I’d been locked in this bathroom was not the most comfortable of places to nod off. I stared at the door, tilting my head to the side, listening.

Then I heard it, the sound of Hunter’s heavy footfalls. His boots thudded against the hardwood floors as he moved around the cabin. A shiver traveled through me from head to toe. After he’d pinned me against the wall, those fingers wrapped around my throat, I’d thought, this is it, the end. But instead of choking me to death, he’d snarled, shoved away from me, and walked out. A door had slammed somewhere in the cabin and it had been silent—until now.

My mind raced. What was he doing out there? What did he have planned for me? Was he just going to leave me chained to the toilet to starve to death, or did he have something else in store, something far worse?

Josh would be awake now, wondering where I was. Missing me. Sara would have worked out something went wrong and would be sick with worry.

I tugged on the cuff around my wrist, the clank of steel against steel echoing loudly in the small room. Pain radiated up my arm. I’d been forced to hold it in a weird angle all night and now it ached like a bitch.

Jesus. I had to get out of here.

The sound of Hunter’s boots got louder, moving closer. The lock in the door clicked and then it was pushed open.

I sat up straighter, blinking against the light streaming in from behind him, into the dim bathroom. I didn’t say a word. He’d made it clear I wasn’t to speak. I watched him move closer, the nerves constantly going to town in my belly, increasing as he pulled something from his back pocket.

I shrank back unconsciously when he moved toward me. Even as I did it, it felt wrong. I’d never once been afraid of him. Even though I knew he’d come after me one day, I’d never believed he’d hurt me physically, not really. I mean, he’d once loved me beyond reason, had looked at me in a way no one else ever had in my entire life. When he’d made love to me, that big body covering mine, hands in my hair, eyes locked on mine, he’d made me feel treasured, precious.

How could that kind of love, that kind of connection, vanish completely?

The realization that it had was another blow. I’d done what I had to in order to protect him, but even if I told him the truth, he’d never believe it, not now.

He made a strange sound, kind of like a growl, making me jump, then released the cuff attached to the sink. Gripping my biceps, he hauled me off the toilet and dragged me out into the living room. There was a chair in the middle of the room and he shoved me onto it. Pulling my hands behind my back, he cuffed me again.

I waited for him to say something, anything, but he was silent. He just stood there, staring at me for so long that I wanted to squirm under that icy glare. It penetrated me like a laser. Like it had the ability to flay me wide open, reveal all the ugliness beneath. I tried, but I couldn’t hold that stare, not when what I saw there made me feel so raw, so damn exposed. The way he saw me was reflected in those hostile blue eyes, and what he saw was just another vicious emotional hit to add to the rest.

I was the woman who screwed up his life. The woman who betrayed him.

There was nothing else. Not anymore.

He moved suddenly, walking toward me. I braced.

He went down to his knees and, gripping my chin, made me look at him. “Ready for a chat, Lulu?”

I was chained to a chair, the man in front of me making no attempt to hide how much he despised me. But my traitorous heart did a happy little flutter. My body suddenly felt electric, a mix of emotions confusing my senses, making me tremble harder. Nerves, fear, lust, and excitement tore through me at the speed of light. My heart raced so fast I could feel the vein in my neck throbbing hard and heavy.

It’d been dark last night, but now in the light of day, I could see him clearly and I couldn’t help but drink him in. My gaze moved over him hungrily, taking in every detail of his face, his body. The clothes he wore. He was still lean but bigger than I remembered. His black T-shirt strained around his biceps in a way that made my mouth dry. The worn denim of his jeans hugged his long legs to perfection, cupping his dick in a way that made me hot and achy between my thighs. I noted absently that he hadn’t gotten another lip piercing, and his hair wasn’t cropped like he used to wear it. It was the perfect length to run your fingers though and hang on. It suited him. Made him look rougher somehow.

We’d always had an intense physical connection. From the first moment I saw him, when he started working for Pierce, I’d wanted him. Pierce was mean and cruel and sick, but he was also a coward, picking on those smaller and weaker than himself. Which was why he never went anywhere without one of his men. Hunter had occasionally filled that position, but mostly he’d been used for debt collection. Leaning on those poor bastards stupid enough to forfeit their repayments to Pierce.

Despite all that, as soon as I met Hunter, I knew there was no other man for me.

He’d looked at me across the room that day and something had happened. We both felt it. He approached me that afternoon, and I was helpless against his pull. I never, not once in the two years we’d been together, said no to him. For any reason. Whenever he wanted me, I was ready for him, just like I was now. That low ache began to throb, and I sucked in an uneasy breath at just how much I wanted him.

God, there had to be something mentally wrong with me.

Back then, we’d somehow managed to keep our relationship a secret. I’d told Hunter my stepfather wouldn’t be happy that I was dating one of his employees. God, when Pierce found out about us . . .

I shoved away the memory and gave him a jerky nod, telling him to get on with it.

He gave me a once over, something I couldn’t name moving through his eyes. “Where’s Pierce hiding?”

The question surprised me. I don’t know what I was expecting. No, that was a lie. I’d expected him to ask me why I’d done what I had, why I’d let him go to prison. It was screwed up, but his not wanting that from me, not needing those answers—it hurt. Deep. I thought he’d brought me here to finally learn the truth, and I realized in that moment how badly I’d wanted him to force it out of me, to make me tell him everything, to relieve me of this crushing guilt.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

He stood, putting distance between us again and leaned against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. He shoved his hands in his pockets. All casual-like. “No?”

This whole thing was bizarre. I mean, the setting for my interrogation was cute, almost idyllic. The furniture was worn in that rustic, cottagey way. Floral fabric covered couches, recycled timber table, and chairs. Trees rustled in the breeze outside, birds singing happy little bird songs. I shook my head.

Disgust curled his lips—lips that a few years ago, I’d had the right to kiss whenever the mood struck. And the mood had struck a lot. All I’d had to do was put a hand to his chest and look up at him. He’d instantly lean down, giving me his mouth. I could’ve kissed him all day.

For the rest of my life.

“You really are an exceptional liar, aren’t you?” he said.

“I’m not lying.”

He stood straighter, crossing his arms over his wide chest, expression hard and unyielding. “You need to start talking or things get a fuck of a lot more unpleasant for you.”

I tested the cuffs at my back. They were tight, no way was I getting out of this, not when he thought I knew where Pierce was.

“I don’t know where he is.”

A dark sound rumbled from his chest. “Is that where you were going after visiting your mom? Did I get in the way of a happy reunion last night?”

Anger flared, and I was glad of it. “No.”

He moved fast, came in close. His hands gripped the back of the chair on either side of my waist, caging me in. “I don’t believe you.”

I turned away, refusing to look at him. It hurt too damn much. He trailed a finger down the side of my face, his skin warm, rough.

His lips brushed my ear. “I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you,” he whispered. “Not even my old man, not even your stepfather. I fucking despise you. At least they were honest about what they were. They didn’t play nice while they planned to fuck me over. All I’ve thought about for three long years, locked in that fucking shit-hole, was getting you alone like this. Making you pay.”

My breathing started coming in fast, uneven pants. His words cut me to the quick. Knowing how much I’d hurt him, it hurt me, and I was so damn sick of living in pain. I knew that he hated me. Of course I did. But hearing it . . . God, it killed me. The fact that I was still breathing was irrelevant. “So what happens next? Beating? Torture?”

He stilled, motionless for several seconds. “I may want to make you pay, but you know damn well I’d never lay a fucking finger on you, on any woman.”

I spun to face him. “You kidnapped me, cuffed me to your car, and locked me in a bathroom all night. What am I supposed to think?”

“Sweetheart, you can think whatever you want. I couldn’t give a fuck. You answer my questions, I cut you loose. Simple.”

Another stab of pain. I cut you loose. Then he’d leave, put me firmly in his past, and make a new life for himself, with someone else. Look at someone else the way he used to look at me.

“I don’t have the answers you want.”

He gripped my chin again roughly, forced me to look into his eyes. “You’re back in town, and you expect me to believe you’re not going to pay Pierce a visit? His precious little protégée?”

Oh God.

“Jesus, look at you.” He looked at me in disgust. “You’re still that cold, twisted little monster he created, aren’t you? Did you and Pierce laughed when they locked me away?” He shook his head. “Don’t even try and sit there and tell me you don’t know where that fucker is. I know you do.”

I froze, a violent shudder moving though me. “I don’t know!”

He kept that hard stare aimed on me. Waiting.

I shook my head. I didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t believe me, anyway. I swallowed hard, close to hurling at his feet. The reality of the way he saw me, knowing that he thought it was all a lie, all of it, the love we’d had for each other . . . I couldn’t bear it. Josh’s precious face filled my mind and I turned away, staring out the window, at the morning sunlight shining in.

My mother would be awake now . . .

I jolted.

Oh God.

Had she called Pierce? Had she told him I was home?

Hunter’s eyes moved over my face. “What is it?”

I couldn’t answer.

Josh.

Pierce would find out about Josh.

There was no other way to describe what happened next. I just . . . freaked out. A switch flipped in my head, and I started to fight like a mad woman. I shot to my feet as best as I could, cuffed to a chair, and backed the heavy wood into the wall with all my strength. My body jarred painfully, but I kept at it, tugging at the cuffs around my wrists. “Let me go! Please, I have to get out of here.”

Strong arms came around me, holding me immobile. He went to work on the cuffs, releasing my raw throbbing wrists.

“Calm the fuck down.” Then he rasped against my ear, “You want to go, tell me what I want to know.”

His arms were locked around me, but the chair was gone, on its side on the floor.

“I don’t know anything!” I screamed in his face, all the fear and anger exploding from me. “I haven’t seen that asshole in three fucking years.”

Hunter shook me. “I don’t believe you.”

“Who do you think I’ve been hiding from? Why do you think I’ve lived in one dump after the next, only taking jobs that pay cash, moving all the time?” I wriggled and got some space, enough to shove at his chest. “Why?” Then I started punching and scratching, fighting as hard as I could.

I need to get to Josh before Pierce did. I needed to get to my son.

His hands came down on my waist. I was lifted off the ground then dumped on the couch. He came down on top of me, heavy legs tangling with mine, holding my hands immobile on either side of my head. “Lulu, calm the fuck down, now,” he barked in my face.

I couldn’t breathe, I was hyperventilating, his weight suffocating. “I need to call my aunt, please let me call my aunt Sara.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’ll find out. He’ll come after him.” The words were tumbling from my mouth. I was in a full panic, fear making it impossible to think clearly, to measure my words.

“Who’re you talking about?”

“Josh.” As soon as my son’s name exploded past my lips, I froze. Limbs turning to stone.

“Who’s Josh?”

I winced. Hearing Hunter say my son’s name was like a sucker-punch to the stomach. I didn’t answer.

His face twisted. “What the fuck are you talking about, Lulu?”

He moved his hips against mine, and I sucked in a breath. Oh God, he was hard.

I held his wild gaze, ignoring the way he affected me, and forced myself to calm down. “Please, let me call my aunt. Let me tell her I’m okay. She’ll be worried sick. She’ll call the cops if she doesn’t hear from me soon. Please. I’ll tell her I ran into some old friends, anything you want, but please let me call her.”

His gaze searched mine. “Not a fucking chance. I don’t trust you. I don’t believe one word that comes out of your lying, deceitful mouth. You put on a good performance, I’ll give you that. But you don’t leave this cabin until you give me what I want.”

The fake calm evaporated and I screamed. Lifted my head, my face an inch from his, and screamed my head off.

He smiled. “Like I said, you can scream all you want.”

Hunter

Lulu screamed, her small, soft, round body shaking beneath me.

The woman was freaking out, but I had no idea what she was talking about. She also wasn’t going to fill me in, that much was clear, and I doubted I could force it out of her. I frowned down at her then shoved the unwelcome concern building inside me down deep and slammed the door. Lulu was a goddamn pathological liar and this was just another act, her trying to get me to let her go.

One thing I did know for sure, though, was that she couldn’t hide from me—she was scared for her life.

Yeah, I’d chained her up, kidnapped her, but the fact that she thought I was capable of physically hurting her, got to me a fuck of a lot more than it should have. Jesus, she’d never known me at all. Maybe it had been Pierce’s idea all along, us hooking up. Maybe he’d planned it from the beginning. Maybe Lulu had let me fuck her, pretended to love me, all at her stepfather’s say-so.

Another shot of rage fired through my veins.

She had the sweet and innocent bit down, had played me, set me up. I’d followed her around by the dick for two fucking years, believed she was the woman for me. The only woman. And it beyond pissed me off that all I could think was how fucking beautiful she still was. How smooth her skin looked. How her gray eyes shone, how the flecks of blue that you could only see when you were up close looked like motherfucking sapphires. And then there was that gorgeous red hair of hers, so damn thick. I hated myself for how desperately I wanted to shove my fingers deep in all that warmth and make her beg me for forgiveness. For her to tell me I had it all wrong.

Fucking idiot.

She started struggling again, her curves crushed against my front, the softness between her thighs against my hard cock.

“Please. Please, Hunter.”

My anger shot higher. Hearing her say my name in that tone, from that traitorous mouth, did something to me, made me feel things I did not want to fucking feel.

“I love it when you beg, Lulu. Always have,” I taunted.

She screamed again, making my ears ring.

“If you don’t stop with the screaming, I’ll gag you.”

She was panting, tits rubbing against my chest with every indrawn breath. I wanted to strangle her for making me feel this way. I also wanted to tear her shorts off and fuck her into the couch.

“Please,” she whispered again.

I got in her face. “Bitch, you must think I’m stupid.”

She bit her lip and turned away. I should get off her, get the hell away, but right then I couldn’t make myself move. She’d always felt so damn good under me. Perfect. Fucking her had been my obsession. Just like this. Her beneath me, taking what I gave her. She’d loved it. Loved every fucking minute. She used to look at me like I owned the world, like she would die without me, and after the shit my brother and I had been through growing up, I’d needed that.

I hissed out a breath. Lies. All of it.

I stared down at her, the way her plump lower lip puffed out around her white teeth, the way her cheeks were flushed and pink. Her skin smooth, flawless. I’d always been fascinated by her skin. It was like that everywhere. I used to run my hands over her naked body for hours, tasting her, kissing her until she was squirming and dripping wet. She’d filled out a little. I could feel it. More tits and ass, belly softer.

My gaze ran over her face. Blood had dried on her forehead. I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but when I’d seen her, I’d lost it. It was like the past three years never happened. The word mine had been on a constant loop in my head as I’d strode toward her. That had freaked me the hell out, and I’d been too rough. She wasn’t mine, not anymore. I didn’t fucking want her. Yeah, I still wanted to fuck her, but I’d never feel about her the way I once had.

She twisted back, looking up at me, eyes soft, searching. “Can I get up, please?”

Fuck. I ignored the way her plea made my chest squeeze and scowled down at her. “You try to run, I’ll lock you back in the bathroom.”

I climbed up, and she scrambled off the couch. Taking her arm, I led her to the kitchen table and pushed her into one of the chairs. Her wrists were looking a little raw from all her struggling, so I unlatched the cuff and moved it to her ankle, attaching the other end to the wooden table leg.

Grabbing a sandwich and a bottle of water from the fridge, I put them in front of her. “Eat.”

She stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

“You think I plan on starving you to death?”

She cracked open the water. “How the hell would I know?”

“I told you. Start talking and I’ll let you go.”

“Really? You’re just going to let me go? You’re not worried I’ll go to the cops?”

I assumed I could scare her into silence when I was through. Not the greatest plan, but then I hadn’t really been thinking clearly.

It was obvious Lulu wasn’t going to open her mouth. She wasn’t a guy—I couldn’t beat it out of her. Maybe she was telling the truth about not knowing where Pierce was, about running from him.

But why the hell would she be running from Pierce? I scowled. I didn’t want to care, didn’t want to fucking know. And truthfully, I didn’t believe it. Not when I knew how close they’d been.

If Pierce was expecting a visit from her, his precious stepdaughter, at least now I had a way of drawing that fucker out. I planned to use it to my advantage. I just hoped like fuck I was right. At this point Lulu was my only way of getting to him.

I smiled at her. It wasn’t a friendly smile. “I know how much you like talking to the cops about me, Lulu, but you won’t be doing that this time.”

She looked away. “I have nothing to tell you. I know nothing. Keeping me here is a waste of time.”

I let my gaze move over her face, down to her tits. A whimper echoed through the kitchen and my gaze sliced back to hers. Fuck, did that sound make my dick hard. The mix of helpless and hungry pushed all my buttons and that pissed me the hell off. “Maybe you and I have a few other things to discuss. What do you think, Lulu?” I could try and pretend this was only about finding the painting, about finding Pierce, but that wasn’t the real reason I’d brought her here. I wanted . . . no, fucking needed her to look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.

She shook her head jerkily, a desperate look in her gray eyes. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“No? Not even why you stabbed me in the back? Why you lied to the cops?”

She bit her lip again, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

The rage that shot though me was unexpected, hitting hard and fast. My blood pressure shot to boiling point, and I fucking exploded. Picking up one of the chairs sitting around the table, I threw it against the wall. The wood splintered, the crash deafening. I hissed a breath out through my teeth. “You really are nothing but a heartless bitch, aren’t you?”

Her hands were braced against the table, body shoved back as far as she could go, visibly shaking. Fuck, I hated that she was scared of me and took pleasure in it at the same time. Yeah, I’d turned into one sick fuck. She’d made me this way. But then, betrayal, an unquenchable thirst for revenge, does that to a man.

Gritting my teeth, I sucked in a breath through my nose. I couldn’t fucking stand to look at her right then. I didn’t want to look at that perfect skin, those big gray eyes, that soft curvy body. The woman was fucking with my head, with my body. I hated her, and wanted her underneath me. Wanted to dump her ass at her stepfather’s doorstep and never look back—while the clawing need to take her home with me and never let her out of my sight again was a twisted, painful grip inside my gut.

Striding over, I undid her cuff, grabbed her arm and dragged her though the living room.

“H-Hunter . . .” she stuttered.

I pushed her through the open bathroom door, slammed it shut and locked it. Shoving my hands in my hair, I fought to get my shit together.

Fought not to open that door and make her beg for my forgiveness.

Not to throw her on her back and make her beg me to fuck her.

Shit.