A cold feeling swept over him. Vin had been there through everything, the staunch friend who’d given him a place to go after his father had thrown him out. Had given him such trust. A trust he’d broken to indulge his own selfish urges.
Pain rested inside his heart. A pain that all the punches in the world couldn’t obliterate.
Feathers. He needed more feathers.
A sound came from behind him and he didn’t need to turn to know that Ellie had followed him. The pain twisted. He didn’t want her here the way he was feeling right now. He’d probably say something even more awful than he already had. Something that would hurt her or drive her away like he’d driven away Vin.
“Go away, Ellie,” he said, keeping his voice harsh.
No response. He lifted his head, met her gaze in the bathroom mirror. Her face was completely white, eyes blazing with an expression he couldn’t really interpret, only knew that there was pain there.
“I said I wouldn’t let you shut me out,” she said, “and I meant it.”
Oh Jesus. She just didn’t know when to quit. “What the fuck do you want from me?” He dropped the washcloth. Turned around. “I gave you sex. I told you all about that shit with Liz. What more do you want?”
A subtle kind of strength had crept into her expression, giving it an unyielding quality. Her eyes the colour of polished steel. Even since they’d been sleeping together, there had been times when he’d unconsciously looked at her, seeing the girl he’d once known. The child she’d once been. But not now. There was nothing childish about her, and he had the feeling he was seeing the true nature of her—strong and enduring and determined.
“I want you to acknowledge what happened to you,” she said clearly. “I want you to see it for what it was. You were abused, Hunter. Liz sexually abused you.”
Just as she’d expected, Hunter’s expression closed down. But not before she caught a glimpse of fear. The same fear she’d seen in his dark eyes downstairs in the garage.
He was afraid. Afraid to admit what she suspected that deep down he already knew. That he’d been preyed on. Manipulated. And she could understand why he didn’t want to. What man wanted to admit to being abused by a woman? What did that say about them and their masculinity?
Well, as far as Ellie was concerned it didn’t say anything. Because Hunter hadn’t been a man when it had happened. He’d been a boy. A sixteen-year-old child. It hadn’t been his fault.
“You don’t bloody know when to shut up, do you?” he said, brutally harsh. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Oh sure it hasn’t. That’s why Vin kept punching you in the head. And why you kept letting him.” She stopped suddenly, remembering something else. Hunter standing at the reception desk at the office, blood dripping down his arm. I caught it on a nail… A blood-tipped drawing pin in his pocket. Tattoos on his back. So many feathers… Ice slid down her back. “God, you wanted the pain, didn’t you? That’s why you took Vin’s hits. And that’s why you get the feathers done. Why you stick yourself with drawing pins.”
Hunter turned his gaze away, pulling the plug out of the basin. “I’m not discussing that with you.”
“Why, Hunter? Did you think you deserve it? Did you think Vin was right? That sleeping with me is wrong? Do you think we’re in an abusive relationship too?”
His head came up at that, darkness flaring in his eyes. “We are having an affair, Ellie.”
“Yes, we are having an affair. But that’s not what happened with you and Liz. She was a sexual predator who used her looks and your emotions to prey on you. And you know it.”
“No.” His voice was so flat, the denial so absolute there was no room for argument. “There was nothing abusive about it.”
“Nothing abusive? So you think it’s perfectly okay for a much older woman to seduce a sixteen-year-old boy?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, the darkness in his eyes growing deeper, blacker. “I don’t know how many fucking times I have to say this, but I’ll say it again since you don’t seem to want to listen. I wanted it. I wanted her.”
“So if Liz had been a man and you were a sixteen-year-old girl, you would have been quite okay with it?”
His posture tensed, his jaw looking even tighter. “I’m not having this discussion. So get out of the way.”
Ellie ignored him. Instead she reached out and put her hands on either side of the doorway, gripping the frame. Making sure that if he wanted her out of the way, he’d have to remove her physically. “No. You’re not running away this time, Hunter. I won’t let you.”
He took a couple of steps forward, stopping inches from her, towering over her completely. The darkness in his eyes made her want to back away. Let him go. But she wasn’t going to. Not this time. Vin had destroyed the delicate balance between them, shattered the fragile bubble she’d been living in. She had nothing left to lose now.
“Get out of my way, Ellie.”
She gripped the frame harder. “If you want out you’ll have to get out by force.”
The tension drew taut between them. His expression was frightening—so detached and yet the look in his eyes… There was nothing detached about it. Furious. Absolutely furious.
“You have to face this,” she said, keeping her voice level. Calm. “Men your age don’t randomly stick themselves with pins. Or stand there and let their best friends beat them up. You’re hurting and that doesn’t just come out of nowhere. I know you’re afraid. I know—”
He moved so fast she had no time to prepare, one arm sliding around her waist, bringing her up against him so hard all the air left her body.
“I’m not afraid,” he hissed.
She was naked underneath the T-shirt, the heat of his skin like an open flame burning through the cotton. A hot wash of desire swept through her. It would be so easy to let this go. To put her arms around him and let him do whatever he wanted with her. Drown herself in the pleasure of his touch. She only had a few days left after all.
But she couldn’t. Because he was more important. And she knew, she bloody knew, that this was the thing eating him alive. And she could not let that happen.
“If you’re not afraid, then why can’t you admit it?”
His arm tightened. “There’s nothing to admit. She seduced me but I wanted it. I wanted—”
“She manipulated you,” Ellie interrupted. “She took from you. She abused you.”
His arm tightened even more, making it hard to breathe. “No,” he denied hoarsely. “No, that’s not what happened!”
She could hear the desperation in his voice. Saw it in his eyes. He was clinging to his denial with everything he had. Her eyes filled with helpless tears because she didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to hurt him.
“It’s okay, Hunter,” she said thickly. “I know it’s scary to admit but—”
The words died in her throat as his other hand gripped her hair, pulling it hard, turning her tears into tears of pain. Fury burned in his gaze. Fury and desperation and something else she couldn’t identify. And then his head bent and he covered her mouth with his.
It wasn’t a tender kiss. Or even a sensual one. It was rough, fierce. She tasted blood, his blood. The blood from his cut lip and it must have hurt him, considering how savagely he was kissing her, but he didn’t flinch. And didn’t let up. The grip in her hair was punishing, pulling so tight the little prickles of pain became thorns dotting her scalp.
But she didn’t move. Didn’t struggle. Because he wasn’t fighting her, wasn’t punishing her. He was trying to escape the truth, she knew it with every breath in her body.
Eventually though, it hurt too much, and she let out a small, helpless sound of pain. And the agonising grip around her waist loosened so suddenly she gasped.
Hunter had gone white, his eyes like holes full of black water. “I wasn’t a victim,” he said roughly. “You understand? I wasn’t!”
Oh God. She put a hand to his face and he flinched away. But she didn’t remove it. Kept it there, pressed against his cheek. “I know, Hunter.” Tears filled her eyes but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. They weren’t important. “I know that’s what you think. But you were only sixteen. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Don’t. Don’t say it.” He kissed her again, harder, savage. His hands slid up underneath the T-shirt, gripping the softness of her buttocks, squeezing so hard she gasped. Then he broke away, ripped the T-shirt off her. He wasn’t gentle, his hands shaking with suppressed violence as he picked her up, jerked her fingers from the doorframe and walked with her into the bedroom.
Then he flung her down on the bed.
Ellie lay there. Didn’t move. Her heart felt like it was breaking apart because she could see the struggle on his face, feel his pain and anger leaking through his usual detachment like blood from an open wound leaking through a bandage.
His black eyes glittered as he looked down at her, the detachment slipping. His breathing sounded ragged, his movements as he undid his jeans sharp, jerky. Then he pulled them off so he was naked.