The ache seemed to spread through his chest, a grinding pain.
He took a breath. Then another. But the pain didn’t go away and for the first time in his life, he didn’t welcome it. Didn’t want it.
“Fuck.” He pushed the coffee away violently, brown liquid spilling everywhere.
He didn’t have work and he couldn’t concentrate on his bike. He couldn’t call Vin and get him to come over for a few beers either.
He had nothing.
He didn’t want nothing.
What he wanted was Ellie. But she wanted love. She wanted forever. And how could he give her those things when he didn’t even know what they meant?
Hardly conscious of what he was doing, he pushed himself away from the bench. Went back outside, down into the garage. Grabbed his helmet from off the back of the Ducati. Got on.
You don’t even know what love means.
Perhaps it was time to find out.
Half an hour later, he pulled up outside his father’s house and for the first time in years he was glad to see Philip’s Audi wasn’t in the driveway. When he knocked on the door, the old unease pulled tight inside him and he couldn’t seem to remember why he was even here. What the hell he was trying to prove.
But then the door opened and Liz was standing on the doorstep, his opportunity for escape gone. She smiled as she saw him. “Hunter,” she said in her sensual voice. “What a surprise. How nice to see you. Why don’t you come in? Your father isn’t at home.”
Hunter stared at her. She was perfectly groomed, as always, her blonde hair in a perfect cap. Makeup immaculate. A slinky dress that showcased her perfect figure. Beautiful. Stunning.
He’d wanted her so much once. Had loved her. Would have done anything for her. And he’d hated her in equal measure.
But now he felt…nothing.
Liz raised an eyebrow at his silence. “Well, don’t just stand there, darling. Come in.”
“I’m not coming in,” he said at last, finding his voice. “I came by to tell you that I’ve finally accepted what you did to me. I’ve finally accepted the truth.”
A wary look flickered through her blue eyes. “What truth?”
“That you abused me.”
Shock crossed her face. “I what? Don’t be ridiculous. I never did—”
“You manipulated me. You lied to me. You did things to me I didn’t want. You abused me.”
Liz paled. But her red mouth still curved in a smile. “Abuse? Don’t be silly, darling. That’s not what happened at all and you know it. You wanted it just as much as I did. Haven’t you forgotten?”
“No. I haven’t forgotten. Just like I haven’t forgotten how I told you no. Or how you didn’t listen.”
She gave a funny, high, shrill little laugh. “It almost sounds like I forced you, Hunter. And we both know I didn’t do that. Oh no, you kept coming back for more.”
Once that would have made him crawl with inexplicable shame. But now he felt…Christ, he almost felt sorry for her. “Because I was sixteen, Liz. Because I was a kid who’d been manipulated into thinking he was in love. By a sad, desperate, thirty-eight-year-old woman.”
Fear flickered over her face. Then it was gone, replaced by contempt. “I wasn’t desperate, sweetheart. You were the one who was desperate.”
All the anger and shame had fallen away from him now. He could see the lines around her eyes, the powder that had settled into them. The age spots on her hands. The mascara that had started to flake away from her eyelashes. A stain of lipstick on her teeth.
She looked sad. And old. And frightened. Clinging to her youth any way she could.
“You were lonely,” he said softly. “Weren’t you?”
The contempt had vanished from her eyes, revealing her desperation. She took a little step forward. “You understand then? Your father never paid me much attention and you were so handsome.” She put her hand on his arm. Just lightly. “The way you looked at me made me feel beautiful.”
A part of him felt sorry for her. For her loneliness. But it was only a small part. Because there was no excuse for what she’d done to him. None at all.
“Loneliness doesn’t excuse your behaviour. If you’d wanted a lover, you should have found one your own age,” he said. “An adult. Not a child.”
Her fingers stroked him, a sensual movement. “Oh come on,” she murmured. “You weren’t a child. You were a man. You got hard, Hunter. I was there, remember?”
“Just because I was hard doesn’t mean I consented.” Because he knew the difference now. Ellie had shown him.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You wanted—”
“No,” he said interrupted forcefully. “I didn’t want what you did to me. I didn’t want your touches. I didn’t want your kisses. I didn’t want them then and I don’t want them now. I never wanted them. Understand? Never, ever. Now take your filthy hand off my arm.”
For a second the polished, beautiful mask slipped, her expression twisted with anger and fear. “So is that why you’re here, sweetheart?” she spat, her fingers dropping away. “To say your affecting little piece? Your little confession?”
He almost smiled. “Actually there’s just one other thing.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.”
She laughed. Brittle. Sharp. “Is that it?”
Yeah, that was it. He smiled at her, then he turned around and went back down the garden path.
“Hunter.” Her voice was like cut glass. “Hunter, stop.”
But he didn’t.
Because he’d gotten what he’d come for. He did know what love was. And it wasn’t anything to do with the angry, bitter, lonely woman calling his name. Or the shame or the guilt or the dirty endless desire.
Love was what he’d come home to whenever he opened Ellie’s door. Love had been what he’d seen in her face whenever she looked at him. Had been the warmth in his heart whenever he’d held her in his arms.
That was love. And it made what he’d felt for Liz seem a shadow. A facsimile. The faintest, most blurred of copies.
No wonder he felt nothing when he looked at Liz. His heart wasn’t here.
Ellie had taken it with her when she left.
Chapter Fourteen
Ellie hated goodbyes. The check-in process had been great in that it had completely taken her mind off the fact that in fifteen minutes she was going to have to walk through the gates and leave behind the life she’d once had. Leave Vin. And Kara.
And Hunter.
But no, if she started thinking about Hunter she would break. She would grab the nearest cab and go straight to his house and fling herself into his arms and tell him she’d stay. She’d give up everything for whatever he wanted to give her.
And that was something she couldn’t do no matter how much she wanted to.
She had her pride. And she had strength. A job she wanted to take. A life she needed to find. And okay, if he didn’t love her, she would cope. She wouldn’t break.
Vin stood near the departures area with his hands in the pockets of his jeans as she finished with the check-in and came for the final goodbye. The look on his face was grim, his jaw way too tight. Kara had come out of the shop she’d been browsing in as soon as Ellie appeared, grinning away. And given the grin it might have looked as if she was excited and pleased to see her off if not for the fact that her mascara had started to run.
“Don’t cry,” Ellie said to her thickly. “Don’t you dare freaking cry.”
“Are you kidding? I never cry.” Kara stepped up and wrapped her arms around her in a monster hug. “Go get ‘em, babe. You’re going to bring Tokyo to its freaking knees.”
Ellie choked back the tears, squeezing her friend tight. “You have to come visit, okay? Promise me?”
“Hey, just try keeping me away. I’m going to need an excuse for a manga field trip in a week or two, I just know it.” She released Ellie, taking a few steps back, one hand swiping under her glasses and getting melting mascara everywhere.
Ellie swallowed hard then turned to her brother. “You remember what you promised me?”
The expression on Vin’s face was taut with emotion. “Yeah,” he said in a rough-sounding voice. “I remember.”
“Good. Now gimme a hug.”
Her brother swept her up into an embrace that nearly cracked her in two. Ellie squeezed back. Hard as she could. “I’ll be okay, Vin,” she whispered in his ear. “I really will.”
Vin released her finally, looking down at her as he stepped back. “I know,” he said. “You’ve always been okay, haven’t you?”
Tears filled her eyes. “Thanks to you.”
He blinked at that and looked away. “Go on, get on that bloody plane.”
Yeah, she’d better, otherwise she was going to be a complete mess.
Bending, she picked up the backpack and jacket she was going to take with her. And as she did so, she couldn’t help looking toward the airport entrance, searching for the one person she knew wouldn’t be there and yet quite desperately wanted to be.
He hadn’t rung her. Hadn’t contacted her. Not even a text. And she couldn’t pretend that hadn’t hurt. Couldn’t pretend she hadn’t cried her eyes out in the ladies’ loo of the pub they’d all gone out to for farewell drinks the night before.