“Aren’t you going to open that?”
“I-I... no, I’ll just…” My vision blurs while fear throbs through me. It’s another letter from whoever has discovered me. I can tell from the writing. I don’t even want to know what it says but I’ll have to open it eventually to find out what they want. But not in front of Hunter.
Hunter scowls. “Is it another letter?”
“How am I meant to know when I haven’t opened it?” I snap.
He closes the door carefully and approaches me with even more caution. Strong hands curl around my arms before I can back away. His gaze searches mine. “Has anything else happened? Mitch said you were fine—”
“I am fine.”
He studies me for a few moments more forcing heat into my cheeks and releases my arms. I allow myself a breath of relief but it’s for nothing as he reaches past me and snatches the envelope.
“Hunter!” I protest and make a grab for it but it’s too late.
With a rip, he opens the envelope and spills its contents onto the kitchen counter. A pink letter and a DVD—a porn film, one with my old self on. I can’t hold back a choked sound and I clap a hand over my mouth, powerless to do anything but watch as he picks up the case and turns it over to study the back. Not meeting my gaze, he places it down and proceeds to open the letter and read it. He rubs his forehead.
I gulp and clamp my arms around myself. This is it then. It’s all over. I’ll have to move now. The other letter could have been a prank but this confirms it. Whoever is sending the stuff knows about me. And now Hunter does too. How can I stay to face his disgust?
He waves the pink letter at me and I brace myself. Breathing grows harder. Of all the people to discover the truth, did it have to be him? I could bear it better from someone else but not Hunter, a man I am insanely attracted to and who actually, in spite of his disappearing act, I can’t help respect. His honesty and determination puts me to shame.
“I-I think you should leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Hunter, please. I don’t want to talk about it. Go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He inches closer. “I know, Jess. I know it all. I’ve known for a while.”
“What?” I whisper.
“I know about your past. That you were a porn star. I know what you’re running from.”
“Oh God…” Bile rises in my throat and I fight the need to bend double. My cheeks burn. How could I have thought this would be different? That I could keep my past from him. It always finds a way out. And now I’ve probably lost the closest thing to—I don’t know—true love, I’m ever going to have.
His features blur in front of me and my chest compresses. I need some air. I have to get away. Turning blindly, I grope for my handbag on the counter.
“Jess!”
I don’t even look back when I stumble away, nearly tripping on the worn carpet. He makes a grab for me—I feel the rush of air past my arm but I’m gone. I’m out the door and storming down the corridor. My feet pound in time with my heart. I’m almost waiting for the floor to crumble beneath me, because that’s how it feels. As if the world has fallen out beneath my feet. I want to smack my palm into something for being such an idiot. This was exactly what I was protecting myself from and yet I walked recklessly in and convinced myself this time would be different. Convinced myself I was a better person than I really am.
My heart ratchets when I hear a door slam and footsteps following. I pick up my pace and throw myself around the corner, almost missing the first step down. A hand curls around my upper arm and jerks me to a stop as I reach the next floor. I’m pushed to the wall and it winds me slightly. Once I look up at him, he’ll see the tears in my eyes. I can’t do it so I keep my face lowered. What would I see anyway? Disappointment? Condemnation? I’d rather remember when Hunter looked at me like all he wanted to do was lick me from head to toe.
“Why are you running, Jess?” His voice is gruff and it tugs at something inside.
“Because you know,” I mumble.
I do not want to be doing this. I’ve barely managed to suppress the memories of my past as it is. I can’t go over it again now just to appease his curiosity. And that’s what it will be. Maybe he’ll listen for a bit and pretend he gets it, but you can always see it. The judgment. Guys like to make-believe they ‘d like a whore in their bed, but when it comes down to it, they would never marry the whore.
“What?”