Too Much to Lose (18 page)

Funny how I never intended to
tell him anything but he still found out more about me than anyone else. And
yet I know nothing about him. I debate calling him when I get home but I really
don’t want to listen to any excuses. I pause in the hallway outside my door. Should
I call him? Hunter was always honest. Perhaps he might tell me the truth about
why he dropped out of my life as suddenly as he’d entered it and I won’t be
left wondering why. I’m not sure I can face it though.

I traipse down the stairs, avoiding
touching the filthy metal railing. Downstairs, I pause at the mailboxes to pick
up any letters. I don’t get much post seeing as I’m trying my best to stay ‘off
grid’ but the odd college letter arrives. A pink envelope sits in my slot and I
stop breathing.

I grab it and flip it over. My
insides bunch when I spot the careful cursive on the front. No address, no
stamp. Only my name. Bile rises in my throat and with trembling hands, I open
it.

The paper is floral and scented.
The smell makes me wrinkle my nose.

There’s one line of writing on
it in the same handwriting. One line that scares me more than anything else
could.

I know who you are.

My knees threaten to give way
and I expel a sob. After all this time, someone has figured me out. Everything
I’ve worked for is ruined. A person comes in the door behind me and I spin
wildly, stuffing the letter into my bag. I let loose a breath when I recognize
the woman as one of the occupants from the floor below. She doesn’t acknowledge
me when she brushes past and grabs her mail.

The vague notion it could be
Hunter strikes, but it doesn’t ring true. Whatever I foolishly believed about
him might be wrong but why drop out of my life to start tormenting me?

Which means someone else knows
about my past. But who? Hunter was the first person I let get close and even he
never knew. A colleague from work perhaps? Or one of my old friends? Pete? I
shake my head and crumple the paper into a tiny ball. Pete and my friends
wanted nothing to do with me. If they somehow found out where I’d gone, they
wouldn’t resort to sneaky messages and flowers. No, they’d come right out and
say it. Knowing Pete, he’d have turned up somewhere nice and public and showed
everyone the real me.

Dots swim in front of my eyes
and my knees really do buckle. I sink down onto the grimy tiled floor and rest
my back against the mailboxes. What do I do now? I can’t afford to move again.
I can’t think how someone’s figured it out. Few people knew my stage name. I
mean, that was the whole point of being Trinity Sparks—to protect my identity.
Only the production company and my old friends can connect them.

A young mum with a baby on her
hip comes in through the front door and I jump to standing, regretting the
movement when my head spins. She gives me an odd look before heading up the
steps. My pulse thuds in my ears and I pull out my phone to glance at the time.
I need to get to work.

Sucking in a breath, I force
myself to step outside and dart a look around. I blink in the sunlight and scan
the busy street. No one suspicious. No figures lurking in dark corners or
people waiting to taunt me. I swipe a hand down my trousers and start walking
to the bus stop. Maybe it was just some crazy person and they don’t really know
anything. It’s probably my paranoia making it worse.

Yes, that’s it. I draw my
shoulders straight. My fears are making this into something it’s not.  I mean,
they haven’t come out and said who they think I am. And it’s only a couple of
bunches of flowers and a few notes. Someone playing a twisted game with me. The
knot in my stomach tightens when I consider they know where I live and work. But
what else can I do?

I reach the bus stop as the red
bus turns up and I file on behind the queue of waiting passengers. After
handing over my travel card, I slot myself in between the people standing at
the front and grip the railing while trying not to see everyone else a
potential psycho. No point in blowing it out of proportion yet, I tell myself.
It’s probably nothing.

It’s at times like this I wish
I had someone to talk things over with. My throat aches as my heart squeezes.
Someone like Hunter.

Hunter

Mitch greets me with a quick
grin and places a pint in front of me as I settle into the booth in our usual
haunt. Connor looks up from the pool table to give me a wave, brushing his fair
hair from his eyes.

I scowl at Mitch. “I’ve been
trying to call you.”

Leaning against the pool cue,
Mitch gives me a once over. “I had a job, man. Had to go out of the country
quick. Besides, I tried calling and you didn’t answer.”

Yeah, I was still stewing from
what I’d found out. Couldn’t even face my best friend. “You were meant to be
keeping an eye on Jess.”

“She wasn’t having any of it.
Besides, I don’t think she’s in danger anymore and neither does she. I told her
to call if she needed anything but frankly, I don’t think she wants anything to
do with either of us anymore.” He frowns.  “You look a damned wreck.”

I bite back a groan. I
am
a wreck. “Thanks.” I take a lengthy drink of my pint and relish the cool tang.

“Jess didn’t look much better,
you know.”

Eyes narrow, I glare at Mitch
and try to ignore the stab of my heart. He can have no idea how much I’ve
missed her. How I regret my words. How I’ve battled with myself. She’s a porn
star. How could I look her in the eyes after finding that out? And with a history
like that, it doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to realize the
accusations of theft must be true.

“Glad you could finally grace
us with your presence,” Connor says with a grin as he strolls over. “You’re up,
Mitch.”

“How’s it going, Connor?” I ask
as he slips into the booth opposite while Mitch pots.

“Not bad. Busy as usual. Though
not as busy as you it seems. I can’t remember the last time you’ve blown us off
three weeks running.”

I grimace. “I’ve had a lot on.”

“Hey, I get that running your
own business takes up time. You know I get that more than anyone, but you need
to take a break too. You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He’s right though. I haven’t
slept in a week and it has nothing to do with work. Well, maybe it started with
work but now it’s just Jess. I haven’t worked all week. Haven’t even contacted
the client in spite of his many calls and texts. I couldn’t bring myself to.
Connor might run his own business—a motorcycle chop shop—but he has no idea the
crap I’ve been dealing with these past weeks.

“Mitch said you’ve had women
problems.”

“Something like that.”

Connor chuckles. “Well, you
know where I am if you need advice. I’ve had my fair share of woman problems
unlike our friend here. His only problem is making sure they don’t run into
each other.”

Mitch approaches, a smug look
on his face and I glance over at the table to see he’s won. Connor follows suit
and groans.

“Next round is on you, man,”
Mitch announces as he puts the pool cue away.

“Like usual.”

I laugh and a little tension
seems to slip from my shoulders. I’ve been sitting around like a damned
heartbroken teenager all week, barely eating, hardly sleeping. All I’ve been
able to think of is Jess and the image of her stripping off her clothes for the
camera. And if I’ve been lucky enough to be able to sleep, I dream of her.
Images of her undressing for me, and only me, quickly turn into full blown porn
films in my imaginings. With Pete, and anyone else I know, fucking her. I grip
my pint and try to concentrate on what Connor is saying but it’s a challenge.

Mitch sits next to me and slaps
a hand to my back. “You ever going to suck it up and go apologize, Hunter? What
happened anyway?”

“Nothing,” I reply lamely,
aware of my grumbling tone.

I really don’t want to explain
that I’ve fallen for a criminal and she turned out to be a porn star and now I
suspect I might be nursing a broken heart. She’s like an addiction, that woman,
but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. There’s no patch or replacement
drug for Jess. I’d hoped coming out tonight would help and while I feel better
for it, the idea of going back to my place, alone, just to dream of Jess again
fills me with dread.

“Don’t you want to hear how it
went with Holly?”

I blink.

“The info you wanted? On Jess?”
Mitch clarifies.

“Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“What’s it to you?”

“She’s a nice girl.”

“Stay away from her,” I growl. 

“Hey, all I said was she’s a
nice girl. She’s been through a lot of crap.” He sighs. “You don’t want to know
why she ran away then?”

“No.” I’m not sure I want to
know. My gut churns. “Why?”

“Looks like the aunt’s husband
was an abuser.”

The blood in my veins feels
like it turns to ice water. “What?”

“Yeah.” Mitch sighs. “The
wife—Jessica’s aunt—left him and changed her name when it all came out. Someone
reported him for sexual abuse but I guess it never stuck because nothing
happened to him. However, the wife must have thought it was true as she
reverted back to her old name and moved away. Never divorced him though. Guess
she wanted nothing more to do with him. But that would explain why you couldn’t
trace her.”

“Godammit.” I slap my palm on
the table. “Asshole. Why didn’t she ever say?”

Mitch shrugs. “Sometimes it’s
easier just to outrun your past rather than deal with it, I guess.”

Mitch’s words ring in my mind.
Isn’t that what I’ve been doing? Running away, avoiding my responsibilities?

Connor shakes his head. “Makes
me glad I never got into the security business like you guys. My job is nice
and simple. Build a bike, sell a bike, get paid. Done and dusted.”

Mitch laughs. “That’s not what
you normally say. Weren’t you just complaining that a customer wanted you to
change the paintjob and that it would look shit?”

Connor looks sheepish. “It will
look shit,” he grumbles. “But I’d rather put up with that crap than deal with
abusers and lost girls.”

I shake my head. Lost girl? Is
that what Jess is? I want to jump to her defence, which is a weird emotion for
me. I’ve been swinging between regret to disgust to… I don’t know what. But
Jess is so much more than a lost girl.

“Hey, Hunter might be getting a
rough deal, but I have things sweet.” Mitch flashes a wide smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” Connor chuckles.
“Don’t rub your success in. Everything comes easy to you, doesn’t it, man?”

Mitch lifts a shoulder. “What
can I say? I’m blessed? Nothing quite like travelling the world and guarding a
few hot women for big bucks. You should have stuck with being a bodyguard,
Hunter.”

“Fuck no. I’d die of boredom.”

“Gotta be better—”

A group of four girls approach
and Mitch pauses to study them. “Ladies,” he greets, flicking on a charming
expression.

I suppress a groan. I’m not in
the mood for company. I glance over, barely taking note of what they look like—unusual
for me seeing as being observant is part of the job. Early twenties, various
hair colours.

Not Jess.

Fuck. I scrape a hand through
my hair and force a smile onto my face. I need to get that woman out of my
head. One of the girls mutters something about being new to the area or something.
It’s probably bullshit but Mitch doesn’t care. He stands and I follow suit. Two
girls slide into the booth between Connor and I and I sit as Mitch wraps an arm
around a blonde’s shoulders. Typical, Mitch. I envy him. No worries, no stress.
I was like that before Mam’s cancer. I wish I could be the same again then my
heart wouldn’t ache and sickness wouldn’t churn in my stomach.

The dark haired girl next to me
introduces herself but I immediately forget her name. Connor engages the other one
in conversation and I try to focus on the pretty woman. She’s hot. I should be
into her. She’s definitely interested.

“I’m Hunter,” I respond.

She offers a sweet smile and
settles a hand on my arm.
Definitely
interested. “That’s a great name.”

“Thanks, so is yours.” I wish I
could remember it.

I somehow stumble through the evening.
I try to get drunk but lose interest in my beer too and end up depressingly
sober. The girl—Charlie, I finally figure out—doesn’t seem to notice my disinterest
and is definitely tipsy as well as hot for me. The touches increase until she’s
practically wrapped around me. I glance over at Mitch who offers me a grin and
I realize the man is going to be enjoying a threesome tonight.

Charlie leans into me and puts
her lips to my ear, nipping at my lobe. “You fancy coming back to mine
tonight?” she whispers.

I force myself to debate it
even though my instinct is to say no. Drawing away, I eye Charlie and try to
summon some enthusiasm. But I’m not interested. I haven’t even thought about
another women since…