Page 83 of Altered

I could feel my resolve wavering.

She was doing that to me.

She was making meweak.

"I know who you are, Hunter. I see therealyou." Hope looked up at me with those searing blue eyes and said, "And I love everything I see. I love you–"

"Don’t fucking say it," I warned her. Without breaking eye contact, I grabbed my glass and pressed it to my lips, enjoying the scorching burn as the whiskey trickled down the back of my throat. "Don’t tell me you love me when you're sleeping inhisbed tonight."

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Chapter Thirty-Three

Hope

I wasn't the type of woman who ended up at bars like this.

Bars that condoned drugs, fighting, violence.

Bars that were filled with dangerous people.

And this place was packed to the brim with the scariest kinds of people.

My heart had led me into the lion's den, and I was quite aware that I was in over my head in this place. But I didn’t care.

This was where he was, and I needed to be wherehewas.

"I'm so fucking in love with you," Hunter slurred. The stench of whiskey on his breath was potent. "And it hurts." I watched as he tipped the glass back and swallowed down another shot of Jack. "So fucking much."

His earlier words had hurt.

But like always, he had spoken nothing but the truth.

Problem was, that washistruth.

Not mine.

One look at Hunter's face, and I could tell that he'd been hustling.

The cuts above his eyebrow and his bottom lip were proof of that. One of his cheekbones sported a nasty purple bruise, but he was in one piece – which assured me that whoever had put those marks on himwasn’t.

"Hunter," I whispered, placing my hand on his, not caring who was watching us. "Don’t do this." I felt him stiffen beneath my touch, but I didn’t pull away.

He stared hard at our joined hands on the counter of the bar. "Me?" He shook his head and slapped the glass down on the counter before sliding off the bar stool. "Do you enjoy hurting me?" he demanded in low growl. "Is that it? Do you get some sick sense of self-worth knowing that you have two men willing to do anything for you?"

"No," I strangled out, appalled. "Of course not."

"No." He shook his head and exhaled a ragged breath. He stared down at me for the longest moment before letting out a humorless laugh. "I'm not doing this with you. Not tonight."

My eyes followed his every move. Raising his hand, he stroked the scar on my cheek with his thumb and said, "I'll be seeing you, Hope Carter."

"Hunter!" I called out when he broke free from my grasp and turned away, melding into the crowd. "Wait." Scrambling down from the bar stool I'd been sitting, I shoved past the hordes of drunks in my bid to get to him.

I managed to catch up with him midway on the dancefloor. Catching a hold of his hand, I pulled him to a stop. His body tensed up, my touch fucking with his head no doubt, but he didn’t look back.

"Walk away, Hope," he said in a low, gruff tone, keeping his back to me.

I couldn’t.

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