Page 6 of Tormented Bastard
Perfect for a Bastard
Chase
I was going to fucking kill the cocky bastard.
I know, he was just the messenger, but that was his bad luck.
I didn’t want to be staring at Eden Mitchell right now. It fucked with my head to see her. I’d finally begun to put my life back together, had found my little bit of peace here in Sandy Seas. How the hell had she located me anyway? Well, besides a traitorous and nosy Aussie.
“Hello, Chase.”
Her voice was controlled, cultured in a way it hadn’t been even a few years ago. It was sexy as hell and yet rubbed me the wrong way.
I turned my head to look at her and wished I hadn’t. She’d changed her hair since I last saw her. It was longer, brushing past her shoulders now. Where it had once reminded me of smooth caramel, these days it reminded me of light honey.
And her eyes? Fuck, those eyes had always been my undoing. All the greens and blues that swirled in them. Depending on her mood, some colors were more prominent than others.
Right now, they were a dark blue and wary.
Shake it off, Hanover. You sound like a damn pussy waxing poetic over her eyes and comparing her hair to candy.
“What do you want, Eden?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“What could we possibly have to talk about?” I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “Did Liz send you?”
I was firing my agent’s ass the next chance I got if she sent Eden out here.
“No. But I do have some business I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Business, huh?” The muscle in my cheek ticked, and my jaw clenched. If I didn’t let up, I’d break a tooth.
Chance cleared his throat. “Yep, so I need to get going. I’ll call you later, Hollywood.”
I didn’t respond, unsure of what I’d spew out of my mouth that I’d be sorry for later. As he walked by Eden, he stopped and patted her shoulder. “Good luck.”
Fucker.
The Aussie left, whistling for Pixy on his way out. After a moment, the sound of the engine gave way to the quiet, and the only thing I heard was my heartbeat in my ears. It even drowned out the waves crashing across the street.
I needed Eden to go. Get her ass out of here. It seemed four years wasn’t long enough to get her out of my system since I couldn’t continue to look at her and not want to touch her. She was my own personal heaven and hell all rolled into one.
“I don’t care what you want to talk about, Eden. I can’t help you. There’s your answer. Now get the hell off my property.”
“I’m not leaving, Chase. Not until you hear me out.” She straightened her spine and dropped her hands to her hips. “You owe me at least that much.”
My gaze flitted down to her chest where her red blouse stretched across her breasts that moved up and down with her breaths. My eyes snapped back to hers. “Owe you? I don’t owe anyone anything, Eden. You’d do best to remember that.”
That wasn’t entirely true. We’d done our fair share of hurting each other, and my actions were no small part of that. I should try to hear her out, but I knew what would happen if I had her around me for too long. She was my fucking kryptonite, and I was no longer anywhere near being a superhero.
She raised her chin in a defiant manner that made the blood rush to my dick. Fucking A.
“I’d do best to remember that? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, Hanover? I’m not some minion to you or one of your little groupies.” Her eyes flashed a blue-green that only served to make my palms itch to touch her.
I scoffed. “Groupies?” I held my arms out beside me, my bad shoulder protesting. “Where the hell do you think we are? You’re a long way from the city, Sunflower.”
Silence hung heavy between us. The nickname I’d given her in college slipped off my tongue, and I wanted to take it back. Nicknames signaled affection, and I didn’t have the capacity to give Eden or any other woman—but especially this one—that sort of thing.
