Page 9 of Regret

Chapter 4

There was something about this Hunter guy that prickled the nerves in the back of Scarlet’s neck. The way he stared at her and his entire demeanor toward her was like he knew her…or at least he thought he knew her. This didn’t sit well with her.

After running from her past for years, she had learned to always trust her gut. If something didn’t seem right, it probably wasn’t. And something about this Hunter guy wasn’t right.

Scarlet glanced at the other side of the club where he had been sitting for the last two hours. He hardly ever took his eyes off her, staring at her like he knew something she didn’t. Paranoia had been Scarlet’s companion for a long time, and around every corner all she could see was her past somehow finding its way back to her, infiltrating her life once again, tormenting her. This was why Scarlet had never been able to settle. Her survival depended on her ability to run and disappear.

But there was something about this big, bulky man with green eyes that seemed to have the demonic power of possession that triggered her already heightened paranoia. There was definitely something more than him just being a customer trying to get his flirt on with her, staring at her cleavage.

Most of the crowd had died down since it was nearly two a.m. Scarlet gave her last customer his order of scotch on the rocks and then loosened her apron.

It had been a while since she had pulled a double shift and her feet were aching, begging for a little rest. Getting home and flopping down on her bed like a piece of meat never seemed more enticing as it did right then.

Just as she turned around, Joe walked up to her. “Are you calling it a night?”

Joe wasn’t an unattractive guy with his dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin. He had that whole Latin lover image going for him, which the women loved. Scarlet, not so much.

She sighed, not in the mood for the whole “I’m interested in you” flirty conversation.

“Yeah, I’m beat.”

When she tried to move past him, he gave a tiny step to the right, blocking her way. “That’s a pity, ’cause I thought maybe we could go grab a drink somewhere.”

She looked up into his dark brown eyes that made her think one thing and one thing only—boring as hell.

“It’s two a.m., Joe. I just want to go to bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Positive.”

Again she tried to get past him, but he gave another step to the right. “I’m sure you can stay awake for just another hour, can’t you?”

God, she did not have the strength for his persistent Latin ass.

“Joe, I told you—”

“Just one drink.”

“She said no, man.”

Scarlet looked up and saw Hunter standing on the other side of the bar like he was about ready to fling across it and hand Joe’s ass to him on a silver platter.

Joe turned toward Hunter. “Back off, dude, this has nothing to do with you.”

Really? A pissing contest? At two in the morning? So not in the mood.

“Okay, while you two figure out who’s able to piss through that five-inch granite countertop—I’m leaving.”

Scarlet took the gap and quickly brushed passed Joe, when he grabbed ahold of her elbow. “Scarlet, wait up.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Hunter giving a step forward, fists balled at his sides, but she shot him a warning glare before turning back to Joe. “If you don’t take your hand off me within the next two seconds, I will shove your balls down your fucking throat.”

Joe probably felt the fury resonating in her words since he immediately let go of her elbow and took two steps back, holding up his hands. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Good boy.”

Scarlet grabbed her jacket and made her way out from behind the bar and through the club. Nothing annoyed Scarlet more than men thinking they could intimidate the shit out of everyone, especially women.

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