Page 4 of Regret

“I just don’t, okay? I told you this last night before anything happened, and you agreed.”

“But that was before I knew it would be so great with you.” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth. He could see that she really, really wanted him to screw her again.

Maybe he could…

No. No, he couldn’t.

He rounded the kitchen counter and walked toward the front door. “I’m sorry, but I really have a lot of stuff to do today.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She grabbed her purse before she faced him again. “If you ever…you know, change your mind—”

“You’ll be the first person I’ll call.” He shot her a charming grin and winked at her. This seemed to ease her a little since she smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. But he knew there was no way in hell he would ever be giving her a call. It wasn’t his intention to act like a douchebag. He just wasn’t that man, the kind that could give a woman what she deserved. Love, appreciation, and a life-long promise.

Courtney smiled shyly. “Great. Um, thanks for…you know.”

“I know.”Now please fucking leave!

“Okay. I’ll just—”

“Go?”Yes, please.

“Yeah.” She gave a few small reluctant steps until she reached the door. “Goodbye, Hunter.”

“Goodbye, Britney.”

“Courtney.”

Ah fuck!

When she closed the door behind her, he was once again happily his lonesome self in his apartment. Bliss.

Hunter let out a sigh, finally feeling like he could breathe. He hated the morning after almost as much as he hated it when his best friend, Adam Masters, gloated about all his sexcapades. Even though he had known Adam almost all his life, his friend still had the talent to irritate the shit out of Hunter.

Just as he was about to grab a folder off his desk, he caught sight of the two dates inked on his left inner forearm. Two dates that had ultimately changed his life forever.

For a moment he allowed just a sliver of pain to grab hold of his heart, to squeeze another ounce of life out of him. This always happened afterward. The pain and regret would always be worse after he’d been with a woman. Yet he kept on feeding those soul destroying emotions every chance he got. It was the only way he was able to feel anything.

He closed his eyes for two seconds, pushing back the pain, fighting the memories as he always did before he grabbed the yellow folder. As he took a seat on the couch, he winced and instinctively reached for his side, clutching it as he waited for the sharp pain to fade.Yup, thirty-three and a half shades of fucked up.

Leaning back into the couch, he pulled out a picture and held it up in front of him. He had been doing this private investigating gig for years now. He liked it, and the money was excellent. Amazing what some people would pay to find, well, people.

Whether it was ex-wives, ex-boyfriends, cheating husbands, sisters, or mistresses, there was always someone willing to pay his or her last dime in order to find people who most of the time didn’t want to be found in the first place.

The picture was taken at an awkward angle, only getting the side of the girl’s face while she looked down, tucking her hair behind her ear. Apparently, it had been taken years ago when she was only sixteen—the last photo anyone had of her.

While staring at the young girl in the picture, he wondered what kind of trouble this one would be. Even though she didn’t look like much trouble, he had been searching for her for weeks, and it was obvious she knew exactly how to disappear off the radar—successfully. It never took him this long to find someone. He prided himself on a turnaround time of two weeks, max. But this one? This one was taking much longer than expected, and that pissed him off. Luckily, after following his last lead, he found her two weeks ago hiding away as a bartender in a strip club. He had been scouting her ever since, following her, making sure he had the right girl since she looked a hell of a lot different than she did in the picture he was holding.

He had to be absolutely sure it was her before he contacted his client with the info. This client was already no happy camper since it had taken Hunter this long to find her in the first place. He couldn’t risk giving him the wrong girl and pissing the guy off even more. There was a large amount of Benjamins dangling in front of Hunter’s face like a fucking carrot to a donkey. There was no margin for error with this case.

But Hunter couldn’t stop wondering why she was making it nearly impossible for anyone to find her. Why was she running? Why was she hiding? And why was this guy willing to pay a small fortune to find her?

His gut told him there was more to this girl in the photo than he was told, and hopefully he would get answers soon.

Hunter placed the picture back in the folder and closed it. “You’d better be there.”

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