Exposing the Heiress (15 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“Have you seen RevealPop?” Sienna asked.

Hunt tightened his grip on his cell phone. What now? Hadn’t Lyssie had enough shocks? “No.”

“There’s a picture of you and Alyssa coming out of a gynecologist’s office.”

He relaxed a little bit. “The media is following us everywhere.” Yeah it sucked, but as Lyssie said, this was her life.

“Well, if you two are trying to keep her pregnancy a secret, the cat is out of the bag.”

Adrenaline burst into his blood stream, jerking him upright. “What?”

“Some asshole took a cell phone picture of her medical records and posted it on RevealPop.”

Everything in him went cold. The dining room came into ultra-sharp focus. Even the scents of beef, balsamic and yeasty bread refined. In what felt like slow motion, he turned to Lyssie.

She had her hair in one of those fancy ponytails that lay over her shoulder, her oval face drained of color, making her brown eyes huge and troubled.

She’s pregnant?

“I need to go.” He disconnected from Sienna.

“Hunt? What is it?”

Ignoring Lyssie’s strained question, he called up RevealPop on his phone.

Alyssa Brooks pregnant!
Is her bodyguard the daddy?

There was a photo of them from a long-range lens. His face was hard, clearly scanning the area around them. Lyssie wore the same pretty little dress she had on now but the shot was close enough to see the slight slackness in her jaw that showed she wasn’t paying attention. Totally distracted.

Pregnant.

The word drummed over and over.
Preg. Nant. Preg. Nant.
Scrolling down, he saw the medical notes for Alyssa Brooks.
Pregnant.

She’d lied to him. A million thoughts raced through his head, fighting for prominence. He’d trusted Lyssie, cared about her. Helped her. Opened up to her and she’d lied to him. How could he trust her when she withheld something like this? Hell, he’d sat there in her gynecologist’s office waiting for her. Uncomfortable as hell, but he’d done it.

“Hunt?”

Fury took precedence. Her distress pulled at him but he shut it down. “When were you going to tell me? What was the plan here, Alyssa?”

She flinched at the way he snapped her name.

Oh, hell no. She didn’t get to be scared of him now. “Or was this your plan all along, find someone to knock you up to get that baby you wanted so desperately?”

Confusion and panic swirled in her eyes. “No! But how do you know? I mean…”

He held up his phone, angling his screen so she could see the RevealPop site.

She closed her eyes, her entire body deflating. “It never ends. Now someone stole my medical records.”

Damn it, he refused to feel sorry for her. “So it’s true. You’re pregnant?”

She snapped her head up, clamping her clammy hand on his arm. “I planned to tell you tonight.”

Had she? Because how would he know that now? “So I took you to the doctor today to find out if you were pregnant, not for a birth control shot?” He really wanted to get this straight. “Or did you go in there to get the shot and found out?”

She cut her gaze left.

Shit. Hunt slid his arm from her hand and shoved to his feet. “Don’t you dare lie to me. Not now.” He couldn’t look at her. He went to the sliding glass door that opened to the deck overlooking the ocean. The briny damp air breezing in did nothing to clear his head.

“I found out at the hospital on Friday night. They asked me when my last period was, a standard question when women are going to have an x-ray. When they realized I was late, they did a pregnancy test.”

He whirled around, unable to believe this. “You found out then and didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to verify it first.” Her voice flattened, and resignation settled over her in a thick cloud. “Okay fine, I was scared.”

“You lied, told me you were going in for your birth control shot, and I had to find out on RevealPop.”

Rising, her eyes flashed and blotches of crimson stained her cheeks. “Like I can control that? Someone stole my medical files. I can’t even tell my lover I’m pregnant before some damned tabloid journalist has to get the scoop. Obviously one of the employees in the gynecologist’s office tipped them off. I’ll go after them, get them fired and prosecute, but the damage is done.” Her chest heaved. “Welcome to my life, Hunt, this is it.”

Her words from Saturday came flooding back to him.
What I worry is that you can’t handle this. My real life.

He went to the table and scooped up his phone. “Maybe you were right that I can’t handle this.”

…

“You’re leaving?” Alyssa couldn’t believe how wrong everything had gone.

Hunt stood two feet from her, closed off and coldly angry. “No. I’m going out to clear my head. I don’t run, Alyssa. If you’re carrying my kid—”

“If?” She sucked in a breath. “I’ve had two pregnancy tests and an exam. I’m pregnant.” Another horrible thought hit her. “Unless you don’t think you’re the father.”

His eyes narrowed. “I just found out and you won’t give me a goddamned minute to get my head around it. Fine, you’re pregnant and I’m the father. I’ll go buy a fucking ring.” He turned and crossed the kitchen to the garage door. “Then I’ll keep checking the internet to find out the sex of my baby and when it’s born.”

She’d never seen him like this. His fury blasted over her like frostbite, burning her skin. “Stop it. I’m not trying to trap you into marriage or anything.”

With one hand on the door, he stared. “I can understand you needed a day or two to tell me, especially after that picture of you and Eli was released. What I don’t understand is lying to my face about the doctor’s appointment. I sat out there in the waiting room…” He shook his head. “You didn’t trust me. That’s what it comes down to. For all your talk of how you’re not Rachel, you’re not afraid of me, in the moment when you needed to prove it, you took the coward’s way out. Now a million people found out before I did. How am I supposed to feel exactly?”

She’d screwed up. “I’m sorry. Please, Hunt, it was a mistake.”

“A big one. How do you expect me to handle the fame part of your life if you don’t tell me what I need to know? I trusted you with so much…” He sucked in a breath. “I’ll be back. Once I calm down, we’ll talk. Don’t leave the house.” He opened the door and left.

Alyssa crumpled into the chair. That look on his face, so cold and remote. Hard.

Unforgiving.

Hot tears splashed down her face. She’d really hurt him. She stared at the door in her kitchen, willing him to come back.

To not leave.

He didn’t return. Instead she heard the sound of the garage door rolling shut and his Jeep taking off.

Was he coming back? Would he forgive her?

…

Hunt sat on the blue and white bench on the Malibu pier. A few night fishermen cast their lines, using the lights fixed on the railings to see what they were doing. At the end of the pier, the café was lit up. A few couples strolled along the planks. The waves sounded around the pilings below while his mind churned.

Walking out on Lyssie tonight had been a dick move. He’d known it before he cleared the driveway. A baby. She was pregnant. Why hadn’t she been able to tell him? That dug into his chest. Instead, he’d been blindsided by Sienna calling and the RevealPop post of her medical records. Before Lyssie blew back into his life, he’d been fine. Coping. Existing. Nothing really mattered.

Now he had too much to lose. Lyssie meant too much to him, but if she couldn’t tell him she was pregnant, then how could they have anything real?

He rubbed a hand over his face. He wanted to be there for her when she was scared, not be the thing she was scared of. He’d been that thing for too long. The Nightmare Ghost Hunter—terrorists and their families, even kids, were taught to be afraid of him. On that final mission when he’d gone after Rand Oliver, Rand had been scared of him. A man who’d once been a friend had seen Hunt and known he was there to kill him, that Hunt would do it if he didn’t surrender. Apparently the only thing Rand had been more afraid of than Hunt killing him had been living.

Hunt had told Lyssie tonight he worked for Once A Marine to see the immediate results. True, but he left out the part where he needed to see people happy and relieved he was there to help them. A friend, not the boogeyman. To see that fear in Lyssie’s face tonight? She’d been scared of his reaction.

But you walked out. Left her. And what is Lyssie really scared of? Screwing up and not being forgiven.

Dick. Move.

Pulling out his phone, he had to call her, tell her he was on his way home. He had missed calls and tons of texts. No surprise there, the entire world had found out he was going to be a father before he had, but that was something he could work out with Lyssie, not by sitting there brooding. Hunt made the call.

No answer.

The back of his neck tingled, and his instincts pinged off tiny electric sparks of warning. Instantly, he jumped up and jogged to his Jeep.

…

Alyssa wished she could put on her headphones and just run, but her knee wasn’t quite up to it yet, and it wasn’t the best idea to be out alone right now. Instead, she watched one of her mom’s old movies,
Cry for Melissa.
That movie had changed her mom’s life.

Sitting on the couch, legs drawn up and chin on her knees, she tried to lose herself in the story. Right now, she just wanted her mom any way she could get her, even if it was in a nearly three-decade-old movie.

Next to her on the cushion, her phone vibrated with constant calls, texts and email alerts. She didn’t want to talk to anyone but Hunt, but he hadn’t called or texted. Total silence. He’d been gone over an hour.

He’ll come back. He said he would and he doesn’t lie.

Her stomach pitched and burned with regret. Could she and Hunt get past this? They could, right? She heard the distinct sound of the garage door opening. Hunt was back.

Her heart shot into her throat. A mixture of relief, fear and dread popped and boiled, but she was done being a coward. If she had any hope of fixing this, she had to own up to her mistake. Dropping her bare feet to the floor, she clicked off the TV and got up. The house alarm beeped as Hunt came in.

Time to do this. Taking deep breaths, she passed between the end of the couch and the wet bar, and hooked a left to the stairs. Did she have mascara stains on her face from crying? She swiped her fingers under her eyes, and came away with smudges of black on her fingers. Yep, she was a mess.

Stop it. No procrastinating.
Grabbing the handrails, she started up.

“Alyssa!”

Oh. Even echoing down the hallway and stairs she recognized Maxine’s voice, not Hunt’s. That’s what she got for not answering her assistant’s frantic calls and texts. Maxine knew the guards at the gate, and had a key, garage door opener and alarm codes to her house. “Coming,” she called out, halfway up the stairs.

“Do—”

A loud blast reverberated, then a thump.

Alyssa’s heart exploded in wild panic. What was that? Should she go up? Or down? She couldn’t process—

“Alyssa.”

Nate stood at the top of the stairs. Tall, slim and illuminated by the hallway lights, he appeared menacing. At least the gun in his left hand did.

How could he be here, he was supposed to be locked up, and Maxine, he must have shot her. Alyssa twisted around and raced down the stairs.
Get to the phone on the couch. Call for help.

She hit the floor, spun right and ran hard, diving for the phone.

A heavy weight plowed into her, slamming her over the back of the sofa. It dug into her ribs. Hot pain ripped around her rib cage. She struggled to breathe.

Get the phone.
She scrabbled her hand out, reaching toward her sleek cell. The weight on her lifted just as her fingers skimmed the phone. Nate grabbed her ponytail and jerked her back. The phone slid from her grasp as he spun her around to face him. Agony screamed on her left side. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground. “Stop. God, stop.” Broken rib? Wrapping her arms around herself, she panted.

Nate crouched, the ugly gun in his hand between them.

On her knees, Alyssa forced her eyes up. He had on black slacks and a bloodstained white shirt. Maxine’s blood? She almost gagged. Was her friend alive?
Please let her be alive.

Alyssa had to get away and help Maxine. Focusing on Nate’s face, she saw a dark bruise spread over one side, and his lip was cracked and scabbed. That had been from being slammed to the ground after his arrest, she guessed. But his eyes…

Shark eyes.
Dark and cold death. Chills raced down her back. A malevolent predator gleamed in their brown depths. “You’re supposed to be in jail.” This couldn’t be happening.

“I had an emergency fund. I always have a contingency plan, rich girl. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

Too calm. Like the man in the elevator threatening her son. “Why?” It came out a desperate plea. “Why me?”

“Because your life should have been mine. You were a tool.”

Crazy.
Her ribs hurt too much to run. Maybe if she could grasp what he meant, she could figure out a way to get her and Maxine out of this alive. “I don’t understand how my life should have been yours.”

“Cry for Melissa.”

She tried to follow what he meant. “My mom’s movie?” The one she’d been watching before she heard the garage door open?

Tightening his hold on her hair, he leaned in, fury darkening his olive skin. “My mom had that role first, but she got pregnant with me and was fired. Your mom got it then. It should have been my mom that became a powerful star.”

Insane.
This close, the sharp scent of antiseptic and sweat stung her nostrils. Every breath hurt.
If you want to get out of this, think, damn it.
From what Alyssa understood, Nate’s mom never got another acting job after she had him. “Is that why you killed her?”

“She was weak. She should have fought for that role, had an abortion.”