Finding Forgiveness (Finding Series, Book 4) (2 page)

“I’m not going to fuck you, Hunter,” he finally said.

More tears filled Hunter’s eyes and he shook his head before dropping his gaze once more. “Then can I go?”

“You’re not a prisoner,” Roman muttered but when Hunter instantly stood to leave, Roman grabbed him gently by the wrist.

“At least get cleaned up before you go. I can give you a ride back to your car when you’re ready.”

Roman could feel Hunter’s pulse thrumming beneath his fingers but he wasn’t sure if the young man was afraid of him or something else. The only reason he was even considering the answer being something else was the fact that Hunter wasn’t trying to escape his hold, and his pretty lips had parted when he’d sucked in a sharp breath at the contact.

A quick nod was Hunter’s answer and when he still didn’t move, Roman forced himself to release him. But watching Hunter walk stiffly towards the bathroom brought back the image of him being brutalized and it took all of Roman’s self-discipline to stay where he was instead of going back to the club in the hopes of finding the bikers and finishing what he’d started.

***

Hunter stood quietly as the hot water rained down on his body. Since he was standing directly under the spray, the water hit his head first and then cascaded in clear ribbons down the side of his face and to the bottom of the tub where it pooled and then disappeared down the drain. The sight of blood mixing with the water had Hunter closing his eyes as shame washed through him.

Tonight hadn’t gone anything like he’d planned. The stop at
Red’s
had been an impulse; a last desperate attempt to stave off the gut-wrenching turmoil of having to go back to the one place in the world he’d hoped to never see again. His initial plan had been to find some liquid courage and then maybe, if he was lucky, a burly cowboy who’d help him forget the shitstorm he was about to walk into. He’d gotten the burly part within a minute of entering the club; it just hadn’t come in the package he’d expected. Hunter hadn’t even had a chance to order a drink before the biker had propositioned him, so when Hunter had walked into that room, he hadn’t even had the benefit of alcohol to dull his senses as he took in the eyes of the hungry men watching him. There’d been a moment when the biker had stepped away from his side to join his friends that Hunter could have used to turn and leave – to walk back to the safety of the crowded dance floor. But as he’d watched the men crudely rubbing themselves in anticipation, a dark, twisted thought had formed in his mind and he’d stepped forward instead of backwards before he could reconsider. And then it was like there was an invisible force guiding him forward.

He’d had no illusions about what the men would do to him so when he was shoved face down on the pool table and felt his pants and underwear being yanked down, he’d bit back the automatic instinct to tell them no and he’d focused on a plaque on the wall near the entrance to the room. It was in the shape of a pool table with two pool sticks crisscrossing over the top of it. Below the racked balls were a dozen gold plates, each with different names on them and what he assumed were years in which the player had won whatever award the plaque represented. He’d just started adding up the individual numbers of the first year listed when biker number one had slammed into him.

Nothing could have prepared him for the excruciating pain that had followed and he’d ended up pressing his mouth down against the stiff green felt so his scream wouldn’t be heard throughout the club. He’d had nothing to grip with his hands to act as a counterpoint against the brutal thrusting that had followed but it hadn’t mattered because two of the other bikers had grabbed his arms to hold him down. He wasn’t sure if they’d done it because he was moving too much or if it had been a preventive measure to keep them from losing their newfound toy but he hadn’t really cared either way because the pain had been so intense that he’d been on the verge of passing out. After a while, his body had gone numb and he’d been able to focus on the numbers on the plaque once more and he’d lost track of everything else. At some point his arms had been released but he’d already retreated so far back into his head that he couldn’t say for sure when. Time ceased to exist as did the grunts and moans behind him and the ugly words that were hurled at him. There’d been no pain, no men, no pool table.

And then it was over and he was looking into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen – eyes filled with a strange mix of rage and pity.

Hunter forced himself to straighten and reached for the soap. The bikers had been a mistake – he’d been foolish to think they’d somehow be his salvation; that they’d somehow take away the darkness inside of him or miraculously change the part of himself that he’d been trying to deny for nearly a decade. Instead, they’d been another reminder of yet another bad choice. At least he was the only one who had gotten hurt this time.

Hunter made quick work of scrubbing his body clean and then carefully pressed his hand between his cheeks to wash away the little bit of blood that remained. Although he was still hurting, he was hoping what he’d told the mysterious stranger about not needing medical attention would be true. And he absolutely refused to consider what might have happened if the man with the striking blue eyes hadn’t intervened. It had been clear that the bikers hadn’t cared much about his comfort because they hadn’t even bothered to replenish the lube when he’d clearly needed more so they probably wouldn’t have even blinked at the idea of tearing him up inside. He could only hope that they’d all used condoms because after the first guy had finished with him, he’d been too far gone to notice and while it seemed like the only thing that had seeped out of his body was his own blood, he couldn’t be completely sure.

The temperature of the water began to shift from hot to warm so Hunter knew his reprieve was over and he shut off the water and climbed out of the shower. He dried himself off with one of the scratchy white towels and reached for his clothes. They smelled of sex and smoke and he decided to forgo the underwear when he saw several small bloodstains on them. He put them in the garbage can next to the toilet and then covered them with several wads of toilet paper. He took a few minutes to towel dry his hair and comb his fingers through it and then steeled himself to face the man in the other room.

He could hear the TV going as he opened the door but when he got to the main part of the room, any words he was about to say died in the back of his throat as his eyes took in the sight of the beautiful stranger. He was leaning against the headboard of the queen bed with a laptop open on his lap. But his eyes were closed and his head was pressed back against the cheap-looking wood. Hunter knew he should just go. It would be easy enough to grab the bus back to the club to get his car. But instead of moving towards the door, he moved closer to the bed and studied his rescuer. He guessed him to be in his early thirties and he had to be at least a couple inches over Hunter’s own six-foot frame. He wasn’t heavily built like a body builder but he did have wide shoulders and a broad chest that filled out the crisp white dress shirt he was wearing. His black slacks hinted at muscular thighs and were pulled snuggly over his hips. Hunter’s whole body drew up tight at the sight of the man’s bulge outlined beneath the thin fabric.

Before he could deal with the unwanted bout of lust that burned through him, the guy shifted and his laptop leaned precariously to the right. Hunter managed to catch it before it fell and he carefully put it up on the nightstand next to the bed. He glanced over to see that the man hadn’t woken up and then Hunter did something that he knew was a really bad idea. He carefully lowered himself to sit on what little space there was between the man’s body and the edge of the mattress. They weren’t actually touching but the close proximity gave Hunter the chance to study the man’s face in more detail. He had black hair that was shorter on the sides and a bit longer on top. Hunter knew just by looking at it that it would feel like silk between his fingers. A little bit of stubble graced the man’s jaw but it was his lips that Hunter kept going back to – they were full and firm looking and there was just the tiniest scar cutting into the upper lip. He was reaching out to touch the scar before he even realized he was doing it and when his fingers made contact with it, the man’s eyes slowly opened. But to Hunter’s surprise, he didn’t move at all. Their eyes met and Hunter’s gut clenched at the raw beauty he was seeing. The need to touch, to connect was so overwhelming that his fingers shook with it.

As a tremor of desire went through him, Hunter tried to draw his hand back but the man captured his wrist in a gentle hold and then lowered it to the bed next to his hip. The move forced Hunter forward just the tiniest bit and he knew even as he shifted his weight that he couldn’t stop himself from what he was about to do. The man didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe as Hunter leaned in. Their eyes stayed connected until the very last second when Hunter closed them just as he got his first taste of the mysterious man who was quickly turning his world upside down and inside out.

***

Fuck, the kid’s kiss was like a wet dream. And technically, it was barely even a kiss since all Hunter did was brush their mouths together for the briefest of moments. But when he only drew back a fraction of an inch, Roman’s heart seized because he knew it wasn’t over.

Roman forced himself to remain completely still as Hunter’s lips met his again. He still had a hold of Hunter’s wrist and it took every ounce of control he had left to not use it to draw Hunter even closer. The second kiss was as chaste as the first but this time Hunter didn’t draw back – instead, he hovered against Roman’s lips for just a moment before covering them completely with his. And then one stroke – one fucking stroke of that lush, sweet tongue and Roman snapped. He released Hunter’s wrist so he could wrap his hand around the back of Hunter’s neck while his other hand settled on Hunter’s waist. Hunter gasped at the contact and Roman took advantage and sank his tongue into Hunter’s mouth. Hunter’s sweet taste exploded against Roman’s tongue as he explored Hunter’s hot, wet mouth and he swallowed down Hunter’s moan as their tongues finally met. Warning bells went off in the back of Roman’s head as Hunter’s inexperience at kissing quickly became clear but instead of releasing Hunter like he should have, Roman softened his kiss and gently began exploring Hunter’s mouth.

Hunter’s whole body was stiff but the more Roman kissed him, the more pliant Hunter’s muscles became and the younger man began pressing closer and closer. Roman managed to find a shred of sanity still left in his brain and tried to draw back from Hunter’s intoxicating mouth but whatever beast he’d awakened in Hunter wouldn’t be denied and Hunter’s mouth followed his until Roman’s head hit the headboard. And suddenly the tables were turned and it was Hunter’s tongue searching out every part of his mouth, stroking over every surface. Fire pooled in Roman’s gut as Hunter’s long fingers brushed over his ear and then clasped the side of his head to hold him still. Insecurity gave way to confidence and Hunter’s scorching caresses had Roman’s dick standing at full attention.

When they were finally forced to separate so they could grab some much needed air, Hunter drew back and lifted his fingers to his mouth. Roman didn’t dare move as he watched a gamut of emotions pass over the other man’s features – shock, wonder, dread. The last look said a lot and Roman managed to grab Hunter by the wrist before he could get up and escape like he so clearly wanted to.

“Come lay down for a bit,” he murmured when Hunter’s gaze finally lifted to meet his. “Just rest – nothing else,” Roman said softly.

Hunter looked down at where Roman was still holding on to him and Roman released him so that the young man knew anything he did from that moment forward would be his choice. Hunter looked torn for a moment and then to Roman’s surprise, he nodded. But instead of getting up and going around to the other side of the bed, Hunter actually crawled over his body and even though they didn’t actually touch, just the sight of Hunter hovering over him even for that split second had Roman stifling a moan. He couldn’t ever remember a time when he’d gotten this wound up this fast. Not once. His control in bed was like his calling card but one kiss from a nineteen-year-old kid had tied him up in a haze of desperate need.

Hunter settled on the other side of the bed and put as much space between their bodies as possible. Roman reached for the remote on the nightstand to turn off the TV and then closed his laptop before turning off the light. He didn’t bother shifting down to lay flat on the bed because he knew there was no way he was going to fall asleep anytime soon. But at some point he must have because when he woke up the next morning, he was lying on his side in the middle of the bed and there was just an empty space next to him. He ran his fingers over the sheet but it was cold to the touch and he was oddly disappointed that not one shred of evidence of Hunter’s presence still remained.

Chapter Two

Roman drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his rental car as he looked to his right. The road didn’t look much different than the one straight ahead but the one to the right would end up taking him back to his past, to a time in his life he’d spent years trying to forget. It was a road he’d taken three months earlier when his fear had overshadowed his need to protect himself but a part of him had regretted it because all he’d done was open old wounds that had yet to close. Straight ahead was the safer option – the option that represented who he was now…a cool, collected businessman whose only focus was on the deal at hand. Turning right would be tantamount to granting the half-brother he’d idolized forgiveness.

He'd been in this exact same spot three months earlier after learning from his brother’s realtor that Gray had bought the mountain cabin a few years earlier. It was information he’d garnered in his own unique way out of the talkative woman after Gray had seemingly disappeared from the public eye. As a bestselling author, Gray Hawthorne had become a fixture in celebrity gossip rags and websites after he’d sold the rights to three of his well-known detective series books so they could be made into a movie trilogy. The move had netted Gray fame and fortune and everything that came with it, including being stalked by the paparazzi who’d ended up snapping a picture of Gray in an intimate embrace with a well-known and supposedly straight actor who was up for the lead role in the films. The picture and rumors behind it had caused endless speculation about Gray and the engaged actor. And while that part wasn’t necessarily reason for concern, the fact that Gray hadn’t been seen or heard from in the weeks following the scandal had had Roman growing concerned.

Even though he and Gray hadn’t spoken in more than three years, Gray’s celebrity status had allowed Roman glimpses into his brother’s life and when that had all gone dark, Roman had felt a twinge of fear that was entirely unwanted and unexpected. He’d tried ignoring the situation but he’d soon found himself imagining the worst when day after day went by and no one, not even those closest to Gray, had heard from him. So Roman had done some digging and found out that Marina, Gray’s realtor, had helped him find him the cabin and, on a whim, Roman had decided to make a stopover in Montana on his way out of the country to see if his wayward relative was there. So when he’d gotten to the intersection that he was currently sitting at, he hadn’t hesitated to make the turn and spend the fifteen-minute drive up the mountain to the remote cabin. But nothing had prepared Roman for what he found…nothing.

The day was burned in his brain and likely would be forever. He’d found the cabin without any trouble and had even seen his brother and another man standing outside in the driveway when he’d pulled in. Roman had been so busy mentally preparing himself for what he would say that he hadn’t actually taken in Gray’s appearance until he was within a few feet of him and when it had finally registered what he was seeing, he’d nearly fallen over.

Cancer.

The one word had played on a seemingly endless loop in his mind as he’d reached out to shake Gray’s hand and then the hand of the man he was with. Even though Gray had been wearing a small, knit cap, Roman could still tell that all his hair was gone. If that had been the only change, Roman might have passed it off as a strange style choice but Gray’s eyebrows were gone too and he’d lost so much weight that he actually looked smaller than Roman even though they’d been the same size since Roman had been in his twenties. His skin was frighteningly pale and his eyes had looked sunken in their sockets.

Roman had managed to keep his shock in check even once he and Gray were settled in the cabin but when Gray had asked why he was there, Roman had actually felt the lie catch in his throat before he’d spoken. He’d finally managed to tell him that Gray’s mother had asked him to check on Gray and he’d been relieved when his brother had accepted the story. He’d kept the visit short but there’d been that final moment when Gray had indirectly invited him to stop by for another visit that Roman had felt his throat close up with emotion and he’d wanted to reach out and touch Gray just to see if the moment was real. How many times as a little boy had he wished for that moment – the one where Gray wanted him around? Where Gray might actually like him? The simple answer was never and that had been what had kept Roman away these past few months with the exception of his one visit to the hospital to check on Gray after he’d been assaulted by a man hunting his lover, Luke.

But his silence hadn’t kept Gray from reaching out and every time he did, Roman felt himself wanting to answer the phone when he saw Gray’s name flash across the screen or answer his texts with something other than declining his invitation to visit or talk. But he hadn’t done either. He’d deleted the voicemails without listening to them and he’d only read the short texts asking him if he had time for a visit or a chat. He didn’t watch or read any of the interviews Gray had done to talk about being a cancer survivor, either.

So then why the hell was he having so much trouble deciding which direction to point his rental car in? He could be the bigger man and accept the olive branch Gray was offering. After all, he wasn’t the same little boy desperate for someone to tell him things were going to be okay. He didn’t need someone to hold his hand while he watched his mother’s casket being lowered into the ground or soothe away his fears when he’d walked through the front door of the massive house that would be his new home. So what if Gray was feeling regretful now? Cancer didn’t give him a free pass for the disdain he’d shown Roman time and time again. Nor did the fact that Gray had only been seventeen when he’d been introduced to the half-brother he hadn’t known existed.

Roman could feel his agitation getting the better of him so he sucked in several deep breaths and focused on the task at hand. He was here for a business opportunity, pure and simple. Whether he pursued it or not had nothing to do with Gray…it was about making money. And even more importantly, it was about making a name for himself which he’d already done a dozen times over. The Hawthorne family had liked pretending he didn’t exist but since he’d managed to secure his own position in their social hemisphere, they wouldn’t likely be able to forget him any time soon.

He’d already made more money than all of them combined and he would never tire of the look of pure hatred that would pass over his stepmother’s features when one of her snooty friends would introduce him as their charitable organization’s newest benefactor. But the best part would be that moment when Victoria Hawthorne stood with bated breath as she waited to see if this would be the one time he would reveal their connection to one another; that he was, in fact, more of a Hawthorne than she would ever be. And then there’d be those few seconds when he played dumb and merely shook her icy hand and murmured a polite greeting that Victoria’s apprehension would show because she knew she was at his mercy this time around.

Until the day he’d take it all the way and reveal all of the Hawthorne family secrets.

So fixing what had been broken between himself and Gray so long ago served no purpose. He’d needed a brother when he was ten. At thirty-two he didn’t need anyone. Not one goddamn soul.

With that thought in mind, Roman wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel and pushed down on the gas. He’d come to Dare for one reason and one reason only and it had nothing to do with re-visiting a part of his past that just didn’t matter anymore.

***

Roman wasn’t particularly surprised to find that the small town of Dare made Missoula look like a gleaming metropolis. It was what he’d expected considering the town’s small population and remote location. It was also what would make the resort he was considering building all the more successful. After all, the men and women who made up his clientele would be making the trek to the backwoods of Montana so they could “rough” it and a town like Dare would add authenticity. Of course, “roughing it” to people who had every conceivable luxury money could buy meant only having six bathrooms in their seven bedroom homes. And although Dare was a cute enough little spot with its town center surrounding a small, lush park complete with a flock of ducks, it would positively explode with economic success if he ended up moving forward with the deal. It was a fact that the realtor, who also happened be the mayor of Dare, handling the land buy hadn’t missed because he’d been positively drooling ever since Roman’s assistant had called him to arrange an examination of the nearly ten-thousand-acre spot that was part of the overall stretch of land he was considering just south of the town.

Stepping away from his car, Roman glanced at his watch and then headed towards the small realty office at the end of the block. There were a few people out and about and every single one sent him a polite greeting of some sort. By the time he reached the single glass door that read
Greene Realty
on it, he was actually missing the rude L.A. commuters who clogged the busy sidewalks.

The first thing he saw when he opened the door was a petite, blonde haired woman at one of three old desks against the side wall. The small space was unbearably hot so the poor woman had a huge fan blowing on her. The rattling fan blades prevented her from hearing his entry so when he reached her desk and cleared his throat to get her attention, she jerked in her chair and let out a startled gasp.

“My apologies,” he murmured as she clutched her chest. Her recovery was slow and she actually ended up knocking her ceramic mug to the ground. It shattered and she let out another cry of distress when coffee splashed over his shoes.

“Oh dear Lord, I’m so sorry,” she said hurriedly as she began yanking tissues from the dispenser on her desk. She was on the ground before he could even say anything and to his shock, she actually ended up kneeling in the spilled coffee and began dabbing at his shoes before doing anything else.

“Ma’am,” he said quickly as he reached for her elbow to help her up.

“Grace, do you have those MLS numbers I asked for!” a heavy voice shouted from a back room somewhere.

The woman at his feet stiffened in his hold and her wide eyes flew from his face to her desk.

“Grace!”

“It’s fine,” Roman said softly as he pulled the woman to her feet and took the handful of tissues from her.

“I’ll be right back, Mr…”

“Blackwell. Roman Blackwell.”

The woman’s eyes widened even farther and her mouth opened enough for another small gasp to escape her lips. She began wringing her hands as she shook her head and then looked at the mess on the floor. Her distress was clear as day but before he could even say anything, he heard her name bellowed yet again.

“It’s okay, go,” he said.

The woman he could only assume was Grace snatched a piece of paper from the printer on her desk and then rushed towards the doorway against the far wall. He couldn’t hear her voice as he bent down to clean up the remnants of the mug but he did hear a loud curse and then the man seemed to have enough sense to lower his voice because everything was muffled after that. Several long seconds passed and as Roman was in the process of wiping up the last of the coffee, he heard the man say, “Grace, what is this?”

Roman glanced up to see a man in his late fifties leaning heavily on a pair of crutches. Grace was standing just behind him, her face ashen. He saw the man send her a sharp look and then she was rushing across the room and taking over the task of cleaning up the coffee.

“Mr. Blackwell, it is such a pleasure,” the man said as he made his way across the room. His tone was bright and cheerful as he added, “I do apologize for my wife. Ironically, grace was never one of her stronger qualities.”

Anger went through Roman at the degrading comment but he bit his tongue. He was here for a deal, that was it. Last night had been a reminder of what happened when he was foolish enough to get caught up in someone else’s problems. Your whole world got fucked up by one kiss…

“Mr. Greene,” Roman said as he forced himself to step past the woman on the floor. He crossed the room to shake the man’s extended hand and couldn’t help but want to wipe his palm on his pants afterwards.

“Malcom Greene,” the man responded brightly, his too white teeth making his thin lips look small. “Welcome to Dare.”

Roman didn’t respond and was pleased to see Malcom stiffen. Good, he already had the man on edge. Ten seconds to get control…a new personal best.

“Well, as you can see, I’ve had a bit of an accident,” Malcom stuttered as he motioned to his ankle which was wrapped in an Ace bandage. He fell silent, clearly waiting for Roman to inquire about his injury but when Roman said nothing, he shifted his weight on the crutches. He guessed Malcom to be around 6 feet tall with a heavier than average build but he looked fit for his age. His brown hair didn’t have even a hint of silver in it so he likely colored it and his clothes were on the higher end in terms of quality. Interestingly enough, his wife’s clothes looked a decade out of date and she wore no makeup. Her hair was pulled back into a simple braid.

“I sprained it,” Malcom laughed awkwardly. “Stepped off the curb wrong if you can believe it.”

Roman ignored the man’s attempts to draw him into chit chat and instead said, “You assured me I’d be able to examine the property today.”

Malcom froze for a moment and then his face flushed as he nodded frantically.

“Yes, yes, you will. My son-” Malcom’s attention shifted to his wife. “Where is he?” he snapped.