Hunter
She hasn’t been in class today, and it isn’t like her to miss lectures.
I gave her twenty minutes.
Maybe she was running late.
But when there was still no sign of her, I got up and left.
I gave the pests their instructions and let them get on with it.
I haven’t approached Piper. I’ve ignored her for days.
But I’ve also been busy.
Trying to find the fucker who calls himself her husband.
The private investigator I hired has had to drop his other cases and devote every waking hour to this one.
I might have informed the man that if he doesn’t come back with answers soon, he’ll find himself banned from the United Kingdom.
His homeland.
And then I might have mentioned that I’d happily destroy his career, his life, and everyone attached to him.
His wife, children. The lot of them.
Harsh?
Perhaps.
Do I care?
Not remotely.
I need answers. And I need them now.
I burst through the doors of the girls’ dormitory and take the stairs two at a time.
My heart sits somewhere in my throat.
Figuratively.
Because I don’t have one.
A heart, I mean.
I thought perhaps Piper had managed to wake it from its long slumber.
But if she managed to bring it back to life, she also managed to bury it.
Fuck this.
I knew I should’ve stayed away.
Especially with the unhealthy fixation I seem to have on her.
And because I knew there were things she wasn’t telling me.
I just never imagined one of them would be a fucking husband.
But do I really care that she’s married?
Fuck no.
Not really.
What I care about is that she didn’t tell me.
And I can’t stomach the thought of her belonging to someone who isn’t me.
That shit eats at me.
Literally.
I feel as though I’m suffocating.
I can’t fathom her being with another man.
My girl. My Piper.
And that thought angers me. Because I don’t share what’s mine.
And somewhere along the way, I decided Piper was exactly that.
Bloody mine.
Then she turns around and tells me she’s married.
Fucking impossible.
Not while I’m alive.
Which means the husband has to go.
As soon as possible.
The sooner, the better.
It’s already been too long.
I’ve been kept in the dark, and there are very few things I despise more than that because it goes against everything I am.
I should’ve pushed harder for answers. I should’ve insisted she tell me the truth. I should’ve dug deeper when she warned me I’d hate her once I found out.
A miscalculation on my part.
One I won’t repeat.
I hate her for deceiving me, or I thought I did, and in the heat of the moment I thought she was a cheat because what else is a man supposed to think when he discovers the woman he’s been sleeping with is married?
Marriage generally comes with a husband, and a husband generally comes with sex.
That was the part I hated most.
The thought of her being a cheat.
I can’t fucking stand cheaters.
But after I calmed down and actually thought about it, I realised there was something else she said that I’d conveniently ignored.
She said she doesn’t love him.
And that changes things.
Because what twenty two year old marries someone they don’t love?
People marry young all the time, but they usually do it because they’re in love, and Piper was adamant she wasn’t.
Which means there is a chance she never wanted any of this in the first place.
Of course, that assumes she was telling the truth.
And right now, I’m no longer sure what to believe.
With that thought still rattling around my head, I knock on the door.
I wait.
No answer comes.
I knock again, louder this time, and when that gets me nowhere either, I take out the key card and let myself in.
Don’t ask.
I have a key to her dorm room.
Does she know?
Irrelevant.
The moment I step inside, her scent fills my lungs, and I take my first proper breath in days.
Fuck.
I’ve become addicted.
It would almost be funny if it weren’t so bloody pathetic.
Then I remember she’s married, and my jaw clenches.
A thousand emotions crash through me.
Most of them are anger.
And then there’s the one emotion I refuse to examine too closely.
Hurt.
Fucking hurt.
Me.
Hunter Wardgrave.
No one bloody hurts me.
Yet somehow a five foot woman with a mane of red hair and hazel eyes has managed it.
I check her bedroom, and when I find it empty, it’s obvious she isn’t here.
The realisation immediately rubs me the wrong way.
I don’t like not knowing where she is.
I should know where she goes, who she’s with, what she’s doing.
I should know everything there is to know about her.
And yet here I am, completely in the dark.
I leave her room, and just as I start down the stairs, voices drift from the lobby below.
I recognise her voice instantly.
But then I hear his. And that changes everything.
The fucker is here again.
I’ve considered every possible candidate for the role of husband, and Julian remains my leading contender.
“You should’ve learned your lesson by now, Piper. But you keep repeating the same mistakes.”
“Leave, Julian,” Piper says.
The moment I reach the last step, I catch sight of the man’s back as he heads for the exit and disappears onto the path outside.
I quicken my pace and follow.
But a small hand wraps around my arm and stops me in my tracks. My eyes drop to her delicate fingers clutching my sleeve, her blue nails glinting.
Slowly, I lift my head and meet her eyes.
And that dead, unbeating thing inside my chest suddenly goes into overdrive.
“What?” I bark.
She flinches, and I feel something that almost resembles regret, but I push it aside.
Seeing her only brings that irrational anger rushing back.
“Are you protecting your lover?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t let her.
“Did you let him touch what’s mine? Were you with him all day? All night? Is he your fucking husband?”
“Hunter,” she whispers weakly.
But I wrench my arm from her grasp as though her touch burns.
Because it bloody does.
“He’s fucking dead,” I say and take a step towards the door.
I barely make it two paces before a thud sounds behind me.
The noise has me turning instantly, only to find Piper collapsed on the floor.
“Fuck.”
I cross the distance in seconds and drop beside her, lifting her head into my lap as I push her hair away from her face.
A bruise mars her temple.
It’s been concealed with makeup and hidden beneath her hair, but now that I’ve noticed it, I can’t unsee it.
All I see is red.
Piper needs me right now, so I force it down, but the bastard who put that mark on her is as good as dead.
I press two fingers to her neck, searching for her pulse, and when I feel it beneath my fingertips, strong and steady, some of the tension leaves me.
She has only fainted.
But the word only has no place where Piper is concerned.
Why would she faint?
She does look pale, and she’s definitely lost weight over the last few weeks, but that doesn’t explain this.
Carefully, I scoop her into my arms and carry her upstairs. I let myself into her dorm room and lay her on the bed.
I drag the chair beside her desk over and sit next to her, taking her hand in mine.
I need to break someone’s face.
Julian’s preferably.
Someone hurt her.
Again.
The worst part is that I let it happen again when I promised her I wouldn’t.
No matter what happened between us, I should never have allowed her to get hurt.
I failed her.
She should never have been anywhere near the person putting bruises on her body, yet somehow she ended up in the same room as him, and I wasn’t there when she needed me.
I need answers, and I need them now because I’m more convinced than ever that cunt is her husband.
He was here.
And now she’s unconscious with a bruise hidden beneath makeup.
The picture practically paints itself.
She shifts slightly, and my eyes immediately snap to her.
On her split lip. A split lip I somehow failed to notice in my rush to get her upstairs.
She stirs again.
“Come on, open those eyes for me, beautiful,” I murmur. “Let me see them.”
“Hunter,” she says as she blinks at me, confused.
She takes in her surroundings, then looks back at me.
“What happened?”
“You fainted.”
The answer feels inadequate, but I have enough self-control not to bombard her with the hundred questions currently tearing through my head.
“I...” She pushes herself up, but I place a hand on her shoulder and stop her.
“You need to rest. You don’t look well. What happened? Are you hurt?”
She looks at me intently.
“I... no.”
Lies.
Fucking lies.
I keep my expression neutral and give a small nod as though I believe her.
“Get some sleep.”
Her brow furrows.
“What are you going to do?”
“Watch over you.”
She closes her eyes, and before long I can tell she’s asleep from the slow rise and fall of her chest.
She looks weak.
There has to be more damage than what’s visible on the surface.
My jaw clenches at the thought, but I don’t move from the chair beside her bed.
Instead, I watch.
I count each breath she takes.
I check her pulse often, to reassure myself it’s still there.
At one point, I start counting the freckles dotting her face.
But while my eyes remain on Piper, my mind is elsewhere.
“I’ll find out who did this to you,” I murmur quietly. “And when I do, I’ll erase them from the face of the earth.”