Bad Boy Soldier (Bad Boy 3)

The monst

er.

Chapter 7

CELIA

I soaked in the bath, enjoying the same scented bath salts I had used for Hunter's bath that night. He must have had them brought over from his apartment. I wondered whether he had done it to bother me or if he had really enjoyed the scent—and the bath itself.

I didn't know what to think about Hunter.

He seemed like he cared—some of the time—by showing concern for my welfare, protecting me, providing security for me. At the same time, the fact he was spying on me gave me a bad feeling, like he was tipping over into stalker territory. Yes, he was an expert in security, and I knew he provided security for the Romanov family, but still, it was creepy having him—or George—watching me 24/7, even if it somewhat comforted me to know they could respond immediately if anything threatened me.

I guess I was just confused about how to feel.

Most of all, I was confused about this relationship with Hunter. He'd sworn off trying to force me to pleasure him. I was glad, but once again, I was also somewhat disappointed. I still had a great deal of desire for Hunter. That wouldn't change, even if he did horrible things. He would still cause my body to respond with only a touch or a glance. But he wasn't the honorable man I’d known him to be.

I finished my bath and got out of the tub. After brushing my hair out, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Red marks were clearly visible on my neck where Spencer had choked me. On my cheek where he slapped me. Would he have killed me if my mother hadn't stumbled down the stairs to find us? Or would I have been able to successfully fight him off? I’d managed to kick him a few good times while he was choking me, but it hadn’t seemed to faze him at all. He really was like a madman with his hands around my neck.

I had to do something about it, and get my mother out of there. I had to call my Aunt Diane and ask her to help. Graham was unable to do anything. I didn’t want to talk to Hunter about it for fear he might go ballistic.

I wrapped a towel around myself and went to the bedroom area to get ready for bed before Hunter returned—if he returned. I suspected he wouldn't, given his promise to stop demanding sex from me.

Of course, while I was searching through my clothes, he marched into the apartment and went right over to where George was sitting in the corner office.

Great. George was certain to tell Hunter about my injuries, such as they were.

I grabbed my nightgown and robe and tried to rush back to the bathroom, but Hunter came over and stopped me before I could close the bathroom door.

"Let me see," he said, taking hold of my arm and preventing me from slipping inside the bathroom. "What did that sonofabitch do to you?"

I stopped and stood there, my clothes draped over my arm, a towel around my body, and let him examine me. There was no use fighting. Hunter was taller and stronger than me.

"We got into an argument," I said. "I may have told him he was a fucking bastard."

Hunter touched my neck, shaking his head slowly while he examined the marks Spencer left there.

"That fucking bastard," he said, his voice low, menacing. "I'll kill him."

"Don't do anything stupid, Hunter," I said, fearful that he'd rush out and beat Spencer up. As much as that might personally make me happy, I didn't want Hunter to get into trouble over what happened. "Remember who he is. He's the DA. No one is going to believe it. He told me he'd already talked trash about me to the police. They think I'm a thief who's stealing money from my mother."

"He told you that?"

I nodded, tears springing to my eyes now that I had time to process that fact. "Yes. Who do you think they'll believe—Spencer or me?"

Then I covered my eyes with a hand and cried. I didn't care anymore that Hunter could see me crying like a baby. It hurt that Spencer hated me so much that he would lie about me like that.

Why did Spencer's opinion of me still matter so much? He'd always been such a bastard to me… In the beginning, when he first started seeing my mother, he was so nice to us—to Graham and me. I had no idea what I did to change that, but once he moved in, after mom got back from the hospital, he changed.

He started policing us like he was our own father. Our own father had just died and I was not willing to let Spencer order me around.

Graham tried to get along with Spencer, but I would not let him tell me what to do. I spent a lot of time in time-out or grounded because I refused when he ordered me around.

It had been years and years of anger and rebellion on my part.

Hunter took me in his arms, holding me against his body while I cried. His tenderness made me cry even harder, for it was the first real affection anyone had shown me for a long time. In fact, it was the first time in months anyone other than Amy had hugged me.

"It's okay, it's okay," he murmured, his face in my hair. He squeezed me more tightly and I let loose, crying harder than before. Finally, I began to regain control over myself, wiping my eyes and face with a hand.