Page 81 of Betrayal

“I’m working on it.”Hunter flashed his teeth.“I appreciate the offer of help and the information.”He appreciated the generosity behind Niall’s presence and knew Anna was part of it.“How’s Anna?”

“You’ll have to ask her.But I’ll give you something for nothing.Anna doesn’t give up on her friends just because they’re being an arse.”His guest’s Irish lilt was stronger when he was moved by strong emotion.“You know where to find me.”

Hunter’s mind was spinning when he climbed the stairs to his living room after seeing Niall out.Anna was worried about him and had sent help.That made them even.He was worried about her too.And missing her.

He picked up his bottle, then set it down.Opening his safe, he extracted an envelope and upended it.The glossy photos weren’t the issue, the fake digital images Nick wouldn’t hesitate to create and use were.A minute’s work for his father to broadcast the shots of a naked Anna to the world.By the time Hunter or the cops could prove the shots were illegally obtained, Nick could have superimposed a current picture of Anna onto the body, and the scar would give her away.

And Nick’s merry-go-round would start again.

Why?Why the fuck now?Problems paying contractors?Is money the trigger?

Nick had reappeared in Hunter’s life at his mother’s funeral.At the will reading, Nick had been apoplectic with rage, his comments libellous.Hunter had sold him his mother’s house at less than market price, but Nick had demanded it as a gift.Nick’s harassment started after that.Maybe this was all about money, and the sleazy attacks on Anna were a sideshow?

The scar would identify her.

Anna had the right of it.Nick was a disgusting old lecher and a champion hater.Hunter couldn’t ask Anna to wait out the old man.Not when Nick’s weapons were so obscene.

Hell, he noticed her absence with every breath he breathed.

As a kid, he’d plotted to disappear.That would have been a declaration of surrender.Would Anna run with him now?Unfair to ask.Better for her to think he was an arsehole.

Hunter’s life was empty without her and her occasionally outrageous clothes, her repertoire of smiles, her rapier sharp insights.Teasing him, loving him, trusting him with her secrets and her dreams.He loved her.With Anna, he’d understood contentment.

On the point of returning the photos to the envelope, his gaze returned to Anna’s upraised arm.The moment she should have been yelling “Surprise,” her body at full stretch, her arms flung upward, her mouth open on the word.Setting the photo down, he positioned his phone above it and used the magnifying feature to zero in.It was possible Anna hadn’t been wearing the bracelet that night, even though she owned it now.Nick’s note claimed he’d recognised the bracelet, not the scar.

Had Nick identified the wrong woman?

Hunter’s attention had been on Anna.Only Anna, when he’d first received them.He’d noted the wig she’d told him she’d worn to burst naked out of a birthday cake.To his mind, her heavy makeup accentuated her innocence.She was more beautiful now, more comfortable in her skin, sure of who she was as a woman.Demanding he hear the truth so he knew who shared his kisses, shared his bed.He loved her brutal honesty.

But he’d doubted her.He had to own that.

Hunter had lived and breathed betrayal as a child.Nick belittled him as a kid, treated him as if he was stupid, pretended he cared while trying to get Hunter’s playmates to swap their allegiance to Nick.Hunter had always been on guard.

Since the funeral, Nick had tracked the people Hunter loved, rather than face Hunter himself.If the end game was taking over Hunter’s company, there were only two possible motives—humiliating Hunter and money.Time to follow the money.

Hunter glanced again at the photo.Who was the missing woman?Had Nick cut her out of the photo?Unlikely.Had the photographer focused on Anna, not her friend?Possible.Nick remembered the bracelet.Had he remembered the right woman?

What had Anna said?

“I was getting wilder, angrier.”

“A bloke I knew said we’d get good money for an hour’s work.”

“Out of the cake, circulate a bit, smile.”

“He promised no touching.No serious touching.Maybe a tit squeeze, a crotch against my butt, a kiss, but that was the limit.There were rules.He knew them.The punters knew them.The bloke organising it would be with us all the time.”

“He was wrong.Later he told me he kept the bond.For damages.Offered to split it between us.I gave my share to a friend.Blood money.”

“She saidus.”Hunter leaned back against the sofa, his eyes closed.

The night Anna had told him her story, Hunter had been struggling to get past the idea of Nick seeing Anna naked, of Anna’s disgust, and Hunter’s fear she’d see him in the same light.He’d let her distract him, or she’d chosen to keep her friend’s story to herself.By the time Hunter had got his head straight that night, she was asking him about why he’d changed his name.

“What happened to your friend, Anna?”And did it matter after all this time?Someone at the birthday party got a little too familiar, maybe a bit rough—part of Anna’s litany of men who’d enraged her.Not something that would stop Nick’s attack.

What am I missing?

Anna had listed a string of incidents to explain her rage and her uncompromising advocacy for women who’d run out of choices.Had there been a specific incident more important than the others?

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