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Authors: J. D. Chase

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Hunting Truth

BOOK: Hunting Truth
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HUNTING TRUTH

 

(ORION THE HUNTER PART FOUR)

 

J. D. CHASE

 

 

©
J. D. CHASE 2014
(All rights reserved)

Smashwords Edition

ISBN:
9781311207876

 

All characters in this book are fictitious and have
no connection whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names.
All events are either a figment of my imagination or are linked to
personal experiences! Any similarities are purely coincidental . .
. or just plain luck!

 

All rights reserved including the right of
reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this
publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, storage in a file retrieval
system, or otherwise without the express permission of the
author.

 

 

For ‘my girls’ who show me daily what unconditional
love really is. I love you more than you’ll ever know. You make me
proud. You make me laugh. You make me climb the walls in
frustration. But I love you with all my heart and I’m there for any
of you in a heartbeat, whenever you need me xxx

 

For my readers, particularly those who’ve stayed with
me through all the trials and tribulations of the last twelve
months, thank you so much for your support, patience and
understanding. I know how long some of you have waited for this,
the final instalment of Issy and Lucas’ story. I’m not going to go
into everything that has happened here, but 2013 was not a good
year for me. It taught me much about life, love and loss. I urge
all of you to live every day as though it were your last and I wish
you all the very best in whatever you do. You guys are the
best!

 

 

Contents

 

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Six Months Later . . .

Chapter One

 

I was rudely awakened by brilliant spring
sunshine. I scrunched my eyes shut and ducked under the bed
covers.
From the
pounding inside my head, I knew I had a hangover but I couldn’t
remember anything about the night before. I don’t know how exactly,
but I knew I wasn’t in my own bed.

Eventually I managed to peep out from the
bedclothes. I was definitely in someone else’s bed. But I had no
idea whose. Well, from the looks of things, it was a room that
belonged to a man. A man who liked rock music, judging from the
magazines on the bedside table.
Oh God. Please tell me I didn’t get off
with a musician and decide to go to his place instead of mine. Why
aren’t I with Lucas? . . . Lucas . . . Oh hell!

That thought triggered a memory slideshow.
I let my head fall back onto the pillow and closed my eyes. Flashes
of events from the day before flitted through my mind at lightning
speed, making me feel queasy. Then it freeze-framed on Lucas’ face,
showing his immense guilt and torment; confirming that he’d killed
his own mother. My stomach lurched and I felt like I was going to
throw up. I threw my feet out of bed and sat up.

Slowly
, the queasiness began to subside. I tried to recall the
events of the day before and what had happened after I’d confronted
Lucas, but my mind was blank. I still had no idea where I was.
Realizing I was fully clothed, I decided to bite the bullet and
find out.

I opened the door and walked out into a
hallway.
I immediately
knew my whereabouts from the familiar posters on the walls. I was
in Chad and Scott’s apartment.
I’ve slept in either Chad or Scott’s
bed!
Oh my
God, please let me have slept alone!
I’d never been in either of their bedrooms before
and nothing I’d seen in the room revealed which of the two the room
belonged to.

I padded down the hallway and turned into
the living room. There, fast asleep on the sofa, was Scott. That
solved the mystery of whose bed I’d slept in and assured me that
I’d spent the night alone. I puffed out my cheeks and blew out the
breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Then I heard noises in
the kitchen and went to investigate.

As I walked through the door, Chad did a
double take
and his
eyebrows furrowed as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.


Hi, Issy. How did you get in? Is Scott
up?” he asked, breaking into a smile.

I shook my head. “Um. No, he’s still
comatose on the sofa.”


Oh, I wonder why he didn’t . . .” An
expression of comprehension settled over his features before he
turned away quickly. “Ah, I see. Coffee?”


Yes please. That would be lovely. And what
do you see?”

He turned to face me, looking
uncomfortable. “Well, you were in his bed so . . .”

I raised an eyebrow. “And Scott’s on the
sofa. So?”

He gave a nod, turned and busied himself
brewing coffee. I needed to find out more about the events of the
day before. All I knew was that I’d had a few drinks before falling
asleep in Scott’s bed.


Chad, do you know what happened
yesterday?
How I came to
be here?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Sorry, I didn’t
see you, did I? Is something wrong?”

I sighed.
“Just trying to fill in the blanks in my
alcohol-fogged brain.”

He laughed.
“Ah. I see. Do you remember whether you were
drinking with Scott? Or did he just bump into you and get you
safely back here?”


I honestly have no idea. I can’t remember
a thing.”

He chuckled. “Oh, Issy. You really
shouldn’t get in the states that you do. Was it a shock waking up
in Scott’s bed and not knowing how you got there?”

I gave a wry smile. “Yeah, but not as much
as if I’d woken up naked.”

Chad laughed loudly before turning and
handing me my coffee. His laughter was infectious and I joined in,
despite my banging head.


What
’s the joke?” came Scott’s sleepy voice from behind
me.

I spun around not knowing what to
say
, but Chad burst out
laughing again. I slapped his arm and tried to look
innocent.

Scott rubbed his eyes and muttered, “Never
mind. I need a shower.” He yawned and stretched as he left the
room.


Shouldn’t you have asked him how you ended
up in his bed?” asked Chad.

I shrugged. “You saw the state of him. He
probably can’t remember either. Best to wait until a shower has
woken him up properly.”

I walked back into the living room with my
coffee after refusing Chad
’s offer of breakfast. I didn’t trust my stomach to keep
anything down. I sat and tried to remember what had happened the
day before. I re-ran the conversation with the stranger who had
turned out to be Lucas’ brother in my head. Only he wasn’t Lucas
was he? Well, I guess he was but it wasn’t the name he’d been given
at birth—only a name he’d chosen.

Lucas Hunter.
So Luke became Lucas but why Hunter? I had no idea
why he’d chosen that name. I thought of his chosen career path.
Then I thought of his office building—the Orion Building.
Orion the
Hunter!
I sipped my
coffee as I contemplated this. Hunter or hunting was obviously
significant to Lucas in some way. I wondered whether it was to do
with the sport of hunting. But he’d never mentioned it and there
was no sign of a fondness for hunting in his apartment. I shook
that idea from my head. No, Lucas wasn’t a hunter of animal prey. I
wondered what else hunting could relate to but, before I could
think of anything remotely likely, Scott sauntered into the room
and sat down opposite me.

I could see the corner of his mouth
twitching.
There was
obviously something he wanted to say. Something amusing. Well, for
him anyway. I had a feeling I might not see the funny side. I did
my best to ignore him, sipping my coffee and looking away from him.
But after a couple of minutes, I couldn’t stand it.

“What?” I demanded, turning to face him.

His mouth spread into a huge grin as one
eyebrow lifted. Then he laughed softly and shook his
head.

I glared at him and folded my arms.
“Fine. Be like
that.”

He stopped laughing with some difficulty
and regarded me with amusement. “You really don’t remember, do
you?”

“Remember what?” I said crossly.

His incredulous expression made me feel
slightly uncomfortable.
“Last night. What you did. What you said. I can’t believe
you don’t remember. I know you were pissed but still . .
.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.
He wasn’t laughing anymore. He
seemed to be genuinely amazed that I couldn’t recall the events of
the night before. I wondered what I’d done that was supposed to be
so memorable, although I’d obviously been very drunk. I took a deep
breath. “Scott, please just tell me what I did. Whatever it was,
don’t you think I deserve to know?”

There was an almost imperceptible nod of
his head. “Do you remember me finding you here, on the doorstep,
half drunk?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. I
shook my head. “I think I must’ve been more than half drunk by that
time. Otherwise I’d remember.”

He frowned. “You just seemed a little
drunk, not slaughtered. Do you remember getting drunk before you
came here? Where you were? Who you were with? You refused to tell
me when I asked.”

I tried so hard to think but there was
nothing. I remembered Lucas’ face and walking away from him. That
was the last thing I could recall. My stomach lurched at the memory
and my hands felt clammy. I stood and walked to the window, trying
to clear the vision of his face that had formed, crystal clear, in
my mind. “I had a row with Lucas. Well, not a row exactly—more a
parting of ways. That’s all I remember.”

“Ahhhh,” said Scott. “So you went and drowned
your sorrows.”


I assume it was something like that. We
didn’t part on good terms and I was upset.” I turned to face him.
“I can’t even remember leaving my apartment. I wasn’t drinking
then. It’s as if my mind has blanked everything out. All I can see
is Lucas’ face and I obviously left but then . . . nothing. Waking
up in your bed with a hangover is the next thing I can
recall.”

Scott
’s face was the picture of concern. “Something bad
happened, didn’t it? It must have done. Yes, you were pissed last
night and I’m not surprised you can’t remember everything. But you
weren’t that pissed when I found you waiting outside. And you
should remember what you did after leaving your apartment and
turning up here at the very least. Your memory loss is most likely
psychological, Issy. It isn’t alcohol induced. If you want to tell
me what happened with Lucas, I’ll listen and be your friend. If you
don’t, I won’t be offended.”

I contemplated his words.
Could my memory loss be
psychological? My emotional reaction to finding out about Lucas’
dark past was severe. But surely I’d have blocked
that
out . . . unless I couldn’t.
Perhaps I could block out my reaction to it, but not the event
itself. I guessed it was possible. I really needed someone to talk
to. I missed Angel so much all the time but, at that moment, I
needed her like never before. But she wasn’t here and wasn’t
returning my calls or messages. I decided to confide in Scott
instead. I sat next to him and told him about the events of the day
before.

BOOK: Hunting Truth
10.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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