Page 44 of Ruining Hattie
HATTIE
“ W hen are you going to tell me why we’re here?” I turn away from the railing of the ferry off Lake Michigan and face Bastion sitting behind me.
After I gave him and his sister some time to catch up on their own, he came into the bedroom, telling me to pack because we were going to his home in Lake Michigan on some island. When I asked why, he insisted he’d explain later.
The fire had definitely shaken both of us, and at first, I thought that maybe he just wanted to get away from it all, but I get the sense there’s more than that.
Bastion rises off the bench and cages me, his hands resting on the railing on either side of me. “Can’t a man whisk his woman away on a romantic rendezvous?”
I place my hand on his chest. “He can, but you and I both know it’s more than that.”
He kisses my temple. “We’ll discuss it when we’re alone.”
I frown but nod, seeing I’m going to get nowhere with him right now.
“We’re almost there.” He points back behind me. “Welcome to Avalon Pointe.”
When I spin in his arms, the dock comes into view. Farther off in the distance is a huge, regal-looking building that sits at the top of a hill.
“That’s the main building.” He bends, resting his cheek along mine, pointing at the building that demands to stand out.
“It houses the rec center, a restaurant and bar, among other things. You won’t see much of it, though, because I’ll be keeping you in my bed all day, every day.
” He pinches my side, and I yelp and laugh.
Once the ferry docks, Bastion links our fingers together, and we walk off. When I question why we’re not getting our bags, he says, “The staff will deliver them.”
He leads me to a deep blue convertible sports car in the parking lot. I have no idea what kind of car it is, but it’s clearly expensive.
“I called to say that I was coming, so the staff brought the car down for me.” He opens the passenger door, and I slip inside.
He pulls out of the parking lot and drives down a single-lane road. It’s hard to focus on one thing because this place has everything—tennis courts, basketball, volleyball, waterslides, pools, and shopping.
“What is this place?”
Bastion glances at me. “Think of it like a resort, only everyone on the island owns their own home on the water. The only way you can set foot on this island is if you live here or work here.”
“So, it’s like a playground for the rich.”
Bast shrugs. “Essentially.”
The fresh air whips through my hair as we drive to wherever Bast’s house is. After a few minutes, he slows and pulls into a long driveway. When the house comes into view, I have to hold back my gasp because it’s gorgeous.
It’s a two-story home with dormers on top and grayed cedar shake for the exterior, reminding me of something you might see on the East Coast. The gardens are immaculately kept, and the sprawling lawn leads down to the water. I’m not sure why we’re on this island, but I’m suddenly happy that we are.
Bast parks the car and comes around to let me out, taking my hand and leading me inside. “Let me give you the grand tour?”
“You don’t have to. I’m sure I’ll figure my way around.” I let go of his hand and walk farther into the house.
This space has a different feel than his condo in Seattle—homier and more relaxed, though I’m sure everything in this space is just as expensive.
Bastion walks past me toward the back of the house. “The fridge should be stocked.” I hear him open the fridge. “Yup, we’re good.”
I follow the sound of his voice.
He turns when he hears me enter the kitchen. “Do you want to go out on the boat?”
“There’s a boat?”
He motions to the large windows that line the breakfast area. Sure enough, at the end of the rolling lawn is a dock with a fast- looking boat. I can’t help but notice the jet ski. I’ve never been on a jet ski, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to try.
I whip around to face Bast. “Can we go out on the jet ski instead?”
He chuckles at my excitement. “Jet ski it is. Do you have a swimsuit?”
My shoulders sag. I don’t. I left mine in Wisconsin when I moved west, not thinking I would need one in Seattle. “I don’t, but maybe I can just go in my shorts and a T-shirt?”
Bast slides his phone from his pocket. “No worries. I’ll tell the staff to bring one with them when they bring our bags.”
A half an hour later, I step out onto the back patio wearing a yellow bikini with little blue flowers.
It’s one of those triangle-styled ones I’ve always thought showed way too much.
I do love the small ruffle along the bottom portion, though.
I think it looks cute on me, but it has way less fabric than the one-piece or tankinis I usually wear.
I feel practically naked, which shouldn’t matter given that Bast has seen me actually naked, but what about anyone else?
I take a deep breath and push open the door.
Bast turns and whistles. “Fuck, babe, let’s ditch the jet ski idea.” His eyes soak me in, and I love watching the change in his eyes as he enjoys my body. “You look hot.”
I preen under his attention while admiring him as well. He’s wearing a pair of navy board shorts, and his tan skin glistens under the sun’s rays.
“You look pretty good yourself.”
He chuckles. “Do you want some sunscreen?” He motions to the bottle on the table beside him.
“Yes, that’d be great.” I hold out my hand for him to pass it to me.
“You think I’m not going to take this opportunity to rub it all over your body?” He shakes his head playfully, and I laugh.
“All right. Do your worst.” I turn my back to him and hear him squirt some of the lotion out of the bottle, then set it back down on the table.
His large palm comes down on the center of my back. I close my eyes when he reaches my shoulders and neck, squeezing. When he’s done the rest of my back, he gets down on his haunches and slides his hands along the backs of my legs.
His fingers are so close to the center of my thighs, and my breath hitches when he drags his hands all the way up.
But he doesn’t give me the relief I need, chuckling as though he knows exactly what I’m thinking before he stands and turns me around by the shoulders.
I face him, and when his gaze drags down my body, my nipples pebble in my bathing suit, something he doesn’t fail to notice.
He squirts more lotion onto his hands and begins with my stomach, spreading it around and coming mere millimeters from the bottom of my breasts. I suck in a breath and arch toward him.
Bast chuckles low in his throat, and I smack his arm. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
His eyes twinkle and his lips curve into a smile, but he doesn’t say anything, continuing until my skin is glistening and smells like coconuts.
We head down to the dock, and Bast grabs two life jackets out of the small outbuilding. I slide mine on, and when we’re standing beside the jet ski, he looks at me. “You want to drive?”
My eyes widen. “Absolutely not.” I chuckle. “I’ll just hold on.”
He shrugs. “All right, well, let me know if you change your mind.”
Ten minutes later, I’m screaming and holding on for dear life as we whip over the waves. I feel as though I might be gripping Bast too hard, but he doesn’t say anything or ask me to loosen my hold.
The sun heats my skin, but the spray from the water cools it down immediately. I feel a world away from the events of yesterday. Beyond my raspy throat and the cough I still have, you wouldn’t know, looking at us right now, how traumatic yesterday was.
I’ve been trying to push it from my mind, but I keep getting flashes of the flames, the smoke, the feeling that it would soon all be over, and no one was coming to help me. But Bast did come, risked his life to get me out, and that’s something I can never repay.
By the time we finish up on the jet ski, I’m famished, so rather than take the time to make something, Bast orders for us from one of the restaurants on the island. We shower while we wait for it to arrive. Afterward, we relax and watch a movie until we can barely keep our eyes open.
Bast still hasn’t brought up why we’re here, but I get the impression that it’s more than just wanting to get away from it all. Shouldn’t he be handling things with insurance and stuff?
It isn’t until we’re lying in bed and I’m looking at the stars glistening in the night sky out the window that I work up the courage to ask him, hoping he’ll be straight with me.
“Will you tell me now why we’re really here?” I ask in a quiet voice. I roll onto my side and tuck my hands under my cheek.
I watch Bast’s profile. He closes his eyes in the dim light before he turns his head and looks at me.
“Because I want to keep you safe.”
The breath rushes from my lungs. “Safe from what?”
A pained expression crosses his face, but he tells me who Sean is and what he and his organization do in Bast’s clubs. It takes me a moment to wrap my brain around it all, and I’m silent for a long while after he finishes speaking.
Bast rolls over me and places a hand on my cheek. “Hattie, I’m so sorry you got caught up in my bullshit. If anything had happened to you…” Tears glisten in his eyes before he lowers his forehead to mine.
I don’t blame him for the fire, if it was indeed set intentionally. That was someone else’s action, not his own. But allowing drugs to be sold in his club and taking a portion of the profits…
It doesn’t match up with the man I know. I don’t understand his motivation. At all.
“I know that you’re going to look at me differently now, but you deserve to know. Believe me, if I had ever thought he was a threat to you, even indirectly, I would have told you sooner.”
“Why did you let him do that in the first place?”
He stares at me, studying my face in the dark. From the way he runs his fingers through my hair and the low huff, he’s hesitant to tell me. “Honestly? Money.”
But it’s more than that. I can tell by the stricken look on his face. “Tell me the truth. If you really want me to understand, you have to tell me all of it.”
He rolls off of me and pushes himself up so that his back rests against the headboard. I can see that he’s retreating, but I won’t let him. I’m going to fight for us even if he can’t in this moment. So I get up too and straddle him, laying a hand on each of his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze.
“I just want to understand. Help me understand.”
He holds my gaze for a beat before a ragged breath shudders out of him. “When I was eleven years old, I ran away from home because, as you know, my mother was an addict and couldn’t or wouldn’t protect me.”
A horrified gasp slips from my lips. “Bast… that’s…”
His eyes harden a bit. “You have no idea. No. Idea.”
I nod. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry. Where did you go? How did you survive?”
He goes on to tell me more detail about the man who isn’t his birth father. How he took Bast under his wing.
“Thank goodness he found you.” I run my hand down his cheek the way my mom always did to offer me comfort, and he stills before taking my wrist gently and pulling my hand away from his face.
“You may not think that when you hear how I was raised.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“He taught my sister and me how to run cons on people. Some big, some small, but we fleeced people out of money the entire time I was growing up. It wasn’t until about a decade ago that I stopped, started my business, and left it all behind.”
I try to wrap my brain around everything he’s told me, but it’s hard to imagine Bast as a child, going from one horrible situation to another.
And to be raised that way… no wonder he thought nothing of letting drug pushers sell their wares inside his business.
It probably seemed like nothing compared to what he was used to.
This man didn’t stand a chance of being a well-adjusted adult with good morals and values.
But I’ve seen the man at the heart of him. That’s who I fell in love with, and I’m not going to give up on him.
There’s one thing I still don’t understand, though. “What does all that have to do with why you let Sean into your club?”
He presses his lips together and looks at me with remorse.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be hungry because your mom’s been on a bender for a week and you haven’t eaten in days.
You don’t know what it’s like to sit in a dingy, cold, dark apartment because she didn’t pay the bills or even get you a winter coat to keep you warm.
To be so envious of the kids on the street who would walk by with a pop.
A pop. It’s nothing, yet some days, it felt like everything.
” His voice cracks, and I grip his hand.
“I used to steal to survive—food, wallets. That’s what put me on Trent’s radar to begin with, why he took me in if I’m being honest. I was a grifter because it seemed like an easy way to make money, but eventually it got old, and I wanted to earn money for myself.
I never wanted to feel like that little boy in those cold apartments again.
Ever. So when Sean showed up and propositioned me, I accepted because it would put more money in my pocket. It was greed, plain and simple.”
I disagree, I think it was trauma, but I don’t say that. “Didn’t you ever feel guilty, though, given that your mom was an addict?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes. But I’d convince myself that if someone decided to partake, that was their own decision. I wasn’t shoving drugs up their noses.”
A part of me knows I should be angry or look down on him for what he did, but I can’t find it in myself to do so. I just keep picturing him as a child, hungry and alone with no one to turn to. Manipulated by the man who ended up taking care of him—at least physically.
Bast’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears and full of the pain he’s been carrying around for his thirty-seven years.
“I know this probably changes how you see me, and I don’t blame you, but I needed you to know the truth. I needed you to know who I am before this goes any further. So, I guess the question is… do you still want me now that you know how fucked up I am?”