Hunter: Reawakened Series, page 1
Hunter
Taylor K Scott
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2024 Taylor K. Scott
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the author.
Warning: The following work of fiction describes content of a sexual nature. It also discusses sensitive themes including violence and mental health issues. See Author’s Note for more information.
DEDICATION
To anyone going through tough times, this is for you. I’ve been there too, and I know how hard it is to pick yourself up every day. I hope reading brings you a little peace during those times of struggle. Much love and happiness. X
Musical Influences
All For You – Cian Ducrot and Ella Henderson
Exile – Taylor Swift (feat.Bon Iver)
All the Stars – Kendrick Lamar, SZA
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to the community of writers and readers out there who have answered questions, read my work, given me advice, and shared my work. Thank you to all of you!
To my beta readers, Liz Rogers, Freya Martin, Charlotte Mieu, Phoebe Black, and Mama Sue, who all took the time to read this book during the early stages. Just to have someone read my work and offer their opinion is always so empowering for me. I sincerely appreciate you offering me your time, support, and advice.
I must also thank my poor, suffering husband for supporting me through my obsession with writing. Not only has he had to live with my reading habit, which is becoming more and more consuming, but also has the added bonus of losing me to my own works of fiction. Know that I love you dearly, as well as our two beautiful girls, and appreciate all the encouragement you have given me.
Finally, but most importantly, thanks to everyone who has taken a chance on my novel. I hope it hasn’t disappointed, and that you might take a chance to read some of my upcoming releases. Thank you so much again.
Author’s Note
The ‘Reawakened’ trilogy contains scenes that may be hard to read and may trigger some people. They include scenes of sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. ‘Hunter’ looks closely at family relationships, and includes themes of loss, infidelity, and illness. I have no intention of offending anyone or any culture.
This series has a major theme of mental health running through it, including depression, abuse, bullying, anxiety, and PTSD.
Prologue
Louisa
You can’t choose who your family are.
That’s what they say, isn’t it?
What they don’t tell you is you can’t choose when you lose them either. My family was ripped apart by tragedy much too soon. A prank gone wrong is what they said, an accident that claimed the life of my mother when I was only a year old. What they meant was, we deserved it. You affiliate yourself with motorbike gangs and this is what happens. The father is left a widower, and the kids are left a little messed up, a little rough around the edges, a little traumatized, even years after the event.
My make-shift family changed after just one night, forever living with the consequences of someone’s act of revenge…or whatever it was. We had to adapt, my father, brother, and I, to make the best of what was left. Being so young, I never knew what it was that we had before, how special it had been. But I also didn’t know where I belonged in this new life, so I drifted for a while. I watched others in silence, keeping myself hidden in the shadow of my big brother, the boy who had saved me from the flames that had engulfed our mother. Trouble is, that boy was hiding demons of his own. He was as lost as I was; he just showed it a little differently…a lot differently.
Years passed by and I still craved something I never got to experience, for I was far too young to remember what it was like before our mother was murdered. But then, when my father was feeling as desperate and hopeless as I was, he took me to meet a family whom I came to embrace; a family that, to a young girl, was everything she thought she had been missing; a ‘normal’ family. A father, a mother, and their two sons, Javier and Antonio.
Ava Ortega was the type of mother who I like to believe my own mom would have been like. She baked cookies every Tuesday, cooked home-made meals, sang songs in a language that I didn’t understand but which always soothed away my tears, read bedtime stories until I fell asleep right beside Antonio, and she always told me she loved me as if I were one of her own children. Javier, who was the same age as Phoenix, was aloof, rough, and always getting into trouble with my brother. Antonio, however, was my age, and everything his brother wasn’t – kind, caring, gentle.
Antonio, ‘Tony’, soon became my everything – my best friend and the man who would become my lover. I thought he would be my forever boy, the one with whom I could have my own perfect family. But it would seem tragedy wasn’t yet done with me. It came knocking at my door again, and again, until eventually, I lost that boy I fell so desperately in love with. I was left to finally accept the fact that the perfect family I had been dreaming of would be forever out of reach. Perfect families were for other people; people like the ‘suits’ I worked for; people like Theo Chase and Daniel Hunter. Normal people.
Chapter 1
Present
Daniel
There’s something comforting about returning home at night. I don’t know how to describe it with intelligible words, but touching down on the tarmac, taking in the familiar surroundings when it’s the pitch black of night, is something that never gets old. Three months in London was long enough for me; I’m a home boy and proud to be so. The world is beautiful, historically fascinating, and incredibly interesting, but home is a feeling, and I’ve sure as hell have missed it.
It's gone midnight, way past sociable hours, but I’m a good son, so when my mother has me promising to text her to tell her I’ve returned home safely, I do as I’m told.
Your thirty-year-old son is home, Mommy, you can sleep easy now. Xx
I smile to myself, knowing she’s going to roll her eyes and chuckle over my cheek as soon as she reads this. But after everything that went down with Theo and his girl, the same girl he’s been harping on about for the last decade or so, I count myself extremely lucky to have the parents I do. The Hunters are so wholesome, so in love, so adorably suburban, they belong in a Hallmark movie. In fact, watch any Christmas flick, the ones that have consistent instrumentals playing in the background, and you’re bound to see a fictitious version of them.
Ok, Daniel, I’m going to bed now but I’ll call you in the morning so you can tell me all about London. Lord, your father’s snoring again! Xx
Less than two hours later, I’m paying the cab driver and wheeling my suitcase up to my front door. A sound I haven’t heard for months enters my ears, which instantly relaxes me. It’s the sound of waves crashing on the beach that sits directly behind my house, a blissful percussion I’ve missed; perhaps, for the first time in too long, I might sleep well. Taking the opportunity to inhale the salty air, I finally find my key to unlock the door, which opens to reveal the nostalgic scent of home. Well, the smell of the air freshener Georgia always uses after she’s cleaned the place.
I reach in and press the switch to shed light all over the living room, where I see a bright red balloon floating around by the couch. It’s wishing me ‘Welcome Back’, to which I grin, knowing Georgia must have bought it for me. I’m a workaholic so having her in my life is a real bonus. My house would be like the bottom of a garbage truck if I didn’t have her or Sam, the gardener, sorting it all out for me. For that very reason, I pay well, and I tip handsomely on birthdays, Christmases, and other special occasions.
After dumping my stuff inside of my room, I waste no time in stripping off my sweltering suit. I only wore it because Theo and I had had one last meeting with the guys fronting up the London office before we had to catch a flight home. Izzy was so excited about coming over here in first class that she practically bounced up and down the whole way back. I could tell Theo was getting a hard-on just watching her so it’s easy to guess how they’re currently celebrating their homecoming. They deserve it though; both have been through plenty of shit and have also spent far too long apart. I’m happy for both of them.
The sound of my shower, along with the delicious pressure of hot water, has me indulging in the sensation for at least half an hour. Alas, tiredness suddenly hits me, so I jump out and wrap a towel around my ass before taking a seat on my king-sized bed to listen to my answering machine. The first message is from my mom, still complaining about my dad’s ‘obnoxiously loud snoring’ as well as informing me that my sister is in town. The second message is from Louisa at the office, her quiet, timid voice telling me she will be in late tomorrow because of a long-awaited doctor’s appointment. The final message is from Theo, so I laugh, seeing as I’ve only just left the guy.
“Heads up, we meet with Matthews tomorrow. Ten am, try not to be an asshole on the first meeting. These people are our bread and butter, Daniel. I’m gonna go and make love to my woman, then turn in for the night. Over and out.”
Trent Matthews, up-and-coming movie star, is hot on everyone’s lips right now because
The trouble is, while directors like him for his ability to be on the front of every paper on a weekly basis, they are also losing confidence in his ability to be professional when filming. The press is becoming a little too negative and now he’s losing jobs because of it. With all this in mind, his father has now got involved, and has hired our little outfit to try and rein him back in. A lot of income but also a lot of headache. Ah, well, tomorrow me can deal with that one; now me is ready for my bed and the type of sleep that has you waking up and trying to remember what year it is.
______
“Good morning, asshole,” I greet Theo with my usual charm and grace, to which he grins with a smugness that reminds me of our days together at college. “And how is it, I always get lumbered with the train wrecks? The idiot back in London was enough to drive me round the fucking bend.”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
He cocks his head and gives me one of his shit-eating grins. The smug bastard has probably just had a night of hot sex and now gets to palm off the latest celebrity disaster onto me.
We enter the office together, coffee cups already in hand from the place up the road, made extra strong for this morning, especially after a long flight home. Our offices aren’t particularly big, but they don’t need to be. Theo and I are the only agents at the moment, so besides us, there’s only a handful of people to run all the behind-the-scenes stuff like finance, administration, and of course, our personal assistant, Louisa Flynn. She’s young, early twenties, but excellent at her job. However, with the way business has been building, I wouldn’t be surprised if we needed to get a new PA to share the workload. If I have my way, Louisa will be staying with me, though I know Theo will fight me for her.
“When’s Louisa due in?” Theo asks, looking up at the clock and groaning; it’s already gone nine and Trent Matthews is due in at ten.
“No idea,” I reply, turning on my Mac and looking over my desk to check everything is just as I left it. I don’t have many personal effects, but it’s functional and organized, the way I like things. Theo always tells me I should have gone into the military, but I’d be awful at taking orders. It’s therefore of no surprise that Theo and I built up our own business together. We both worked hard to learn the ropes, with each of us gaining experience at much bigger agencies, but this is much more my scene.
We’re relatively small, but some clients like this about us; we give them a personal touch. We’re not some big, faceless company that only sees them as walking dollar signs. We put in the extra time and effort to get to know them and understand where they’ll shine. This also attracts some of our more troubled clients like Trent Matthews.
“Hope she’s in before he is,” Theo tsks, “it doesn’t look so professional when our own PA isn’t here to sit in on the meeting.”
“I keep saying we need someone else,” I sigh, rolling my eyes over his inability to retain any information that isn’t something to do with Izzy. “You can’t begrudge Louisa for needing to visit the doctor when she needs to, and you can’t expect her to cover the whole office twenty-four-seven.”
“Yeah, you’re right, we need to get an ad out there, but…I get Louisa,” he says, turning his back on me to head toward his own office.
“No way!” I shout as he walks away. “Besides, I already voted, and you lost.”
Unfortunately, Louisa was not back in time to meet and greet Trent Matthews, who was twenty minutes late himself. He had walked in with a bodyguard next to him, a hulk of a man, named ‘RIP’. I have to admit, it was hard not to show any signs of amusement when Theo and I were formally introduced to him. I swear we were both singing the mantra, ‘Don’t look at him, don’t look at him!’, when we both shook hands with the guy. Trent’s father walked in last, even though he was the one who arranged this meeting. The poor guy looks as though he’s working with his last nerve already.
Now for the man himself, Trent Matthews, an aspiring superstar who is beginning to get noticed by a number of directors. Unfortunately, the pretty boy in front of me has already let the limelight get to both his head and his wallet. Donning a pair of dark shades inside of our office, his skin looks pale, his expression lucid and his hair is somewhat slicked back in a half-hearted attempt at being styled. I can only describe what he’s wearing as ridiculous, though I can already tell it’s his attitude that’s going to be the worst of his ensemble today.
Without Louisa to see them through, I lead them into the meeting room myself. A simple, minimalistic space with only a mahogany oval-shaped table to make it anywhere close to interesting, along with six matching chairs. Antique apparently, though I couldn’t tell you any of their history for they were something my parents gifted to us when we first opened our doors. I didn’t have the heart to tell them they looked more suited to an old French chateau instead of a modern urban office for the potentially rich and famous. We vowed to get rid of the set when we could afford something new, however, years later, they’re all still here, looking like intruders.
Making it stand out even more is a small kitchenette. It does the job of making hot drinks, reheating leftovers from the night before for lunch, as well as storing an old tin of cookies that went stale last year. Rip…or RIP, takes up at least a quarter of the room but at least chooses to remain by the door where he guards it like a bored bouncer with his hands clasped together, staying silent and brooding. The way he stares into nothing has you wondering if he's managed to fall asleep with his eyes open. Trent, the walking cliché of a new celebrity who has just discovered what good marketing and a few successful model campaigns can do for a guy, saunters in, slumps himself on top of the chair, then throws his right booted foot onto the table. He’s under the misguided belief that he will stay like this; that everyone will always want him. He should realize this could all change within the blink of an eye. Tomorrow, it could be all stolen away from him, and passed onto another pretty face. He needs to sell his talent, not his propensity to fuck up every other week. People will only withstand a bad reputation for so long before they lose interest and move on.
Trent’s father, who at least looks respectable in his suit and tie, sits beside his offspring. He smiles nervously, which can only mean we’re his last chance. Theo and I both automatically turn to face him, bypassing the walking joke of a man who is his son.
“Good morning,” Theo begins, shuffling through the newspapers and magazines that have headlined some of Trent’s ridiculous behavior in recent months. His father, understandably, winces at the sight of them. “For starters, let me apologize for our absent PA. Unfortunately, she has an appointment, but we are expecting her at any time now. She’ll bring in the proposed contracts as soon as she arrives.”
Trent juts his chin up and smirks arrogantly, whereas his father waves a dismissive hand in front of his face; to be fair, a missing PA is the least of his worries.
“So, we’ve been putting the feelers out there on Trent’s behalf,” Theo continues, “unfortunately, the same issues keep rearing their heads whenever we mention your son’s name.”
He pauses to gauge if there is going to be any hint of a reaction from the thirty-year-old idiot dressed in a leopard print jacket, leather pants, and punk-style boots. There isn’t.
“Look, we realize Trent has a reputation for partying, sleeping around with inappropriate people, and generally being a prize moron,” his father says nonchalantly. Expecting at least some sort of comeback to this, we both turn to watch Trent, but he merely shrugs wordlessly. Rolling his eyes, his father continues with his rant. “But I need you guys to man him up because I can’t deal with any of this anymore. If he wants to throw his life down the toilet, that’s fine. But before he does, he has to pay his mother and me back for all the money we’ve thrown at his career since he was fifteen years old. The sorry excuse for a son has all but squandered the money away on booze, drugs, and women. The guy’s a walking, talking cliché; I mean, just look at him!”
