Chapter 17

17

F inally, my body feels as though a weight has been lifted from it, and my eyes slowly open. I don't move too fast as I'm unsure how I feel.

So far, if I'm not moving, I seem to be okay.

My eyes dance around the area in front of me. I'm not in the original room where I was staying. This one has the same features as my own, though.

Someone groans beside me, and my head flicks toward the sound. My eyes bulge at the sight of Hunter lying there shirtless with his eyes shut. I can't help but admire him. There's a peacefulness to his features that I haven't had a chance to witness.

He always seems so serious, like something is haunting him. His expression is always that of concern.

My eyes are drawn to the defined six-pack he has. I chew my bottom lip, my hand becoming twitchy, wanting to reach out and run my fingers over those smooth bumps. But I have an urgency that needs to be met—the bathroom is calling me.

I shift slightly, and pain radiates through my body, causing me to wince. Glancing down, I groan. A light sheet sits over my tender limbs.

Hunter springs up like a jack-in-the-box. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" His hands hover over my body, and his wild eyes inspect every part of me to check that I'm intact.

I'm wearing a black tank and boy shorts underwear. There are white patches scattered up the left side of my body, and I'm too afraid to move again for fear of the agony that will go shooting through every part of me.

"I'm fine," I grumble. Heat climbs up my throat toward my face, and I know I'm turning a bright shade of red.

Hunter slides out of the bed, pulling on a white shirt. My eyes are drawn to the way his muscles shift and flex with his movements as he comes to my side.

"What do you need?" His hands rub down his black jeans. There's worry etched on his face as his eyes move along my half-covered body.

I raise my left arm, not thinking, and a stabbing pain shoots up my arm. I can't help but cry out, bringing it up to rest it across my chest.

"Maybe avoid lifting that arm. You were shot in the shoulder."

I frown. Shot?

"What happened to me?" I close my eyes, trying to remember exactly what happened.

"Now's not the time to talk about it. You need to rest and heal before we discuss anything. What do you need?" Frustration slides off his tongue with each word spoken.

I stare at him. If I could shoot daggers with my eyes, he'd be dead. "The bathroom."

Without another word, he pulls the sheet off me, and I catch his twitching jaw muscle again. Gently, he slides his hands underneath me, and my good arm wraps around his shoulders. Hunter pulls me against his body, and I revel in his calmness.

We get to the toilet, and he places me on my feet. I wobble slightly, but his arms quickly wrap around me to steady me. "Will you be all right?" He glances down at me with a hunger in his eyes, our bodies pressing firmly against each other.

I swallow and nod, keeping my left arm to my chest, the throbbing continuing. "Do you have a sling or something for my arm? It's hurting like crazy." The pain is unbearable, but I don't want to let Hunter know.

"May has one. I'll go grab it." Slowly, he loosens the pressure of his hold. The warmth from his arms disappears, and I'm left standing on my own. A biting chill fills my body from my toes to the top of my head, along with a lonely feeling I've felt plenty of times.

Hunter walks out and closes the door behind him, and I can't hold it in anymore. Tears flood my eyes. My body feels as though it's been torn to shreds by knives. With my good arm, I push my underwear down and ever-so-slowly place myself on the toilet seat.

When I finish, I awkwardly wipe and tug my underwear back up, then slowly walk to the basin and wash my hands. Looking up, I'm shocked by the reflection staring back at me. One of my cheeks is colored with purple bruising mixed with healing scratches, and above my eyebrow, butterfly Band-Aids hold a cut together. My fingers slide over the bruise and hover over the bandage.

Miles, my brother, did this.

Everything comes flooding back as soon as I think his name. The gunshot. Running for my life. Hunter finding me in the bushes. My body trembles at the thought of nearly dying once again.

The bathroom door slowly opens, and my heart races. I stumble slightly, but Hunter is at my side, steadying me within seconds. "I've got you," he whispers against my damp cheek.

Leaning back, I stare into those haunting eyes. "It was Miles."

He simply nods, his mouth pursed.

I can see Miles' face, that daunting black stare boring a hole into my soul. There was so much venom and hate in how he spoke to me.

He wanted me dead.

"Is he...dead?" I choke on the last word. My right hand grips Hunter's shirt so tightly my nails are pressing into my skin through the fabric.

"Here, let's get you back to bed. May is bringing you some soup if you're up for it."

Just the mention of food has my stomach grumbling loudly.

Hunter smiles. "Well, I think that solves that. Come here." Again, he scoops me up and carries me back to bed, where he's propped some pillows to help me sit up.

After he places me in bed, he turns to leave, but I reach out and take his hand. His grip tightens on mine, and my chest tightens with affection. "Please don't leave me," I say, staring up at him with pleading eyes. I don't want to be alone. The last time he left me, I became the hunted.

Turning back toward me, he squeezes my hand. "I'm not leaving. I've just got a phone call to make, and then I'll be back. I'll be right out there." He points to the patio, leans over, and presses his lips to my hair. "I'll never let you out of my sight again."

I begrudgingly release his hand, and my eyes follow him out of the room onto the patio.

A couple of minutes later, May walks in carrying a tray of food, and never in my life have I been happier to see someone than I am at this moment, except when I saw Hunter come for me in the woods. Relief washes over me, and all of my emotions slam into me like a freight train. My hand comes up and covers my face, and I can't stop the flow of tears from my eyes.

"Oh, honey." In seconds, May is by my side, wrapping me in arms that should have comforted me as I grew up, but she's here now, and that's all that matters.

The pain in my chest is a mixture of fear and hurt. I never wanted to be put in that situation again like the one six months ago when Hunter saved me, and yet there I was, staring down the barrel of a gun held by my blood relative.

Shouldn't he have been on my side? Shouldn't he have cared for me like a bother should?

"Let it all out, honey. I'm right here."

My sobs fill the bedroom, only the sound of the sliding door opening and closing breaks through. Hunter doesn't say anything, but I know he's still here. I sense him close by and believe him when he says he'll never let me out of his sight again. It's a small comfort. Still, it doesn't settle the anxiety that now fills me, causing my heart to race as though it's about to escape my chest.

I don't know how long passes before the tears finally settle and I'm able to speak. I lean back, and May releases me, offering me a down-turned smile. I must look like a hot mess, tears still running down my face. "Sorry," I mumble, wiping my face.

May's hand comes up and rests against my cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry about. You went through something traumatic, and I'm here for you. No matter what." She holds my gaze. "Here. I have some food."

Turning around, she picks up the tray she walked in with off the floor and places it on the bed. It's a bed table, so the tray doesn't sit on my scratched-up legs, for which I'm grateful.

"It's chicken soup and some juice. If there's anything else you need, please let me know."

I smile even though, inside, I'm broken. "Thanks, May."

She rises from the bed and leaves the room, then Hunter comes and sits at my side.

"Do you need any help?" he asks gently.

"I think I can manage. Thanks, though."

Picking up the spoon, I take a little bit of the soup, and once it hits my tongue, it's like a party in my mouth. I've never tasted anything as good as this. My diet has been diner meals. The staff discount was an important factor in my budget.

I sense Hunter watching every move I make. Once I've eaten half the soup, I'm ready for more answers. I feel like I've waited long enough. Turning my head in his direction, I ask, "What happened to my brother?"