CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE Hunter

B ella stirred and started for the window behind the sofa. I stood and joined her, sliding the blinds to the side.

"Shit!" I muttered, ducking away.

I quickly turned the lights off and crept back to my chair. I didn't want guests and certainly not this one.

Pounding from the door alarmed Bella, but she knew not to bark if I held my hand toward her. "Open this fucking door, Hunt!"

My hand stayed up and toward Bella. Her eyes went from me and toward the racket coming from my front porch.

"I saw you turn the lights off, asshole," Charlie yelled, smacking the door again. "I'll kick the fucker in, Hunt. You know I will. I did it before and I'll fucking do it again!"

The previous four times he'd stopped by, I'd waited him out. But then again, he didn't seem this determined on those visits.

"I'm about to kick the door in, dipshit!" he announced. "Open this door! I need to tell you about a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal who just stopped by the station." I remained as quiet as a mouse. "He's looking for Ben," he added.

I jumped off the recliner and hurried to the door, opening it just as Charlie had his leg raised. "Back off, Skeeter."

Charlie rushed by me and stood in the middle of the living room, glancing around questioningly. "What's different in here?" he asked.

"Nothing," I mumbled. "What the fuck are you on about?"

Charlie walked to the fridge, still looking around my house like he was confused by something. He opened the fridge and looked inside, turning back to me instantly.

"No beer?"

"I've been home for two weeks, asshole. When would I buy beer?"

He sat at the island and grabbed the salt and pepper shakers, keeping his hands busy while he continued looking around the room. I knew what he'd noticed but wasn't going to humor him.

"The dude at the station was massive, Hunt," he began. "He barely fit in his shitty little rental car. Said he was from New York City."

"So?" I asked, leaning against the counter. "We get tourists."

"In fucking December? It's a billion degrees below zero out there right now," he said. "And dudes like this do not visit Plentywood," he added. "This guy could be one of those big-time wrestlers, Hunt."

"You said he asked about Ben," I quantified. "What else?"

Charlie began his story, his hands flying around as he used them for added emphasis. "I figured I might need to pry or dig into his reasons for being here, but he ran his mouth without me asking a damn thing."

I gawked at him, motioning my hand for him to get to the fucking point. " And? "

" And , he tells me he's here to take Ben back to New York. Said they're boyfriends," Charlie revealed. "He actually fucking tells me he ain't even gay, but that Ben makes him want to be gay all of a sudden. Some crazy shit like that."

Now Charlie had my attention. "He called them boyfriends?" I asked. "How big is this guy?" I added, curious about my chances if I had to kick his ass.

"He's fuckin' huge, Hunt," he replied, puffing his cheeks and hulking his shoulders to demonstrate the guy's size. "I shit you not. He's a goddamned giant. A knuckle-dragger for sure. A mother-fucking silverback!"

I raised my hand. "I get it," I agreed. "He's big."

"And he said he's not waiting the rest of the year," Charlie added. "Something about taking Ben back with him today, and them getting a place together. He told me that Ben always wanted them to live together, but because he ain't living that gay shit, he'd refused. But now he was going to let Ben know they could, you know, live together."

"He told you all that? In like, how much time?" I asked.

"I swear, Hunt. The fucker just dumped on me."

"And then what?"

"Then he left, and I hurried here," he answered. "You gotta get to town, Hunt. That gorilla is heading to the clinic if he can find it."

Suddenly, I did feel the same alarm that Charlie had brought with him. This guy would be named Rocco. The man whom Ben was with for three years in some kinda casual hookup thing. All Ben said about Rocco was that they were not committed because Rocco was a closet case. But apparently, it now appeared that Rocco had had a change of heart. Absence can do that to a heart.

"When?" I asked. "How long ago?"

"He has a thirty-minute head start on ya," Charlie confirmed. "He's driving a small Honda he barely fits in, dude. I mean it, this guy is…"

I cut him off. "I get it. He's big."

"You want me come help you kick his ass?" he asked. "I'd wear your sheriff shit so you can intimidate him," he added. "Fuck yeah! Smack his ass with your Billy-club."

Suddenly, I wondered why Charlie had come running to give me a warning concerning Ben and this other guy. Charlie and I had had little contact since the event at Smitty's where he'd lost his shit in front of practically the entire town. And I was abundantly aware Charlie carried a torch for me. Ben leaving Plentywood would suit his purpose, wouldn't it?

But I also knew he and Ben had developed some kind of friendship because Ben was such a decent human being. Ben regularly checked in with Charlie and they texted one another as well. My jealousy reared its ugly head until Ben reassured me he saw Charlie as a man who needed professional help and that he wanted to be that bridge to receiving said help.

"Why'd you come to tell me this?" I asked. "You could've just let it go."

Charlie looked away after my question. Perhaps he hadn't thought I'd ask him such a thing so soon after his outburst. He moved the salt and pepper shakers back to the center of the island, perhaps struggling with an answer.

"Because Ben loves you, Hunt. And you're finally a healthier person too," he added. "Ben is a good guy and you're a good guy."

"Thank you for that, Skeet."

He studied me carefully. "I'm sorry about shit," he said. "It sucked that Mark died, and it sucked that I tried to jump right into your life afterward."

"I could've done better, Skeet. I could've considered your feelings too, but I was too fucked up to see straight," I admitted. "I'm as much at fault as you."

"I know. But Ben gets you, Hunt. He really is the guy that you see, and I see why you love him," he said. "He has been nothin' but nice to me and I don't deserve his kindness."

"Sure you do," I corrected. "But I've probably fucked up my chances with Ben."

Charlie stood and came around the kitchen island. "Then fix it," he urged. "Pull your head out of your ass and go to town before Ben leaves with that guy."

"You really think he'd leave?" I asked, feeling worried.

Charlie shrugged his shoulders, biting his lower lip. "I didn't want to tell you this, but besides this dude being made of solid muscle, he's kinda hot."

"Okay, great! Thanks for that," I bitched.

Charlie pointed at the front door. "You need to get your ass to town. Want me to go with you?"

"Fuck off! I'll be fine," I replied.

"It's your life, dude," he quipped. "Nice knowing you."

I shoved his shoulder before hugging him. "Thank you for this, Skeet."

"What are friends for?" he teased, pulling away and once again glancing around the room. "What is different in here?"

"You're seeing things, dumb fuck," I answered. "Now get outta here so I can leave."

Charlie headed for the door and then stopped before opening it. "Don't let Ben leave," he stated. "Tell him exactly how you feel about him, Hunt. No bullshit either! You fucking tell him you love him!" he lectured, his voice elevated. He pointed at me. "I mean it."