5. Hunter
Chapter five
Hunter
My skin pricks with sudden awareness the moment the door opens, and I clearly see the fear in Ellie’s eyes as they peek out from behind the chain. Her shallow breaths are ragged.
“Hunter?” Her voice cracks on my name, making my pulse kick up under my ribs.
No one in Starlight Valley puts a chain over their door.
I scan our surroundings, my senses heightened, noting the car in the circular driveway—it’s Ellie’s—and taking in the darkened woods edging her parents’ property.
I swear I could hear a leaf fall from a tree right now.
The crisp scent of the fall night mingles with the smell of Rosie’s cupcakes.
The street in front of her house is clear and the house across the street is warmly lit, but no one is outside.
No threats detected.
I fight for my country, but one look at Ellie’s scared brown eyes and my allegiance has changed. I am her warrior. No matter the enemy, I will fight them. My fingers twitch, ready to take down anyone who crosses her path.
Whoever put fear in her eyes, I want to find them and return the favor.
“Hey, Ells,” I say as casually as I can, ignoring the fact that we haven’t seen each other for years. “I just brought you dinner.” I hold up the plate, the warmth of the food still seeping through it.
“Hunter?” she repeats, as if she doesn’t believe it’s really me.
“It’s me,” I reassure her. I set down the food on the front porch and open my hands wide. This seems to snap her out of her state of panic.
She closes the door and I hear her fiddling with the latch to unlock it. My gaze sweeps the area again with a sharp eye, my ears straining against the quiet. I don’t hear any sounds other than some cars in the distance and the breeze rustling through the trees. I bend and pick up the food.
The door opens and I walk through. Ellie stands before me, eyes wide with uncertainty. In one hand, she’s holding a bat, her knuckles white and her hand slightly shaking. The other hand is wrapped protectively around her belly.
Her pregnant belly.
An emotion I can’t name threatens to come up like bile, but I swallow it down. “Is anyone here?” I glance around, listening carefully for any other noises. Ellie shakes her head, but my throat feels tight and my heart rate is still elevated.
I close the door behind me, lock it and put the chain back on, then set the food on the entry table. “Ellie, what in the world is going on?”
I instinctively reach for her shoulders—to comfort her—but she jumps back, and her legs knock into the bench by the door. Her eyes are wide, and her face is pale. Like she’s afraid I’m going to hurt her. It’s a punch to my gut. I mutter a curse under my breath. What is happening?
Ellie looks like a fragile little bird with a hurt wing. I’ve never seen her look like this before.
“I thought—” her voice breaks and she clears her throat. “Before I saw you through the peephole, I thought you were … Dylan.” The name comes out so softly, I barely hear her.
I frown at her, confusion curling within me. “Dylan, your husband?”
She stares down at her feet, her grip on the bat tightening. “He’s not my husband anymore.”
In the span of several heartbeats, I take in her words, the fear in her eyes, the bat she’s holding, and the way she jumped away from my hands. It doesn’t take a mission specialist to figure out what might have happened between Ellie and Dylan.
I didn’t know him well, but I never liked him.
I clench my jaw, a protectiveness like I’ve never known coursing through my veins. I don’t know the details yet. I just know she’s afraid—and that’s enough for me to take action.
“Let’s get you someplace safe, Ells,” I tell her.
She stares at me for a long moment before giving me a nod so subtle I’d miss it if I weren’t waiting for it.
At that, I walk through the house, scanning rooms, checking closets, locking doors.
I help her gather essentials—her phone, charger, a few changes of clothes, some toiletries, and a monstrosity of a pillow.
Then, I bundle her up and get her out of the house as quickly as possible.
Ellie’s in the passenger seat of my truck, a plateful of Rosie’s cupcakes in front of her, while I stuff her huge, oddly shaped pillow into the backseat. I ease my truck along the circular drive as another pair of headlights sweeps in from the opposite side.
My truck’s lights catch on the driver’s face—Dylan.
Heat flashes over my skin as I grip the steering wheel.
Ellie’s breath hitches beside me. I’ve never wanted so badly to pull someone out of their car and pummel them into dust. But Ellie’s trembling fear beats louder than my fury so I leave Dylan in the driveway and pull onto the main road.