Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hunter
The alcohol warmed my body as it traveled through my veins—a nice reprieve from the internal anguish I’d been experiencing as of late. Tilting my head back, I stared at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes. I’ve always been a casual drinker, but lately, it’s been much worse. Everything has been much worse. Luckily, it was Friday night so that saved me from having to go to classes hungover.
Principal Hawthorn announced Raven and Aspen’s disappearances yesterday over the intercom and now, we were all on edge. So far, they were suspected to be runaways. For our case, I hoped it stayed that way.
Reaching for my bottle of unprescribed Adderall, I twisted off the cap and dumped a handful of pills into the palm of my hand. Knocking them back, I took a swig of my whiskey and swallowed. My drug-usage was also something that had increased over the last two weeks, but it was under control. My paranoia of getting caught by the police was eating away at me, but there’s no way I was going to tell the guys that. Myles and Foster probably wouldn’t understand. They were already chewing into Collin for it—they didn’t need to worry about me on top of it.
My phone started ringing, pulling me out of my drunken haze. Snatching it off the bed, I checked the caller ID and suddenly, all the alcohol I’d consumed threatened to spill out of me when my mom’s name flashed across the screen. Building up the courage I needed in order to have whatever conversation she wanted, I swiped right.
“What the fuck do you want now?” I snapped into the receiver.
The last time we’d spoken was probably close to a year ago and it was to beg me for money. I figured she stopped asking because she snagged a rich boyfriend or something who supplied her with all the alcohol and crank she desired.
She huffed on the other end of the line, clearly annoyed by my attitude. Frankly, I didn’t give a shit. All she cared about was partying, getting laid, and drugs. Looks like we were two peas in a pod. An internal scoff got lodged in my throat as I contemplated that. The difference between us was, I didn’t have kids, she did and that still wasn’t enough to change her.
“Now Hunter,” she admonished. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”
Annoyance slithered through me. “What do you want?” I demanded, repeating my question. There was no reason for small talk; it wasn’t like we were close or anything. Never have been.
“I just wanted to reach out to you; we haven’t talked in a while, and I miss you.” Lies . They were all lies. If she missed me, she’d make an effort to reach out, aside from asking me for money that she never intended on paying back.
Reaching for my pre-rolled blunt and lighter, I rolled my thumb across the ball until a flame ignited. Then, I placed the blunt in my mouth and lit it, keeping my phone against my ear and shoulder. I inhaled deeply, allowing the smoke to burn my throat before blowing it back out into the air. I was going to need to be as high as possible for this conversation.
“Whose fault is that?” I bit back, refusing to fall for her shit. Maybe when I was younger, I’d be more likely to believe her. Not now.
Ruffling sounded on the other end, indicating she was moving around. “I can’t call you just to talk?” she questioned, hurt lacing her tone. It was all bullshit, though. We’ve been playing these games for years and it always came down to one thing.
Taking another hit off my blunt, I blew it out before bothering to reply. “Since when do you ever call me just to talk?” I challenged.
“Hunter—”
“No,” I snapped, cutting her off. “I’m tired of these fucking games. Tell me what the hell it is you really want, or I’m hanging up.” I’ve been fine enough without her in my life and didn’t need her pretending she gave a shit. I knew the truth, and at this point, it was just an insult.
There was a long silence that seemed to stretch on for hours. She was probably trying to figure out how to word her monetary request in order to make it sound like she wasn’t the money-hungry bitch I’ve grown to know her as. By this point, the Adderall was beginning to do its job and my veins warmed even more than they had with just the alcohol.
“You remember, Ritchie, don’t you?” she began slowly, testing the waters.
Ritchie just so happened to be one of my mom’s latest boyfriends. I hadn’t heard his name in a while though, so I figured they broke up and figured that’s why she reached out to me for money all those months ago. He wasn’t her usual type. She usually went after guys that could supply her addictions and other things she wanted, and Ritchie…he was a bum. The dude couldn’t even afford toilet paper.
“What about him?” was my only reply. I wanted to get this conversation over with.
“Well, he’s in jail and I need to borrow some money to get him out. I promise I’ll pay you back. He got locked up over some bullshit warrant?—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growled into the device, my hands shaking. I didn’t know if that was a result of the drugs, anger, or both. “You want me to pay your boyfriend’s bond?” This was a new low for her. I mean, she was full of lows, but this might have been up there with ‘most fucked up shit’ she’s done to me over the years.
I couldn’t count how many times she’s cried to me over the abuse he was putting her through. I’d given her money when she called me up, stating that she needed to get away from him and that she’d be signing into a women’s shelter. A part of me knew it was a lie, but I still had hope that for once in her pathetic ass life, she’d do the right thing.
“You don’t understand, baby,” she continued in a small voice, the sentence breaking at the end as she tried to stifle her sob. “He means so much to me. I love him.”
Anger surged through me. What about the child she abandoned? Did she even love me? I scoffed at that, already knowing the answer. Blowing out a shaky breath, I said, “You need a heart in order to love, and last time I checked, you were a soulless bitch who only cared about herself.” I didn’t bother letting her reply. This conversation was over. Ending the call, I silenced my phone before tossing it on the bed and then, I reached for the bottle of bourbon.
The distant sound of voices woke me from my slumber. My entire body felt stiff as I worked on prying my eyes open. I wasn’t sure how much alcohol I’d consumed last night or when sleep overpowered my ability to stay awake, but I guess it didn’t matter.
Once I was fully coherent, the voices became clearer, and my vision slowly began to focus. Myles and Foster loomed over my bedside, both looking at the mess I’d made around my room over the last two weeks.
Fuck.
Propping myself up on my elbows, my head spun from the migraine and my stomach twisted with nausea.
“Look who’s finally awake.” Myles smirked, bringing Foster’s attention to me. The two stared at me with vastly different expressions. Foster looked at me with disgust while Myles had a look of amusement etched into his features at the sight in front of him. I guess my misery brought him great pleasure, but I wouldn’t expect anything less—not from him.
“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” I grumbled, not quite ready to start the day yet.
The guys knew I drank, smoked, and occasionally did drugs, but now that they were in here, it was evident how bad my habits have gotten more recently. Empty bottles littered the floor and bedside table, my weed stash was out in the open and unkempt, there were three bottles of unprescribed narcotics on the table nearest to me, and my room hadn’t been cleaned in who knows how long.
“We haven’t heard from you all morning,” Foster said with an edge to his tone. “Figured you’d at least want to get some lunch.” His gaze drifted from me and did another sweep around my room, the disgusted look becoming more prominent as he took everything in.
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. “Yeah,” I muttered.
“What the hell has gotten into you lately?” he continued, pinning his blue eyes back on me. I knew that was coming. Foster didn’t have a filter and said whatever was on his mind, regardless of what it was. He was still his annoying, judgmental self.
Forcing a laugh in an attempt to lighten the situation, I shrugged. “Been partying too hard lately, I guess. Maybe I should dial it back.” Hopefully that would be enough to get him off my back. They didn’t need to know the real reason for my sudden change in behavior.
If I told Foster that my mind was all fucked because of what we did to Raven and Aspen, he’d put me under a microscope like he was doing to Collin. That was a headache I didn’t need to deal with. He always had to be in control of everything, regardless of how small it might have been.
“That’s all it is?” he inquired with an arched brow. “You’ve been partying too hard? Conveniently right after Raven and Aspen were killed?”
“I’ve always drank and did drugs.” I scoffed, annoyed by his skepticism. It was my life, and he wasn’t my goddamn father.
Myles ran his hands through his midnight-colored hair. “It’s probably just a coincidence, man. Let it go.” When Foster’s gaze zeroed in on me, his eyes narrowing, Myles shot me a wink that had my heart palpitating. I wasn’t sure why he covered for me when he apparently knew the truth, but I was thankful for it.
Blowing out a breath, Foster nodded. “Yeah. A coincidence,” he muttered. “This shit with Collin has me on edge.”
“Collin will be fine,” I assured him. “He might be an extremely emotional person, but he isn’t stupid. He’ll do what he has to.”
I think we were all suffering in different ways. Foster had grown angrier and more reserved, keeping to himself a lot more often than usual, Collin stopped eating and started moping around a lot, Myles seemed to be his same old self, but something was off about him. I just couldn’t place it. Then there was me. I’d taken a page out of my mom’s handbook and resorted to drugs and alcohol. Myles had some weird obsession with Aspen that I didn’t understand. I’d never seen him get like that about anyone before. Foster probably just didn’t want to get locked up. And Collin really liked her and never did well with murder to begin with.
“Hunter’s right,” Myles stated, patting Foster on the back of his shoulder. “Let’s table this for later. If something happens, then we’ll address the issue. In the meantime, let’s get some food.”
I nodded in agreement with that, despite the pep-talk not being meant for me and climbed out of bed, planting my feet against the floor. I probably reeked of alcohol but knew there wouldn’t be time to take a shower. So instead, I changed into a T-shirt and sweats, paired with a black jacket and then slipped on my tennis shoes. Running a brush through my hair, I sprayed on my favorite cologne to help mask the scent of last night’s shenanigans.
“Where’s Collin?” I asked once we stepped out into the hall.
Foster sighed. “No clue. He wasn’t in the cafeteria or his room. I think he’s having some kind of psychotic break.”
It was really unlike Collin to just disappear like that. He was the only one of us who had always been easily accessible. Worry painted my insides. I knew he was having a hard time but didn’t know what to do about it. Talking about this shit wouldn’t do anyone any good. What’s done was done and nothing would change that.
“Have you tried texting him?”
“Yep, and calling. I think he has his phone turned off.”
My mind spun as we made our way outside into the chilly, November air. Things were off with us. It felt like we were falling apart, headed directly into a downward spiral. Usually when we did questionable things that the average mind couldn’t handle, it brought us closer. This time was different.
Once we reached the cafeteria and grabbed our trays, we all sat around the table in silence. Collin was usually the one to start up a conversation. Without him, it was just…boring.
My gaze drifted to the table across the room, only to lock eyes with the one person I’ve been trying to avoid since everything went to shit. Gia’s gaze narrowed and her upper lip curled into a sneer.
She knows. And it would only be a matter of time before she either told someone, or before she got in our way. Neither of those things would bode well, and I was afraid of what might happen if she pissed off Foster or Myles. Two disappearances back-to-back already raised flags, but if that became three, we’d probably have the FBI breathing down our necks.
I’d been so focused on Gia, that I hadn’t even noticed when Jessica strode up to our table. My eyes met hers, and defeat flooded through me. One thing that this whole fucked up situation has taught me, was that I didn’t want Jessica anymore. She’d been a nice distraction, and I felt a little bad for hurting her, but no part of me missed what we had.
“Hey,” she greeted in a small voice, bringing even more attention to the fact that this was about to be an awkward conversation. “Can we talk for a minute?”
I dropped my gaze to my uneaten food and sighed. “Yeah. Come to my room around three,” I offered. That should give me enough time to clean up and shower before the fight tonight and before she showed up.
“Oh okay, sure.” She forced a smile before turning her back and making her way over to her group of friends.
Picking up my cheeseburger, I took my first bite. The meat tasted plain and dry—a side-effect of coming down, but if I didn’t eat, I’d feel sick all day. Forcing myself to swallow, I took a swig of my Gatorade to help wash it down.
“You’re not going to get back together with her, are you?” Foster questioned, raising an accusing eyebrow. I knew he didn’t like Jess, so his opinion was completely biased, but I had no interest in continuing that toxic cycle.
“No. Might fuck her though.” I smirked. “God knows I need something to ease this tension.”
Myles laughed. “Can I play with her when you’re done?” An evil glint sparkled within his eyes, telling me that fucking her was the last thing on his mind. A shiver wracked my body at the thought of handing her to him on a silver platter. Luckily, Foster answered for me.
“No dickwad, we have to keep a low profile for now.”
Myles scoffed, rolling his eyes as if that was the least of his worries. I questioned the way his mind worked. All he seemed to think about was violence and pain. Sometimes, I found myself thinking about it too. The way it felt to have Aspen at my mercy was like a rush no drug has ever been able to grant me. The way it felt, knowing I’d been the one to break her. I wanted her back, just so I could do it all over again—minus the killing part.
My hands flexed beneath the table as my mind haunted me with flashbacks from that night. She’d been so beautiful covered in blood, and when she begged….
Fuck.
My dick hardened at the memory. That’s probably been the first time it’s gotten hard in over two weeks. Then again, I haven’t really messed with it much.
After lunch, the first thing I did was shower. The water warmed my skin, painting my flesh red. Tilting my head back, I allowed it to cascade down every inch of my body. After finishing up, I dried off and got dressed with a couple hours to spare. Knowing Jess, she’d probably show up early, so if I wanted to clean before she got here then the time to do it was now.
Grabbing a trash bag, I got to work. I placed all the empty bottles and trash in it, organized my weed stash onto a tray and placed it on the top shelf of my closet. I hid the bottles of pills in my sock drawer and placed the unfinished bottles of alcohol in my closet as well, closing the door behind me.
The room still wasn’t perfect, but it looked like a normal room now. As if right on cue, a knock sounded at my bedroom door, sending tension coiling around my muscles.
Might as well get this shit over with.
Striding across the room, I opened the door. Jessica’s flowery-scented perfume immediately ambushed me as she looked up at me with a sense of longing. Unfortunately, the only thing this girl had going for her was her looks, and eventually, that would fade, and she’d be left with nothing aside from a shitty attitude.
“Come in,” I offered, stepping away from the door so she had room to enter.
With no sign of hesitation, she entered, pulling the door closed behind her. Jessica’s gaze tracked around my room as if she hadn’t seen it in months, when in reality, it hadn’t been that long at all.
I drifted over to the bed and sat on the edge, motioning for her to join me. Slowly, she took the invitation, leaving a mere foot of space between us.
“You wanted to talk,” I reminded her.
She nodded and shifted her body toward me so that we were facing each other. “The truth is…I think I overreacted.” My eyebrows rose into my hairline. That had been the last thing I expected her to say. “It was just a shock, you know? I should have been willing to hear you out rather than just believing that slut. Now that she’s missing, she can’t come between us again, and I miss you, Hunter.”
I was silent for a few moments, trying to process everything she just said. In other words, she kept her distance from me because in her mind, I couldn’t be trusted around Aspen.
“What do you miss exactly?” I challenged, quirking an eyebrow. “Controlling me? Bullying girls who I glance at for a millisecond? Being my arm candy? What the fuck do you miss about us? Because from where I’m sitting, we never had much to begin with.”
Jessica’s lips parted in shock, pain slicing through her from the harshness of my words. They weren’t intended to hurt her, but it was true. We might have gotten along at one point, but things changed drastically since then. I couldn’t even remember what it felt like to actually be happy with her.
“Are you saying that what we had wasn’t special?” she countered. “You don’t miss me at all?”
All thoughts about fucking her vanished. I needed to rip it off like a band aid. It might have taken me a while, but I’ve finally outgrown her. I didn’t want to be controlled anymore, and the fights were ridiculous, having an ever-lasting effect on my mental health.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m sorry, Jess.”
Abruptly, she stood. Her eyes were glazed over with unshed tears and her lightly baked skin appeared flushed from either anger, sadness, or a mixture of both. For once, I couldn’t find it in me to give a shit either way. I was emotionally spent and just wanted to relax before the fight later. After that, I planned on drowning myself in alcohol and drugs again. It seemed to be my only escape lately.
“You’re seeing someone else already, aren’t you?” she demanded, her voice cracking at the end.
I rolled my eyes. “No. I just haven’t been happy with you in a long time. Everyone seemed to notice it except for you. That’s part of the problem.”
A huff blew out through her parted lips. I didn’t know what would happen when me and her inevitably had a conversation. I knew that dating her was out of the question, but I was kind of just going with the flow. She was a headache I didn’t need right now.
Finally, her face contorted with white, hot rage as she leered over me. “You’ll regret breaking up with me,” she hissed. Turning on her heels, she stormed out of the room, leaving me to my thoughts.
Technically, she broke up with me. I just refused to take her back. There was only so much a person could take.
My limbs were sore from the lack of exercise they’d endured. My chest heaved due to the adrenaline still pumping through me and sweat coated my skin as if I’d been doused in water. Despite my horrible shape, I still managed to win the fight.
The crowd was still cheering, hungry for blood as I made it back to my seat, settling in between Collin and Myles. The bastard still hasn’t fessed up to where he’s been all day, but at least he was here now.
I nudged Collin with my elbow, causing him to turn his head in my direction. “Where have you been?” I queried. We’ve already asked him this at least three times since we found him here, he was vague with every response he gave.
Guilt twisted his features, and he parted his lips to speak, but before he could, his name was called through the speakers. He snapped his head toward the arena, tension careening up his spine. Rolling his shoulders, he stood.
Collin looked like absolute shit; I was surprised he even decided to show up. Dark circles painted his eyes, his skin was pale, his hair was a mess, and he walked like it physically pained him.
Grabbing him by the wrist, he stumbled a little before regaining his balance. “I can’t let you go out there like this,” I hissed. “You’re unwell.” If he went out there looking the way he did right now, he’d be laid out flat in two minutes. Maybe less.
“I’m fine.” He attempted to jerk his arm from my hold, but it was useless. He was way too weak, proving my point. I arched an accusing eyebrow which just seemed to annoy him further. “If I want to go out there, let me,” he snapped back. “I don’t need you or Foster mothering me.”
My gaze slid over to Foster. His jaw was clenched but when his eyes met mine, he gave me a slight nod. Sighing, I released Collin and watched with bated breath as he approached the arena and slid through the ropes sloppily, not having an ounce of balance in him. This wasn’t going to end well. Especially since he was up against Rocky of all fucking people.
They both stood in front of their chosen corners. Collin already looked defeated and by the evil look on Rocky’s face, it looked like he didn’t give a shit.
When the whistle blew, Rocky was the first to move. Soon, they were dancing around the box, baiting each other. My gaze zeroed in on Barlow’s mouth, but I couldn’t make out shit he was saying. My anxiety was skyrocketing as I watched the scene unfold. On a good day, Collin was a decent fighter. Rocky was better. This, however, would not be one of Collin’s good days. He was going to lose; the question was, how badly?
When Rocky got close enough, Collin punched him in the arm. Even from here, it looked like a weak hit. Groaning, I let my head fall back, not wanting to watch this play out. Unfortunately, I had to.
“We shouldn’t have let him do this,” I snapped, looking over at Foster. “He’s going to end up in the hospital.”
Foster nodded. “He’s doing this on purpose. He wants to lose.” Inclining his head to the fight, I took the invitation and looked once more.
This time, I paid special attention to Collin’s movements and realized Foster was right. He was toying with him, trying to piss him off enough to beat his ass. My hands clenched into fists within my lap and my breath hollowed out when Rocky finally hit him with an uppercut. Blood went flying through the air as Collin fell back against the rope, a manic laugh tumbling from his lips.
Rocky didn’t stop there. The southern asshole cornered him, sending punch after punch to Collin’s face and ribs at an immeasurable speed. Collin didn’t fight back, not once; he just took it.
Whatever had been said to Rocky, must have really gotten under his skin because I don’t think I’d ever seen him this merciless before. With one final punch to the face, my best friend collapsed, not moving a muscle. Blood stained the floor he was sprawled out on, and panic seized me as Monroe rushed to check for major injuries.
Within minutes, Collin was being hauled out of the building on a stretcher, making it harder to breathe.