Chapter 28 Hunter
TWENTY-EIGHT
HUNTER
Me
Am I seeing you today, angel?
Max the Angel
As soon as I’m finished with work. I know your next five days are going to be so busy, you’ll barely have time to answer my text messages. Almost Halloween!
Me
I’ll always have time for your text messages. I clearly value you more than my job, if me finger fucking you in the haunted house tells you anything.
Max the Angel
Always so depraved.
Thank you for the flowers, by the way.
*Attachment: 1 image*
I stare at the picture that comes through and frown at the bouquet sitting on her kitchen table. I didn’t send her flowers, but someone else fucking did, and I don’t like that one fucking bit.
I hit her name on my phone, wanting to call her instead of asking what’s going on over text. I wait for her to answer, doing a lap around the living room while I run a hand through my hair.
A secret admirer?
A colleague congratulating her for an accomplishment at work?
Someone flirting with some a woman that isn’t theirs?
I grind my teeth together, relieved when she finally picks up.
“Hey,” Max says, out of breath. “Sorry. I’m changing laundry over. If you ever feel like washing all my dirty clothes and folding them nice and neat for me again, I wouldn’t be upset.”
“Noted. I love doing chores. Hey, listen, sweetheart. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I didn’t send you those flowers. Was there a note?”
“You didn’t? Hang on.” There’s rustling on her end, and a muffled noise. “Let’s see. There’s a card that says I miss you. Are you sure you didn’t send those?”
“Positive, but now I’m going to make up for it with an even bigger bouquet. Who do you think they’re from?”
“I’m not sure. There’s—hang on. What the fuck?”
“What’s wrong?” My spine straightens. I’m already reaching for my knife and moving toward the door, ready to head to her house. “Max?”
“Sorry.” She laughs and I relax, setting the knife on the coffee table next to a water bottle. “They’re from Brian. I wonder if it’s an old delivery that got lost in the system.”
“He sent you I miss you flowers?” I pick up my knife again, disappointed this mother fucker hasn’t gotten the hint. I guess I didn’t make myself clear during our bathroom run-in. “When did the delivery come?”
“Sometime while I was at school. They’re beautiful, and I feel bad throwing them away. But I don’t want to look at something someone I hate sent me.” Max sighs. “Is there a flower burial ground anywhere?”
“You don’t want them?”
“God, no. Any suggestions?”
“Yeah, actually. I’ll pick you up in fifteen. You’re taking the bike for the first time, sweetheart.”
“I get to be a backpack?” she asks, and I put her on speakerphone so I can flip over to the camera of her bedroom. I smile when I see her sitting on her bed, a hand over her chest.
“You know what a backpack is? I’m impressed.”
“Only because I’ve been watching videos in anticipation of this moment. You’ve done so many things for me that I wanted to try, and I want to do the same with you.” She heaves a deep breath. “Hunter Wilder. I will ride on the back of your motorcycle.”
“Fuck, baby. I’m so excited. I promise I’ll go slow. We’ll take the backroads, and I’ll keep you safe the whole time.”
“I know you will. Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“It’s a surprise, but I think it’s time for you to meet the most important person in my life.”
“Oh, no. Am I the other woman? You have a wife and kids, don’t you?”
“The only person I want to knock up is you,” I say, watching her roll onto her stomach and cradle her chin in her palm. “If you want kids, of course.”
“I’m open to the discussion of children.” Max grins. “I’ll see you soon, biker boy.”
“I can’t wait, angel.”
Twenty minutes and a lesson on how to ride on the back of a motorcycle later, Max has her arms wrapped around my waist. Her laugh is loud in the headset I had installed in our helmets so she can communicate with me, and she briefly lets go so she can draw hills in the wind.
“Doing okay?” I ask, and I feel her nod against my back.
“This is so invigorating. I feel free. Like I could fly!”
“That was my exact reaction the first time I got on a bike. It’s dangerous. Soon you’ll want one of your own, and we’ll spend every weekend riding across the state.”
“I’m so onboard. I thought having my head confined would make me feel claustrophobic, but being able to talk to you helps. Seriously, Hunter. This is so much fun.”
“I’ll take you on another ride again soon.”
I squeeze her thigh and pull into the entrance to our destination.
Shifting the speed, I slow my bike to a crawl, passing rows of graves until I find one near the back and kill the ignition.
I throw the kickstand down and jump off, holding out a hand for Max.
When her feet are firmly planted on the ground, I unbuckle her helmet and slide it over her head.
“You’re going to have to explain why we’re in a cemetery,” she says. “This feels like the start of a horror movie.”
“In broad daylight? Really?” I reach behind her, grabbing the flowers from the storage pack attached to the back of the bike. “We’re visiting my mom.”
“What?” Max whispers, tugging on my arm. “Your mom is—”
“She died when I was twenty-four. At the hands of my abusive, drunk father.”
“Oh, Hunter.” She stands on her toes and kisses my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve made peace with it now, but I try and get out here once a month to see her. Haven’t had the chance lately with Fright Nights being so busy, so I wanted to make the trip.”
“Will you tell me about her?”
I smile and take off my helmet, resting it on the back seat of the bike.
I reach for Max’s hand and slides our fingers together, the perfect fit.
“She was my best friend. We did everything together. She was the one who taught me how to ride. Bought me my first motorcycle.” I laugh thinking about the present in the driveway on Christmas Day with the big red bow on it.
The drives we’d take out to the beach for the afternoon, sitting in the sand and watching the ocean waves.
“She had this vivacious energy about her. Never backed down from a fight. Always found the good in people. It’s why she kept letting my dad back in.
She believed him when he said he changed. ”
The first time she kicked him out, I was eleven. He hit her during an argument about money, and when I intervened, he threw me against the wall. That sent him packing with a ticket to rehab and signed divorce papers. Six months later, after he said he was clean, he was living with us again.
For a while, it was fine. There were birthdays and Christmases we all celebrated together, the picture of a perfect family.
But the thing about abusers is you can’t fix them.
They can’t stay perfect forever, and, eventually, they break.
They crave the high hurting someone smaller than them brings, and I saw the bruises on my mom’s arm.
I heard them fighting from my bedroom, the yelling I tried to block out with headphones but never could.
The back and forth went on for years. He’d leave, then reappear. Mom reassured me that this time would be different. It never was. It’s why I stuck around the house for so long, putting up with the jokes from my friends at work who told me I was too old to be living at home.
I did everything I could to protect her, but in the end, I couldn’t.
Not when he set the fucking house on fire with her inside.
He was the first person I murdered.
A baseball bat to the skull in the middle of the night, and I made sure he knew it was me who did it.
There are times I wish I hadn’t killed him so I could keep him alive years later, torturing him like he tortured my mom until her last breath.
“That must have been hard for you,” Max says, and I blink. I let out a rage-filled breath, relaxing when she rests her head on my arm. “To see that unfolding and not be able to do anything about it.”
“It was the hardest part of my life. I’d do anything to bring her back.” I pause, leading her over to her headstone. “It’s why I started doing what I do.”
“Killing?” she whispers, like someone is listening to us, and I chuckle.
“Yeah, angel. Killing. My father paid for what he did, but so many pieces of shit get away with things they shouldn’t. After seeing what Mom endured, I vowed to protect all the women out there who haven’t found justice. They shouldn’t have to live in fear while these fuckers live freely.”
“I didn’t understand it at first, but I really get it now. You don’t kill because you’re dark and evil. You kill to get rid of the dark and the evil. To bring good to the world. You’re the light people need, Hunter.”
“I’d never harm someone who was innocent. And I recognize we all make mistakes. Some people just make too many mistakes, and you can only forgive so many times.”
“Do you mind if…” Max trails off, gesturing between the flowers and my mom’s grave.
“Please.” I hand her the flowers and give her elbow a gentle tap. “Thank you.”
She steps forward and brushes the leaves off the tombstone before kneeling in the grass. Max gets rid of the twine holding the stems together and tucks it in her pocket. Propping the flowers up, she traces each letter in Mom’s name before sitting back on her heels.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Katherine. I’m Maxine. Max for short. I’ve been spending time with Hunter, and I want you to know you have a wonderful son.”
My heart skips a beat when she says that, and I know there’s no doubt in my mind I’m going to marry this woman. There will be a ring on her finger sooner rather than later, and I can’t wait to give her my last name.
Or take hers, if that’s what she wants.
“Mom would’ve liked you because you can put me in my place,” I say, and Max grins at me over her shoulder. “She loved headstrong women. Women who could do things by themselves, but had no problem asking for help if they needed it. That fits you to a tee.”
“I bet I’d like her too.” She fixes the flower arrangement and nods her approval at the tulips and sunflowers. “I’m sorry you’re getting secondhand flowers from a shitty douchebag, Katherine. Next time, I’ll bring something I picked out.”
“She would’ve told you he was shitty too.”
We stay there for a while, listening to the leaves rustle above us.
Every few minutes I’ll tell a story about Mom and Max will light up, hanging on to my every word.
She bursts out laughing when I mention the time Mom caught me streaking after a truth or dare game went wrong.
She wipes under her eyes after learning my mom was a teacher too, at a school near hers.
She takes my hand when I let Mom know this is my last Fright Nights, a surprising tear escaping me at how much I’m going to miss it.
It's perfect. Exactly how I imagined them meeting would go. Max doesn’t rush me, even giving me a couple minutes alone with Mom. I spend all of that time talking about Leo and Max, a weight lifting off my chest when I kiss the headstone and stand.
“Thank you,” I say. “For coming with me.”
“Thank you so much for inviting me.” Max loops her arm around my waist. “Is there anyone else you want to visit while we’re here?”
“Nope. Mom is the only resident I know. Unless you feel like poking your head around and trying to summon the Grim Reaper?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t want to disturb the spirits. They’re sleeping peacefully, and I don’t need to pull the Grim Reaper from her very busy schedule.”
“Her, huh?” I pluck a leaf from her hair. “She’s a woman?”
“Please. You think a man is organized enough to handle all the souls in the world? She’s definitely a woman.”
“Whatever you say, angel.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Ready to head out?”
“If you are. When you come back, can I join you?”
“Of course you can.” We walk to the bike hand and hand. Peace like I’ve never experienced settles over me, and I know it’s because she’s by my side. “Have I told you today how much I like you, baby?”
“No.” She smiles and shields her eyes from the sun, looking up at me. “You should remedy that. Immediately.”
“I like you very much.” I cup her cheeks with my palms, staring into her eyes. “I don’t want there to be any doubt.”
“There never is with you. I like you very much too, Hunter. Some days I think I…” Max blushes. “One day.”
“Me too, angel.” I lift her by her hips and set her on the back of the bike, putting her helmet back on. “Me too.”