SUN #6
How much trauma have I racked up over the past two months? Can my TM Bond with Ragnar actually heal that?
I take a shy peek at Ragnar’s statuesque profile, his perfectly straight Greek nose.
God, even after the fight, with his face slightly swollen, he’s still beyond sexy.
My eyes shift lower to his muscular neck, strong tendons, and massive shoulders.
He could be my rock, my tree, the canopy I can live beneath and thaw under…
So, on impulse, I do it. Slowly, almost timidly, I turn to the right, toward Ragnar’s bulky shoulder.
I gently rest my head on it, like it really is a solid tree branch I can lean on when I need to.
Right away, I can feel a flicker of surprise from him, like what I’m doing doesn’t quite line up with who he thinks I am, but then again, like he said, we don’t really know each other outside of The Sun.
Maybe it’s time to start finding that old version of Sun again?
The one who wasn’t always bitter. Always angry. Constantly fighting the emptiness and the dread of another shitty day. Maybe now, finally, there’s a new Sun rising in me. Pun intended.
Again, I sneak another look at him without lifting my cheek from his shoulder. God, this feels so new. And kind of… exciting.
About ten minutes later, Summer stirs. He makes a small gesture with his hand, and Ragnar carefully helps him settle down next to us.
Very slowly, Summer straightens up, wipes his face, rubs his eyes, and runs his fingers through his hair. I can tell he’s still struggling just to sit upright, but he’s fighting to stay present.
"How are you feeling?" Ragnar asks softly.
Summer doesn’t answer. He’s staring at the ground. He seems kind of here, and kind of gone at the same time.
"I’m taking you somewhere safe," Ragnar whispers. I can see the tenderness in his eyes when he looks at his brother, and it somehow makes me happy. Ragnar cares about the people close to him, and I find it really attractive. It’s a side of him I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate even just two months ago.
We both watch Summer in silence. This poor guy went through a lot: kidnapped, forced to marry Anzo, forced into weird sex despite having no prior experience, beaten and electrocuted. He deserves happiness and—
Suddenly I feel Ragnar’s hand move across the log, and a second later, his fingers gently lace with mine.
First I reached for him, snuggling up a little. Now he’s reaching back.
It’s like we’re both trying to find our footing in whatever this is between us.
I know he’s never been in a relationship before. And I kind of forgot about the only real one I’ve ever had. So neither of us really knows what we’re doing. But somehow, I feel oddly optimistic.
We sit like that for another ten minutes. But even just the contact of his skin against mine brings this strange sense of peace bubbling up inside me. It grounds me.
I glance at him. He glances back. Then he gives me a quick wink.
And yeah. Good!
That’s the only way to make it through all this without losing your mind. Stay light, keep the humor, don’t drown.
Soon, an SUV approaches. I don’t recognize it. It’s not Hunter’s. I think it belonged to his late husband. I vaguely remember it from one of their visits.
The car slows down, stops. A few seconds later, the door opens, and there he is. Hunter.
I’m stunned by how different my cousin looks compared to the last time I saw him, at his husband’s funeral.
He’s paler. Thinner. Like grief’s been gnawing at him for months, and now some kind of illness has taken hold.
Even though he’s always had that classic Nolan handsomeness, masculine, sharp-edged, commanding, something about him now feels muted.
Like someone drained all the color from his world and covered him in ash.
And maybe that’s exactly what happened? Hunter and Olaf were nearly a perfect match.
Losing something like that… maybe most people don’t come back from it.
When he sees me, his face barely moves. Possibly, he tries to smile, but doesn’t quite get there. Like his expression is frozen into a mask.
"I’m glad you’re in one piece, Sun," he says, giving my shoulder a light slap but skipping the hug. "Seriously. Can’t believe you guys actually made it out."
It sounds like he really didn’t think there was any chance in hell we’d escape from that mafia psycho, like he’d already quietly written me off; I can’t blame him.
"Yeah, well. A real miracle. And some teamwork," I say dryly.
Hunter glances at Summer, who doesn’t react to him at all. Still staring at the ground.
Ragnar jumps in and gives him a quick summary of what’s happened.
Hunter listens, nodding slowly. His eyes stay distant. His face is oddly stiff, unreadable. Then he waves a hand.
"It’s a lot, guys. I’m relieved you made it. But get in the car. We can’t stay this close to the fortress. The FBI might still be sweeping the area."
"Totally agree," Ragnar says, helping Summer to his feet.
Hunter opens the passenger door.
"You got a plan? Somewhere you’re heading?" He taps the roof lightly. "This car belonged to my husband. You can borrow it. Just drop me off near the highway, and I’ll call an Uber."
Ragnar raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised, but nods. He folds himself into the car, helps Summer in, and I slide into the seat beside the driver.
"By the way, your bike’s ready to go. If you want it, just text me and I’ll bring it to you."
"Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver!"
"Don’t mention it. You should focus on getting better now, after the madhouse you’ve been through. And… Your folks at home are going to be pretty shocked when they hear what happened."
Ragnar, still looking a little thrown, says,
"That’s where we're heading. You sure you don’t want to come with us?"
"I’d just be the third wheel," Hunter cuts in flatly. "With everything going on in your family, the last thing you need is me and my depressing energy." His tone is bitter, but his face stays rigid.
"You sure? I’m pretty positive my parents would be glad to see you," I offer, more out of politeness than conviction.
Hunter nods. "I’ve got a two-day work trip. Military consulting. And this weekend, your brother Storm begged me to show up at one of those marriage contract fairs." His tone shifts, half sarcastic, borderline mocking.
I raise an eyebrow. "Wait, rewind, a marriage contract fair?"
Hunter starts the car.
We drive off slowly, passing the side street that leads to The Sun fortress. Just seeing it sends a shiver down my spine.
I quickly turn my head and focus on Hunter.
"Yeah. That agency that’s gotten all that attention lately because of the assassination attempt on Blue Lowen… Storm’s working there again. And he’s convinced my True Mate is going to show up at the fair."
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. My own laugh sounds strange in my ears, like it doesn’t quite belong to me. It’s been so long since something just felt funny. Even if it’s dark humor.
"You’re serious? Come on, you know Storm. He loves messing with people. He’s probably just trying to get you out of the house. That’s totally his style," I say, smirking.
Hunter shrugs. "Maybe. But he made me promise. Says he’s got hard data or whatever. So once I’m back from my trip, I’ll go. I’ve got time anyway. Why not? Never been to one of those things."
Wow. Did not expect that. I stare for a second at his chiseled, stone-like profile.
"Yeah, me neither. Sounds awful. Marriage contracts? People stuck in little glass booths while others gawk at them like cattle and make their pick…"
"No argument there. Doesn’t sound great. But still, I’ve got nothing else going on, so I’ll give it a shot."
"I’m pretty curious if he’s right. He’s a big rascal and he’s known for setting people up in weird pranks. Let us know what happens."
Hunter doesn’t respond. He just eases off the gas as we near the main state road.
He glances at Ragnar.
"I’m dropping you off here. I’ll grab an Uber. You’ve got about a two-hour drive ahead." He gestures toward the turnoff where he’s slowing down.
"And good luck. I’m really happy you made it out. From what you said, Anzo Ferro’s got bigger problems now than chasing you down for revenge. Hope it stays that way."
"Oh, definitely," I say. "He messed with someone way bigger than him and… well, he lost. Guess the predator met his match."
Hunter lets out a dry laugh.
"Yeah. Dabbling in ideology is almost more dangerous than just running brothels and trafficking drugs." Then he waves it off. "Anyway. I'm glad it’s over."
"Yeah," I reply quickly. "And good luck at that marriage contract fair."
Hunter glances at Ragnar, then at Summer.
"Take care, both of you. And I really hope you manage to sort things out. After everything, you probably need a serious vacation."
Then he parks and climbs out of the car.
Ragnar immediately slides into the driver’s seat, gives Hunter a wave, and pulls away.
I wave too, watching through the window as Hunter’s figure shrinks behind us.
He looks smaller somehow. Bent over. Older. Like something heavy’s settled on him. I really do hope life still has something good in store for him.
Moments later, we’re merging onto the state highway, heading toward my parents’ place, about a hundred miles out.
Only as the miles tick by on the dash do I start to believe this is actually real.
Like really-real.
I’m finally leaving hell behind.
And from here on out, the only way is up.