Chapter 31 Bunny
In my hurry to flee, I make one of the stupidest mistakes I could possibly make.
I go the wrong fucking way.
With how close Hunter is, though, I have no choice but to pray to whoever’s listening that there’s a way out of this alley—a way to escape, even though he undoubtedly recognized me.
You can spin it. This is how you met. Undercover work. Stop running and just fucking spin it, Bunny!
The door crashes open behind me. No hurried shouts. No demands to halt. Just slow, calculating steps.
He knows.
He knows.
He knows.
The words replay in my head like Chopin’s Marche Funèbre.
Faline squirms, and my already-turmoiled insides pitch like a small ship in rogue waves. Cold steals my breath as I reach the chain-link fence that cages me in.
Before, I’d have just climbed it. Now, at twenty-six weeks pregnant, there’s no fucking way.
Spinning, I search frantically for anywhere to hide, even as Hunter draws closer—shrouded in shadows, while the light on the other side of the fence beams down on me like a spotlight.
Here she is! The killer you’ve been looking for!
I focus on my breathing as tears prick my eyes. No matter what I do, I lose. I could try to convince him I was just bored staying home, but he knows better.
Pivoting back to the fence, I try to gauge if I could make it, but he’s already reached me.
“There’s nowhere to go.” Hunter’s amused drawl resonates down the alley.
Flinching, I spin to face him, guarded and unsure what to expect.
“It’s over.” Every step he takes forward, I take one back.
He wouldn’t really hurt me… would he?
Hunter loves me.
And I’m pregnant with his child.
My back hits the fence. The chain rattles behind me like a crescendo to my death march.
Deep chuckles fill the air, and finally, he steps out of the shadows until we’re face to face.
“Time’s up, Little Rabbit. Looks like I’ve finally caught you.”
Dread fills my chest as I think back to the letter taped to my door earlier.
Time’s almost up, little rabbit.
A nervous laugh escapes my throat, surprising us both.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I took on some extra work,” I lie through my teeth. “I was getting sick of just sitting at home while you got to have all the fun.”
Hunter shoves his hands in his pockets, his expression going dark. “Don’t do that, Bunny. Don’t fucking lie to my face.”
“Hunter—”
He stalks forward until his abs press against my bump, reaching above my head to curl his fingers into the fence.
I can feel the heat of his rage pulsing off him in waves, wrapping around me like a warm blanket to stave off the cold midnight air.
Warmth, however, is the last thing that imbues his words.
“There’s a fucking dead man in that room with wounds matching the Siren’s victims.” His voice comes hushed but lethal.
When I drop my gaze, unable to withstand the way he’s looking at me, he grips my chin and forces my face back up.
“So do not fucking lie to me, Little Rabbit. You are damn lucky it’s me here and not someone else.
But your man—Matthew Price? He had a hunch he’d been speaking to the Siren.
He contacted me at the department. I kept that to myself and got here later than I should’ve.
So—do you want to tell me the fucking truth? ”
It’s crazy how fast you can lose everything.
One second is all it takes for your world to come crashing down.
One second where you have to decide what you’re going to do about it.
And in that second, my survival instincts devour the terror until there’s nothing left but a will to survive and crumbs of a lost future.
“You know the truth,” I snarl, jerking my face out of his grip. “So what are you going to do about it, Hunter? Huh? Throw me in prison while I’m pregnant with your kid?”
In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Hunter this angry. His nostrils flare, the chain rattling under the pressure of his grip. His shallow breaths shudder with ire.
“Was it worth it?” The question catches me off guard. Amber glazes over as tears line his lashes, though there’s no ounce of sadness in his eyes, only blazing fury, sharp and pointed directly at me.
Without waiting for a reply, he pushes off the fence and snatches my wrist. Snarling like a feral cat, I claw at him as he drags me down the alley. We pass the club’s side door, and I scratch at his forearms, ready to uncap a heel and injure him to get away if I have to.
“Hunter, let me go!”
I’m not going to prison.
Was it worth it?
No. It wasn’t fucking worth it.
The man I love looks at me with pure disdain. Everything I feared is manifesting at once, as if my dread conjured it into reality.
He’s going to take away my baby.
I’ll be locked up.
I’ll never see her again.
“Hunter, I’m serious, let me go!”
“Shut up, Bunny. I can’t fucking think straight right now, I’m so fucking mad at you.”
“Hey!” a voice calls behind us, halting Hunter mid-step.
As he turns, I wrench my wrist, putting enough force behind it that, in his distracted state, he lets me go.
It happens in slow motion. A metaphorical action that symbolizes the death of our relationship.
Before my heart can interject, my mind makes the decision. Pivoting, I race toward the main street, thankful for the adrenaline rushing through my veins and the confidence I have in myself to not fall flat on my face.
Hunter calls my name behind me, his voice swallowed by the crowd and the gridlocked cars.
Every part of me wants to turn back.
Every instinct screams at me to run.
I can’t stay.
Not now that Hunter knows the truth and will be forced to punish me for my crimes.
Tears blur my vision as I race through the crowded streets. Block by block, I run until traffic thins.
It was always too good to be true. Just when I was finally happy.
You couldn’t just let it go, could you, Bunny?
By trying to save Monica Price, I condemned myself—and my child.
Faline can’t grow up without a mother. She can’t grow up without a father either… but she needs her mother.
She needs me.
When my feet ache and I can’t go anymore, I hail a cab and collapse into the backseat, giving the driver my address.
I have to move quickly. There’s no telling if Hunter is behind me or racing home to intercept me.
A sob tears from my throat, my chest burning from the cold air, my stomach fluttering with Faline’s tiny feet.
“Rough night?” a familiar raspy voice asks.
Choking on another cry, I glance at the rearview mirror—and see the same cabbie who picked me up the night Hunter kissed Dove at The Tipsy Taco. His bushy mustache twitches when our eyes meet.
“You okay, little miss?” His fatherly demeanor invokes a fresh batch of tears.
“I just ruined my entire life. I’m the complete opposite of okay.” Sniffing, I wipe under my eyes, smearing my makeup until black coats my fingers. My face probably looks like a panda, but I couldn’t care less.
“Well, it’s a new year. You know what they say—new year, new you. Whatever you did, I’m sure it’s not that bad. There’s always a way to correct our mistakes.” He coughs into a napkin balled in his hand.
I’m sure he doesn’t mean for me to see, but the bright red flecks on the white tissue are hard to miss. Remorse blankets my lungs like scratchy wool.
Everyone has problems. Mine aren’t worse than anyone else’s.
“What you need is some rest and relaxation. Don’t get yourself too worked up or you’ll stress out the little one,” he continues.
“You’re really kind, you know that, sir?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, little miss. And you can call me Hank.”
Surprisingly, Hunter isn’t blowing up my phone. When we’re close to my house, I pull up Dove’s contact.
“Hank? Could you please wait here? I won’t be long, and I need to go to the airport.”
“Sure thing, little miss.”
He stops his meter. This sweet old man is getting an envelope full of cash when I return.
Yasha and Maru barely lift their heads when I walk in. Guilt pierces my chest as I give them kisses. “Mommy has to go away for a little bit, you guys. Auntie Dove will take care of you. I promise I’ll be back.”
It’s easier while they’re still groggy. If they were their usual excited selves, I don't know that I’d be able to leave.
Dove’s phone rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. Placing it on speaker, I set it next to my suitcase while I pack.
“Hey, Love Dove. I hate to do this, but I have to go away for a little while. The dogs are at my house. Please take care of them while I’m gone.” Emotion clogs my throat, suffocating my words with cloying melancholy.
That’s as far as I get before Dove rings in on the other line. Steadying myself with a shaky inhale, I switch over. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong?” My best friend instantly goes into protective mode, no doubt hearing the waver in my voice. “Buns, what happened?”
“Listen, I need you to come get the dogs.” I grit my teeth, flinging clothes and whatever essential items I have in close range into my suitcase.
“Bunny, what happened?” she presses. Wrenley’s voice echoes faintly behind her.
Sniffling, I admit, “Hunter found out, Dove. He knows.”
“Don’t run,” she orders. “That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Bunny, don’t. Please.” Panic frays her usually bubbly demeanor, souring my friend’s sweet tone. “We can work this out. Just come here, I’ll protect you.”
“I’m not dragging you into this, Dove. It’s bad enough he’ll come looking for me there.” Zipping my suitcase, I head to the safe, grab two pouches, and throw as much cash as I can fit in them. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not having my baby in a cell and then having her ripped away from me.”
Keys jingle on her end as another call beeps in on mine.
Hunter.
“I’m sorry, Dove. I’ll be back for the dogs after Faline is born. After I figure out what I’m going to do.”
“What about me, Bunny?” Her voice cracks. “If this panic is anything like what Hunter felt last time… I can’t—”
Dove is my best friend. My family. Doubt claws at me, but then Faline kicks, as if sensing my distress, reminding me that she’s the only one that matters at the moment.
“I’m sorry. I love you. This isn’t goodbye. Just see you later.”
“Bunny—”
“I have to go.” It takes everything in me to hang up.
As soon as the call disconnects, Hunter’s name flashes across my screen, the photo of him asleep with both dogs curled on his chest stabbing grief through me.
You’re never going to forgive me. And I will hate myself until the end of time for this.
Minutes later, Hank loads my suitcase and we speed toward JFK.
“Which airline, little miss?”
His question jolts me—I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep.
“Um…” I glance at the signs, strangely calm despite having no plan. No idea where to go. “Here is fine, I guess.”
Hank pulls over but doesn’t get out. “It can be hard to stay sensible in the heat of a moment. Sometimes it’s best just to take a few days.
Cool off. I hear Jacksonville is lovely this time of year—not too warm, not too cold.
Not too far away, should you choose to return sooner rather than later.
” He pulls a card out of his visor and hands it back to me.
“When you come back, give me a call. If I’m still around. I’ll come get you.”
“I didn’t think I could cry more tonight, Hank, but thank you. I’m Bunny.” I give him a zippered pouch in exchange. I left my phone behind so Hunter can’t track me, but I’ll get a burner once I land.
“What’s this for?” His caterpillar brows draw together as he looks at the pouch.
“For being kind. Kindness to a stranger in crisis is rare these days.”
Hank gets out slowly, retrieving my suitcase from the trunk before sticking out his hand for me to shake.
He has to balance his weight on the back of the car, and I imagine it might be uncomfortable for him to walk.
Now that I’m truly looking at him, his pallor is gray, and his hair isn’t as thick as it was months ago, when we first met.
If he’s getting treatment for whatever ails him, it must be wreaking havoc on his body.
“It was a pleasure to see you again. You’re a good girl. I’m sure whatever trouble you’re in will work itself out.”
You’re a good girl.
“Oh, Hank. If only you knew the things I’ve done.” Leaving it at that, I grab my bag and turn to go.
I’m halfway to the doors when he calls, “Little miss!”
I glance back. He leans over the top of his car, too weak to stand straight. “Whatever you’re running from, I hope it doesn’t catch up with you.”
Me too, Hank. Me too.