Chapter 12 #2
“Not the first time I’ve heard that one, buddy,” I mutter. The weird girl with the weird name. “My grandma called me Sloany because she thought the same,” I share, feeling a pang in my chest.
I miss her so much.
“Yes, that fits better,” he tells me, nodding and making his blond hair shake.
“What is your name?” I ask again, my gaze flicking to the woman in the back. She looks horrible, pale with blue lips, but her gaze is soft and just on him. I can feel the longing and concern in her.
His mom.
“Lio,” he states before he scrambles onto the couch beside me with a toy boat. It looks like the one I was just locked inside of, and I shudder when he starts to wave it like it’s on an ocean. “Do you like dinosaurs?”
“Sure. I mean, who doesn’t” I answer stiffly, leaning over to glance at the kitchen, hoping I won’t be alone with him too long.
I’m not good with kids.
Not because I don’t like them, I just never had any around me. Not even when I was a kid myself.
“Lio, are you bugging our guest?” my savior asks as he comes back into the living room with a tray with three mugs and some cookies, which he places on the coffee table.
“No,” Lio mumbles, making motor sounds while concentrating on his boat.
“I made hot chocolate. I thought it suits the situation better and may give you a little sugar rush to help with the trembling,” Hunt murmurs gently as he hands me a mug.
The mug is warm but not too hot, and there are marshmallows swimming on top of the chocolate.
“It’s drink warm,” he tells me when he takes the boat out of Lio’s hand and gives him his mug before he sits on Lio’s other side, seemingly giving me space.
I take a sip and have to stifle a moan. “Gosh, that’s good. Thank you.”
It’s sugary sweet, bordering on too much but not quite, and the warm liquid fills and soothes my insides. It’s as though it washes away the fear still clinging to my bones.
The side of his mouth turns slightly upward, and he looks down into his mug. “Glad you like it. So, how did you end up in there? Wanna share with the class?” he asks, his blue gaze coming up to meet mine again.
I turn bright red, holding my mug with both hands and whispering, “I swear I was not out to steal anything.”
He breathes out a wry laugh. “Honestly, if you could manage to steal that boat out of the shipyard by yourself, I would let you keep it.” I can’t help the small smile that forms on my lips. “But if not stealing, what were you planning to do?”
“I can’t really tell you,” I mumble, feeling the guilt creeping up.
He has been nothing but nice to me, and I can’t even give him an answer in return. He furrows his brows at me, and I have to look away.
I’m not going to tell him what I did there.
Not in a million years.
It’s bad enough that I talk to his dead brother and could get caught doing that. If he thinks he has to call the cops on me, okay. I can handle being considered a criminal, paying a fine, or going to jail.
I can’t handle people thinking that I’m crazy, though.
“Did you do anything that could harm anyone? Did you play around with the motor parts?” he asks, leaning forward and searching my face as if to find the answer.
I look at him earnestly. “I didn’t have ill intentions and did nothing to manipulate the boat.”
He looks at me for a few seconds longer, making me squirm under his intense gaze, then nods slowly. “Fine.” That’s all he says before he takes a sip of his chocolate and leans back on the couch.
My eyes go wide. “Fine? You’re just going to let me get away with that?”
As soon as it slips out of my mouth, I curse myself.
Dammit, Sloan. Take the offer being presented on a gold platter.
“Shouldn’t I?” he asks right back, curiosity in his eyes.
“You should,” I whisper and take another sip. I have no idea why, but I trust that he wants to believe me. The same as I want to believe that he will let me out of this that easily. Seems like we are stuck in a dangerous trust circle here.
The silence spreads, but then Lio has a coughing fit. Hunt retrieves the mug from his small hands and sets it down on the table with his own before he gets up.
“Did you swallow the wrong way?” I ask Lio, rubbing his back, concerned when he doesn’t stop coughing.
Hunt returns with an inhaler held in a short, clear tube and places the mouthpiece at the end of the tube to Lio’s lips. “Deep breath, bud,” he tells him softly.
I look up in time to see the dead woman rushing over to us.
She doesn’t walk. It’s more like she’s hovering.
She stands directly behind Hunt, watching him with concern as he takes care of Lio.
She notices me watching her, and her head turns quickly in my direction.
She tilts her head and opens her mouth, but only water spills from her lips again.
Chills run down my arms and neck. I know she’s not evil, but goddamn, she’s fucking creepy.
I finally manage to pull my gaze away from hers and see that Lio is breathing deeply while Hunt is stroking his blond hair. “Better?” Hunt asks in a gentle tone, and Lio nods. “He has severe asthma,” Hunt shares, answering a question I hadn’t asked out loud but was wondering.
“That shit sucks.” I look at Lio with furrowed brows, who nods wholeheartedly.
“It sucks big time,” he agrees, panting.
Hunter exhales a burst of laughter. “Could you please not swear in front of the five-year-old? You muttered enough F-words in the car. I’ll hear them all week.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I exclaim and slap my hand over my mouth when I realize what I just did, making him bark out a laugh with his head thrown back. I cringe hard.
“Sloany can say the f-word. She’s an adult, like daddy,” Lio says, coming to my rescue.
I have to stifle a laugh. “Thank you, Lio, that is, in fact, right.” I nod, taking the last sip from my mug before I set it down.
“Sloany?” Hunt looks at me, his gaze flicking between my eyes. “That’s your name?”
“I’m Sloan, yes. Thank you for the hot chocolate, the rescue, and… everything,” I tell him, standing and rubbing my naked arms. It’s quite cold here without my jacket, even though the chocolate did warm me up.
Hunt stands too, stepping back and grabbing my jacket, which was laying over the back of the armchair next to us, handing it to me. I take it and put it on, ensuring my phone and keys are still in my pockets.
“Thank you,” I whisper when my gaze finds his again. He’s already watching me.
I feel something stir in my chest, but I shove it back as fast as it appeared.
“It was nice to meet you, Sloan,” Hunt tells me with a glimmer of something in his eyes.
“It was very nice to meet you too…” I trail off, unsure if he or Saylor told me his name earlier.
“I’m Hunter,” he offers, smiling at me.
Saylor then. Good call, Sloan.
“Should I drive you anywhere?” he asks while he walks behind me to the front door.
“I can walk, but thank you again, Hunter,” I reassure him when I turn to catch his gaze.
What must he think of me?
The need to put distance between myself and this strangely intimate moment is pressing in.
To stay any longer would be to acknowledge the bond that my fear has somehow forged between us, and I’m not ready for that.
Not when my life is a carefully balanced act, and he’s an unexpected weight on one side.
“Anytime,” he answers, opening the door for me, and the word seems to echo, promising more than just a ride—a willingness to step into the chaos of my life.
But that wouldn’t be fair.
To him or me.