Chapter 32 #3
“The sea was horrific. I was thrown around like I was in a washing machine, and I nearly drowned.” The shadows of trauma and lingering fear are in Hunter’s eyes as he recounts the terrifying experience.
“But then I touched the wire rope that was secured on Saylor. I wanted to use it to tether myself to him, but I needed both hands to swim and keep myself above water, so I wrapped it around my leg to make sure I would not lose it.” He lets out a dry, humorless laugh.
“Worst idea of my life. I found Saylor unconscious, drifting around in the water, getting washed over by the waves. I managed to get to him, put my arm under his, and keep him afloat. North gave his all to get us back on deck on his own, nearly getting washed over the railing himself in the process. All of this while the storm got worse by the minute…” Hunter pauses, sitting up straight and taking a few deep breaths.
“I would have never jumped if I had known what it would cost you,” Saylor shares, his voice barely audible, but the pain in his expression is loud.
He feels guilty.
More than guilty.
He thinks he ruined Hunter’s life.
But why?
After a moment of silence, Hunter starts to speak again, but his tone is neutral as if he pushed his feelings on the matter away from him.
“It took us too long. We took too long to save Saylor, and we took too long with the rope pulled tightly around my leg. North somehow got us back to the harbor, all while I tried to do all I could to do CPR on Saylor, and all while the blood flow in my leg was cut off by the rope that was still around it because none of us thought about that little fact while fighting for our lives. My arms and legs were so cold, I couldn’t feel them anyway. ”
I can’t help but feel for Hunter, Saylor, and, yes, even North. Hunter and North had survived an unimaginable ordeal, and the scars, both physical and emotional, are still very much a part of their lives.
I know the feeling.
“We didn’t realize the extent of the damage until we were safe in the harbor,” Hunter continues, his voice now barely above a whisper. “My leg was a mess. They had to amputate it from the knee down to save me.”
Holy shit.
Memories of him limping fill my thoughts, of him talking about holding onto him, although he’s not entirely stable.
How could I have not noticed earlier?
He pulls up the leg of his night pants to his knee to show me the metal underneath.
“And that’s all because of me,” Saylor’s voice is watery, his gaze on his feet.
I can’t even imagine what it was like. And how it is now for them to live on and cope.
Or just cope, in Saylor’s case.
There is a lump in my throat that I have to swallow before I can even say anything at all. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I whisper into the silence that has settled in the room.
To both of them.
“Me too. But I would do it over and over again,” Hunter declares, his gaze locking onto mine, tears shimmering in his eyes.
My own tears are threatening to spill over. “Why?”
I know why, but Saylor has to hear it.
“Because Saylor was worth the try. I would have given everything if it would have kept him with us. Even my own life.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hunter,” Saylor’s voice is watery before a sob breaks out of him, and he takes a few steps away from me.
The air in the room feels thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken grief and the ghost of tragedy. I sit there, the picture frame in my lap a forgotten thing, as the reality of their past and shared pain settles over me.
My heart aches with a deep, resonant pain that mirrors the loss and sacrifice etched into every line of Hunter’s story. I’ve always felt like an outsider, someone on the periphery looking in. Hearing this, feeling the raw edges of their trauma, something shifts inside me.
There’s a connection there, a depth I can’t help but be drawn to, a gravity that pulls me closer to them, to this place, to a sense of home that has nothing to do with the house and everything to do with the people who live inside it.
“He sounds like a great brother.” My nose burning, I smile sadly at Hunter, who returns it with his own sad but appreciative smile.
“The best.” He nods, his voice filled with affection, and I glance at Saylor, who seems stricken, hugging himself tightly. “Wait, don’t tell Nash that, or I will never hear the end of it,” Hunter adds with a huff of laughter.
I chuckle, glad to see Hunter’s mood brightening, even if just a little. “What about North?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“North would just agree.” Hunter shrugs nonchalantly.
“Slo, this is fucking killing me,” Saylor looks devastated, so I get up, not wanting to torture him any longer.
I’m just about to tell Hunter good night and get back to my room when he stands as well, blocking my way.
“North isn’t a bad guy, Sloan,” he reassures me gently, reaching out to rub my upper arm.
“He would never let you out in the cold or do anything that could hurt you. He’s the one who wants to keep everyone safe.
He would never kick you out when he knows you would end up in the cold.
You can sleep here until everything is sorted out without worrying about him. ”
“Thank you,” I say softly, hoping my voice conveys how much I mean it. “For sharing that with me, for letting me in.”
I’m not just a bystander. I’m becoming a part of their story and determined to make it a better one for Saylor from here on out. I can’t undo the past, but maybe, just maybe, I can be a part of the healing, a part of moving forward for him.