Chapter 20
Hunter
With his words still ringing in my ears, I try to pull back so I can look at him, but he clings tighter to me.
I’ll be able to look into his eyes later. Hopefully.
God, it feels like my heart is going to pound right out of my chest. I’m shaking just as hard as he is, and his soft cries are tearing at my heartstrings.
I whisper his name again, but I’m not sure he even hears me. He definitely doesn’t hear Mom padding down the small hallway toward us. Her eyes take in the scene, and she gives me a small nod before turning around and heading right back down the hall.
Inhaling a deep breath, I try again to get Theo to look at me. This time, he pulls back just far enough that I can see his blue eyes.
“Hey,” I croak out. “What’s going on?”
He shakes his head. “I just… I don’t want to die. And I was—I almost… I was going to—” His words cut off with another sharp breath before more sobs tear from his throat.
“Shh.” I pull him back to me and slide my fingers through his hair. He was going to… what? I swallow hard. “Were you…?” I trail off, barely able to force the question out. “Were you going to hurt yourself?”
For a long while, I don’t get an answer, and I already pushed him too far once. He’s here. He’s here and he’s safe, and I’m not going to risk fucking everything up by making the same mistake again.
“Let me take you upstairs to my room, okay?”
He nods against my shoulder.
Hooking my arms under his thighs, I lift him up, holding him firmly against me, chest to chest. His arms drape over my shoulders, and he just… slumps, all his weight collapsing against me.
It’s tricky to get up the stairs with him in my arms, but I manage it, and when we’re in my room, I kick the door shut behind us.
He’s still clinging to me, and when I try to set him down, he just holds on tighter. “Let me get you into bed, Theo.”
“Don’t leave.” His voice is muffled against my chest.
“I won’t,” I whisper, my heart jumping into my throat.
I wait until he nods, then carefully place him on my bed and tuck him into the blankets.
His eyes follow me as I walk around and join him on the other side.
After crawling in beside him, I hold my arm up, and he scoots closer, his body relaxing into mine as he buries his face in my throat and inhales deeply.
Running my hands up and down his back, I hold him while his body shakes and shudders under my touch.
I have no idea how much time has passed when he lets out a small breath, and I realize he’s asleep.
Crying. He fell asleep crying. Fuck.
He looks worse than I’ve ever seen him. Not in a bad way, in an exhausted way. Like the tiredness that always plagues him has completely taken him over. Like he’s more exhaustion than man.
I have no idea why he showed up, especially after not talking to me for a week, but fuck, am I glad he did. I hope I can figure out what’s going on. I hope he’ll talk to me. He’s here. That has to be a good sign, right?
I’m far too afraid to fall asleep, so I hold him for hours instead.
When Theo finally stirs just before 3:00 a.m., he exhales a long, slow breath against my throat, then shifts backward until his face is turned toward mine.
He’s avoiding eye contact, but that’s alright.
“Hey,” I whisper, my throat croaky from not using it for so long. “Are you okay?”
“I’m here.” His voice is a low monotone, more devoid of emotion than I’ve ever heard it.
On instinct, I reach up, cupping his face in my palm. His eyes fall closed, and he leans into it. He’s touch-starved, I think. Lonely. The word floats around in my head from weeks ago, when he was telling me what it was like to live in the city.
“You’re here.” I want to ask why. I want to ask why he changed his mind, why he came here, and why he didn’t call. So many questions. So many whys, and not a single one of them needs to be answered right now. “Are you hungry?”
He gives me a weak nod but doesn’t open his eyes. “Yes.”
“Let me go make you something to eat.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers.
I let my thumb brush along his cheekbone, my stomach fluttering wildly that he’s here and letting me touch him. If I wasn’t still so worried, I think I’d be collapsing under the relief of it. “I’m just gonna run to the kitchen and grab some snacks, and I’ll be right back.”
He studies my face, eyes roaming slowly, almost like he’s searching for a lie. “Okay,” he finally whispers.
I’m not sure I’ve ever run downstairs so quickly in my life. Within five minutes, I’m back in my bedroom with two bottles of water, a box of cereal, a handful of snack packs of cookies, and some beef jerky. It’s quite the spread, but I wanted quick and easy and a bit of variety.
Tomorrow, I’ll make him a real meal. For tonight, I just need to get something in his stomach.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” I ask as I set everything out on the bed.
He shakes his head, then eyes what I’ve brought in.
“Alright. I’ve got cereal—Lucky Charms, my favorite—beef jerky, and some cookies. Pick your poison.”
I help him sit up, propping pillows behind his back. My bedframe is an antique with a wrought iron headboard, and while it’s gorgeous, it’s not very comfortable to rest against.
He points wordlessly to the cereal, and I grab it, climbing into the bed and settling cross-legged with our knees inches from touching.
After opening the box, I gesture to him. “Hold your hand out.”
He does, and I shake a small handful of cereal into his palm. Instead of eating it, though, he just stares at it.
“What’s your percentage, Theo?” I ask as softly and kindly as I can manage.
His eyes well up, and when he blinks, tears spill over his dark lashes onto his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I kinda feel like I don’t have one at all.”
Theo’s eyes fall to my hand when I reach out slowly, cupping the bottom of his, and rest it on my knee. When I pick up a piece of cereal and hold it out to him, confusion clouds his eyes. “You open, I’ll feed, yeah?”
His jaw drops open, and I place the cereal on his tongue. I watch him while he chews, and when he’s done, he opens his mouth again. I fight a smile as I give him another piece.
When he’s eaten the palmful of cereal, I open a bottle of water and lean forward to help him take a drink. He drinks like he’s been parched for days. It could rival even Lila draining her bottle, the sides of the plastic collapsing with how quickly he’s drinking it.
If he hasn’t had water in a while, though, it’s probably best not to let him get too much at once. “Easy,” I whisper. “Not too much too fast.”
He stops drinking, and I pull the bottle back. “More food?”
“Please,” he croaks out.
“Do you like beef jerky?” I ask, reaching for it. It’s not exactly the best form of protein, but it’s better than nothing, and it was quick enough to grab.
He nods, so I start tearing a stick into manageable, small pieces that he can chew and swallow easily. He eats two of them before his eyes are drooping with exhaustion.
“When was the last time you showered?” I ask quietly.
I’d never judge him for not being able to, but I think being in a clean body would probably help him.
I’m not dumb, and while maybe I don’t know everything about depression, I know it’s different from normal sadness.
But when Dad died, I couldn’t force myself to shower for over a week, and that first one felt like actual heaven.
He shrugs. “Dunno.”
“Would you like to shower? It might make you feel better to be clean.”
Shame flashes in his eyes, and he drops his gaze.
“Hey,” I whisper, leaning forward so I can cup his chin and coax his eyes back up. “There we go,” I say when he makes eye contact. “Nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Would you like to shower?”
“Not sure I have the energy.”
I bet that would be hard. “I can help you,” I offer, fully expecting him to turn it down, but to my surprise, he doesn’t. At least not outright.
“You would?”
I nod. “Sure. Got a big tub. I could fill it up for you, and then I could help you wash your hair. I’ve got bubble bath, so it would cover everything, and I wouldn’t even need to look at ya.”
His cheeks pink up a little. “I don’t care about that. It’s just… why would you do that? For me?”
The way he says it doesn’t sit right with me. It’s not like he doesn’t want me to, but more like he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. Or like he’s a burden. Neither of which are true.
“Because I want to. I care about you, Theo.”
“Okay,” he whispers.
“Did you lock your car?” I ask. “I can go down and get your clothes.”
He blinks at me. “I didn’t bring any.”
“You… didn’t bring clothes?”
He shakes his head slowly. “No… I, uh, I was standing in a parking garage, thinking about…” Theo blows out a breath. “Thinking about jumping,” he whispers, and my entire body goes cold. “And then I just… came here instead. I drove straight here.”
Fuck. “Oh, Theo,” I whisper. I hold my arms open, and he falls forward, sinking into me again. “I’m glad you came. I’m so sorry. That must have been scary.”
“It was,” he chokes out.
“You’re safe now.” Though I’m not sure I should say that because I don’t actually know. It’s not like I have the power to heal depression. Just because he’s here doesn’t mean he won’t still have those thoughts. It doesn’t mean he won’t still struggle.
At the very least, it means he won’t be alone, though, and that’s better than nothing.
“Can I let Luca know you’re here?” I ask.
“Tomorrow,” Theo says. “I’m not ready to see him.”
I toy with the stringy strands of his hair. “No rush. I went to his house today to ask if he’d heard from you. For now, though, let’s focus on that bath, alright?”
Theo nods against my shoulder but doesn’t make any move to get up, and I’m content to hold him. I’m pretty exhausted myself, though, and I still need to take care of the animals in the morning, so I need to try getting him back into bed, and myself too.
“Let me go run some bathwater, and I’ll grab you something of mine to wear while you get in and get ready for me. Sound good?”
He untangles himself from me, sitting back so I can stand and go into the bathroom.
I pull a bottle of bubble bath out from under the sink, thankful that I have it, even though I never use it, and start filling up the giant claw-foot tub in my bathroom. My room is the only one upstairs that has one, and it’s my favorite thing ever.
After making sure the water isn’t too hot, I dump a shitload of the bubble bath in, and when it’s about halfway full, I go get Theo. I have to help him stand and support most of his weight, but we make it into the bathroom together.
“You go ahead and get undressed and in the tub, and I’ll grab clothes. Holler when you’re ready.”
Pulling the door most of the way shut, I take a few minutes to breathe before going to my closet to find him something to wear—a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Comfort is key right now, I think.
A few minutes later, Theo’s tired voice rings out. “Ready.”
Pushing the bathroom door open, I freeze when I see him. I’m not even sure why, but I think it’s just the shock that he’s here and in my tub, waiting for me to take care of him. I have to swallow hard against the lump in my throat.
The bubbles cover almost everything that’s under them, but I can make out his scar where it’s still peeking out above the water. It’s healed nicely, at least compared to what it looked like in those photos. The skin is slightly raised and pink, but all things considered, it’s not bad.
I force my eyes away before he can catch me staring at it, and I sit down on the floor next to the tub.
“Alright,” I say softly. “Let me go ahead and wash your hair while the water’s still runnin’, so we don’t just keep getting soapy water in it.”
He nods, and I grab a cup off the sink and fill it with warm water from the tap.
My heart skips a beat when he tilts his head back; being trusted to care for him this way is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. I put my hand over his forehead so the water doesn’t run down his face as I wet his hair. When it’s soaking wet, I set the cup down and pump shampoo into my palm.
He’s still while I scrub his hair, and when I start massaging his scalp, little whimpers echo in his throat. I’m not sure he even realizes he’s doing it, and it’s making me smile. “Feel good?”
“Mmm.”
I fill the cup back up, then rinse his hair until the water runs free of shampoo.
“Do you want me to wash the rest?” I ask quietly. “Upper body anyway.”
“Please.”
The tub’s about to overflow, so I shut the water off, then reach under the sink and grab a washcloth.
When I’ve dipped it in the water and lathered it up, I carefully and quickly wash his upper back, shoulders, and armpits before working the washcloth down both of his arms and placing it in his hand.
“How about I turn around, and you can use this under the water?”
“Okay,” he murmurs.
When I turn my back to him, I hear the water slosh as he finishes cleaning himself up.
It’s quick, not that I was expecting anything different given how exhausted he looks. It’s gotta be at least 4:30 a.m. by now.
“I’m ready.”
I pick the clothes up off the sink and set them on the floor beside the tub along with a towel. “Here. You can dry off and get dressed, and I’ll meet you back in the bedroom, okay?”
When he gives me a slight nod, I turn on my heel and leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.
While I’m waiting for him, I clean up the bed, setting his bottle of water on the nightstand on his side and moving all the snacks to my desk before shaking the blankets out to get rid of any crumbs.
I’m just finishing up when the door opens.
Theo stands nervously in the doorway, his hair damp and curling slightly around his temples. He looks so fucking beautiful that it nearly stops my heart. “Ready for bed?”
“Yeah,” he says, stepping closer.
We climb into bed together, and when I’m settled on my side, I hold my arms open for him again. He sinks into me, his entire body slumping. This time, he smells like my shampoo, and I bury my face in his hair and inhale my scent clinging to his skin.
He clutches my shirt in his fist and blows out a deep breath, and I wrap my arm around him, holding him closer as he snuggles deeper into my chest.
It takes him no time to fall asleep—this time without tears—and I follow behind him in seconds.