Chapter 9
Hunter
“Look who decided to show for dinner.” His smooth voice rumbles down my spine nearly tripping me up as I enter the kitchen. “You take your time trying to get pretty for me, or were you coming to the realization that there’s no way out of this place except past yours truly.” He smirks.
I probably should’ve tried to make an escape; that would’ve been the wise thing to do, but instead, I was having a breakdown.
Twisted up in my mass of confusion. The pressure burning at the backs of my eyes.
Hearing the rawness in his voice, seeing the pain through his eyes, what he endured at the end of my hands…
it’s shredding me whole. He should kill me now.
I would if I were him. I don’t deserve to live after what I did.
“Looks like you could use this.” He pushes the glass of brown liquor in front of me. I reach for it and toss it back. I could use a whole fucking bottle at this point.
“What’s the matter, pet? You feeling guilty over what just happened, over the fact that you liked it so much? Or are you sad your life is near its end?”
The only shame I have is for the way I treated him.
I was so fucking confused. Confused and fucking terrified.
If my father found out how I felt, that I was gay, he would’ve had me locked up in a psych ward, determined to cure me of my psychosis.
Or worse, he would’ve burned me on a stake, ridding himself of his demon child.
“You asked me why I chose you.” My voice sounds ragged as I start to speak, but I’m fucking tired. Tired of the weight constantly bearing down. Tired of my father’s voice running through my head.
“You must be the best, Hunter. I expect fucking perfection. If you’re not the best football player on the field, then fucking quit because no son of mine is going to waste his life being second to anyone.
Bs are for brainless nitwits who want to end up working at a gas station, so don’t you dare walk through that door with anything less than an A.
I’ll bury you beneath the ground before I let you disgrace our family.
You are a Sorent. And we are fucking men.
Not pussy-ass faggots who take it up the ass and cry themselves to sleep at night because they’re weak and pathetic.
Now, do you understand what I expect from you? ”
“I chose you because I couldn’t stand to look at you,” I finally give light to my darkest secret.
“If you’re going to start talking, then how about telling the truth.”
I look up from my empty glass and am locked under his angry stare. Those eyes have haunted me ever since the first week of our freshman year.
“Yo’ did you see that?” Connor claps me on the back as we enter the locker room.
“I think that girl was a junior and she was totally checking you out.” He’s practically bouncing on his feet, and here I am not even feeling a twinge of excitement at the fact that the girl seemed interested.
She’s probably half the school’s fantasy, but I’m not even getting a single flutter in my gut. Damn, I’m so fucking pathetic.
“I saw.” I smile, not wanting them to see my truth. “I may have to get her number.” I probably should. I told myself I was going to start dating girls, and I need to stick by that plan if I’m ever going to fix myself. If anyone was going to turn me straight, she probably could.
I open my locker, working to get changed out for gym class.
As I start to pull my pants down, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise as if someone’s watching me.
I turn my head and it’s like I’m jolted with electricity.
My stomach starts fluttering fast, my arms prickling with goose bumps.
This is the feeling they’re talking about.
The butterflies. The racing heart. The excitement.
I’ve never felt anything like it. And he’s staring right back. His gorgeous eyes unwavering.
“Dude, what’s he looking at?” Connor’s voice has me tensing.
My friends just caught me staring at some kid.
They’re going to think I’m a freak if I don’t do something.
I narrow my glare at the kid, and he quickly turns back toward his locker.
I stalk toward him, my sweaty fists clenched at my sides.
The closer I get to him, the angrier I get.
“What the fuck are you looking at, loser?” My gut twists tighter as I get closer to him.
He slowly looks over his shoulder and my stomach stirs with more fucking butterflies.
He’s even hotter up close. “I asked you a question, loser.” I move in closer as I hear my friends approach my side.
They’re going to call me a faggot. Everyone’s going to know my secret.
And then my father will kill me. “Why the hell are you watching me change-out?” My voice is a near growl.
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “Didn’t mean to.
I just…um…” His voice trails off and my palms fist tighter, my nails drawing blood under their grip.
I can’t even look at him. I’m practically sinking in the quicksand.
I need to get away from him. He needs to get out of my sight before I become the biggest laughingstock in the school.
The football team won’t want me in the same locker room, afraid I might try to get a look at their jockstraps. Fuck.
“He thinks you’re hot, Hunter,” Connor teases, flanking me on the left.
“He’s trying to check out your package,” Tyler chimes in, and now I’m practically shaking. If anyone looks at my package, they’re going to know I’m a fucking weirdo.
“Listen, you little faggot.” I reach out and slam him against the locker, wanting to hurt him for making me feel this way. “I don’t like you looking at me, and if I ever see you do it again, I’ll kick your ass.”
He shakes his head, sputtering, looking like he wants to wet himself. “I’m sorry. I was just looking because you’re so strong. I’ve never seen someone our age so huge. It’s incredible.”
His words send a shiver down my spine, and those butterflies gain speed. I need to shut him up. It’s too fucking much. My stomach is going rampant. My mind is spinning. And my dick isn’t deflating fast enough.
“I am strong,” I state, my hold on him tightening as my knees start growing weak. “And you’re a weak little pathetic faggot. This locker room isn’t for queers, so you better scurry to the girls’ room to change. Now scram, loser.”
I release my grip and the kid practically runs from the room. And as the door slams closed behind him, I can finally take a breath.
The memory fades and I look up, seeing those gorgeous eyes that were my biggest temptation still waiting on my explanation. “Because you made me feel weak.”
His head cocks to the side. Damn, why does he have to be so sexy?
Everything about him. His eyes. Nose. High cheekbones.
The curve of his lips. Every fucking thing about him drives me crazy.
And now…now that he’s turned into this massive beast, strong and dominant, a man of pure confidence and no fear, I can’t turn it off.
There’s no stopping it. I can no longer beat the shit out of him to curb the hunger. I’m just starved.
“How so?” he asks. “Were you that insecure about your grades?”
The air slowly releases on a sigh. If only that were my issue.
“My father would see a gay man walking down the street and he’d shake his head, saying how disgusted he was.
He told me that every gay man should be strung up by their ankles and left out as animal feed.
That gay men were a weakness to the male population.
” His hate knew no bounds. “From that very first moment I saw you in the locker room, you staring up at me like I was incredible, your gorgeous eyes burning with heat, I knew you were my weakness. No one had ever stirred the feelings in my gut, but you sucker punched me.” It was like I’d been struck down by some cosmic force.
“Every time I looked at you it was a reminder of who I was and what I wanted. And it only got worse. The fear. The rage. The desire. It grew and grew. And I couldn’t shut it off.
You were the only one that I couldn’t shake.
All the bare-naked asses in the locker room, the chiseled chests in the gym—none of them got to me. But you…you were my kryptonite.”