Chapter eleven Hunter
Chapter eleven
Hunter
I’m officially three seconds away from losing my shit. No— really.
Where the fuck are they?!
I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight. This was a terrible idea but somehow I talked myself into coming regardless.
After what happened a few weeks ago, I had firmly planned to never step foot inside Cedar Heights again. But I convinced myself to come for the sake of Rylan and Tai.
Even if, perhaps, I’m not being entirely truthful to myself.
A part of me dreaded the idea of Spencer being here again. If it wasn’t for me, she’d be dead. What if something happened tonight and I wasn’t around to save Rylan and Tai? To save her?
She’s a fucking magnet for danger, and the irony isn’t lost on me that the only reason she’s in this whole predicament is because of Willowbrook—the organization represented by my own father.
It shouldn’t be taking this long to search less than a third of the damn school, and for someone like Rylan who holds punctuality on a golden pedestal, there’s no way they are still looking.
Something has happened.
Despite my protests, I’ve been outvoted.
Yes—even by my so-called best friend. I guess that’s what happens when your dick is doing the thinking for you.
While the Cedar idiots shut down my concerns immediately with little thought, Tai’s dismissal was a blatant coddling of, “Chill, H! They are fine. We’d know if they weren’t. ”
Spencer is not as invincible as they all seem to believe she is. How do I know? Because I was the one who held her together when she started to break down.
You have to consider it from a psychological point of view. It’s no secret that in recent months Spencer has had her fair share of bad luck when it comes to incidents.
We all put on a brave front—it’s practically part of the uniform and job description that comes with this position. But she still nearly died.
Here.
In this fucking building.
If something goes wrong again, we might not get lucky a second time.
The plan was clear—we come in, we scope out the joint and we leave. This is not some field trip where we have all night to roast marshmallows and exchange ghost stories. So, the fact that these other three seem content waiting around like sitting ducks, really grinds my gears.
Spencer is not bulletproof, despite what she wants everyone to believe. Assuming she’s untouchable is a fatal mistake, one I nearly paid the price for.
I’m at the end of my tether. We’ve been waiting here, near the library, for nearly twenty minutes. And that’s after I had to also deal with Spencer’s bitch boy trying to boss me around.
Does he really believe we don’t know our way around their useless academy? Blueprints exist for a reason. If they don’t have a copy of Willowbrook’s layout memorized then that’s a clear failure on their part.
“Relax, H,” Tai calls out, making me halt my pacing.
“We don’t have time for this,” I snap back. “If they aren’t here in the next two minutes, I’m going to go find them and drag them back to the cars because I’m done.”
“Why am I not surprised that you’re still being an emotional ass?” comes a familiar voice from behind me. Of course—impeccable timing.
Spinning around, I stare at Rylan, then Bexley. “Took you long enough. You had the smallest area to cover and you’re the last one to arrive.”
Rylan cocks an eyebrow at me. “We’re not in a rush, H. We just wanted to be thorough.”
Shaking my head, I just quietly scoff, “Whatever.”
Bexley strides past to confer with her Boy Robin and the psychopathic jacket—Parker… parka. Whatever his name is. I don’t care, anyway.
Rylan slips up silently beside me. When I turn to him, ready to scold him under my breath, the words get cut off by the peculiar, awed expression plastered on his face. His eyes are suspiciously alert, fixed sharply on something. Following his gaze, I spot what has his attention.
What the actual fuck stain?
Turned away, all we can see is her back facing us. And suddenly, my hunch is confirmed. Something did happen. But surely, if there was some type of danger encountered, they would have already filled us in by now.
Peering back at Rylan, I visually assess him, taking note of similar discoloration on his hands and knees.
Everything clicks at once.
The pair of them are covered in black, ashy dust.
My mind cycles through the various placements. Her back. His hands and knees. And the odd exception of her shorts being devoid of charcoal stains while little wood chippings cling to the backs of her thighs.
“Are you fucking serious?” I hiss quietly at Rylan.
Did they seriously fuck while we are here doing Cedar Heights a favor? While we were waiting for them?
“Don’t,” he mutters, sending me a warning glare. “Not now.”
“You’re un-fucking-believable,” I shoot back, huffing.
I’m tempted to wipe the tiny smirk he’s trying to fight off his face. Clearly, he thinks this is the most hilarious thing ever. He’s probably high-fiving himself in his damn head.
Boy Wonder waves us over. “Alright. Time to check this hole out.”
I switch my focus to Bexley, frowning at her frustrated and distracted visage. The others have already started piling into the library while she grabs at the backs of her legs.
“What are you doing?” I ask abruptly, hating how concerned I actually sound as I stop next to her, the two of us alone in the hallway.
Bexley’s head snaps up to look at me. “Nothing—just a splinter, I think.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You have a splinter in your ass?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she grumbles. “It’s in the most annoying spot.”
“Where?”
She physically pauses. “What?”
“Where is the splinter?” I repeat, exasperated.
I wait for her to tell me to fuck off or whatever. To my surprise, she angles herself away, giving me a view of her ashy back.
“Here,” she points, twisting her upper half and directing me to the top of her thigh. Squinting through the darkness as I crouch down, I spot a fragment of wood embedded into her skin, almost hidden by the ash, right where her thighs meet. “I can’t seem to reach it.”
Adjusting myself, I motion for her to move. “Open your legs.”
Again, to my astonishment, there’s no threats to my existence, only unusual compliance. My jaw clenches tight when I have to wrap my arm around the front of her thigh to steady both of us, so that my fingers can pinch it out.
My hand stays pressed to the inside of her thigh while I work it out slowly. I try hard not to think about the events leading up to this, knowing that the subject of Rylan’s affections is inches away from my hand.
Or the intoxicating scent of… her. Which is difficult to ignore with my head right next to her thighs.
I don’t realize what I’m doing until it’s too late. I glance up at her, breath hitching when I find her already staring back. My hand twitches and accidentally squeezes her thigh, and for a moment, I’m lost in our optic connection.
I forget where we are. I forget we’re meant to be inside the library with the others. All I can focus on is the crystal mint sea haze.
Snap the fuck out of it, Hunter.
Shaking my head clear, I mentally scold myself for accidentally pinching her, but it does seem to speed up the job. I extract the splinter and rub my fingers to dispel it on the ground. “There.”
“Thank you,” she mumbles, taking a step back from me.
I hate the way her creating distance makes me feel. I’m angry—overwhelmed with the need to rip her back toward me for her sheer audacity to put space between us.
Bexley goes to head through the library doors, but I suddenly reach for her, grabbing her wrist before I can rationally talk myself out of it.
“Why didn’t you tell them?” I demand quietly.
She straightens up, leveling to face me. But she doesn’t try to remove my tight grip on her.
“About you coming to my house?” She questions. When I give her a sharp confirming nod, Bexley shrugs. “I didn’t think they needed to know. You were clearly just dealing with something. It’s not my place to tell them your business.”
“Stop doing that,” I hiss. “Stop acting like you care about any of us.”
Bexley’s eyebrows knit together in frustration. “Is it really that hard to believe that I do?”
“Yes!” I snap back, a little too loudly. I lower my voice again, taking a calming breath. “Because you’re not supposed to. That’s the rules.”
“I’m not a fucking rule,” she fights back. “I’m a goddamn person. And so are you.”
Her words are a direct bitchslap to my psyche.
I can’t do this.
“This isn’t right,” I mumble, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”
“What is it supposed to be like?” Bexley asks curiously. “A robotic allegiance to a bunch of mediocre older men? Fuck that. Look where it got us.”
She sounds exactly like Rylan. No wonder he’s so smitten with her. They seem to have some fucked-up bond over our legacies.
The legacies that used to mean something. A golden creation held above all else. Now, with each passing day, the gold is smearing, revealing an illusion—a deceitful disguise—and underneath, turns out we’re just gold-plated knockoffs, portrayed as puppets.
Everything I’ve ever known has been a lie. So, where does that leave me? With nothing.
I am nothing. Because my value never actually existed.
Bexley inches toward me, and immediately I feel the gravitational pull return. God, this close, I can see every little hidden spec of blue in her eyes.
“Hunter,” she says quietly, keeping our eyes locked. “I do care. And I think you do too. But I’m not your enemy here. I’m not going to use it as a weakness against you.”
She reaches up to my hair, flattening the unruly tendrils back down from my aggressive tousling.
“I know it sucks. I know what it’s like to have your entire world change overnight and how out of control you feel. But it’s not worth us dying for them, Hunter.”
I’m blindsided by the admission, unsure how to respond or feel, when Bexley finally turns around and heads into the library.
Letting out a sigh, I wait a few seconds before following after her.
The others have already managed to find the hole, the group crouching down to peer inside.
“It’s a tunnel,” Roberts says to Bexley. “No idea where it goes but it looks long.”
“Could head into the center of town,” Tai suggests. “It seems like it’s that direction.”
Rylan gives me a puzzled look when I finally join them but doesn’t voice the questions on his mind. “It’s not on the blueprints,” he directs at me. “We would have seen it.”
“Maybe check your father’s records,” I offer. “If it does lead into Ridgeview, he’d have access to any underground maps.”
Bexley leans down to gaze inside, a horrible wave of déjà vu hitting me. “So, I’m not crazy, right? This wasn’t obvious before?”
“Definitely not,” Parker confirms. “I was in the library the day of the fire. It was well hidden.”
“Or added for the fire. Access,” Rylan adds, making us all turn to look at him.
Bexley straightens up. “Why do you say that?”
I snort, cluing in on his line of thought. “It seems too convenient that this hidden tunnel was here the entire time. Obviously someone knows about it. Because if the trap door wasn’t open the day of the fire, then why was it open when we found it?”
I can see the cogs spinning in Bexley’s head as she comes to the same realization I have. Whoever tried to kill us came in through here, intentionally led us into the trap, then disappeared like a ghost.
And when did it start? When Bexley was getting ready to climb into this hole to check it out.
It was a set-up. They were watching the entire time.
“Maybe the firefighters or arson investigators located it during their inspection?” Roberts warily suggests, though he doesn’t sound convinced either.
Nor does Bexley.
“Your dad would have said something,” she states, shaking her head as she looks over at me. “Hunter’s right. We’re not the only ones who have been sneaking into Cedar Heights.”