Chapter fifteen Hunter
Chapter fifteen
Hunter
Bexley’s smile falters, the faint light in her eyes vanishing once more.
I watch in real time as her mental walls become a fortress.
The change is almost instant, voice becoming more distant and cold as she glances away as though she’s attempting to stop me from seeing the truth behind her eyes.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she murmurs matter-of-factly, but I get the impression the tone isn’t personal toward me.
“Probably not,” I agree. “But I’m here anyway.”
She shakes her head softly, pulling her knees back to her chest in a protective manner.
Everything about this interaction is making me uncomfortable. This is Bexley Spencer, for fuck’s sake. Very little rattles her but clearly something, or someone, has. And, unfortunately, the chance of it being someone I know is high. It could even be me.
She’s clearly dealing with something and now she’s acting as though she needs to be my damn therapist, offering a listening ear. Well, that was until I turned it back on her and now she’s shut down again.
I really need to quit this habit of just turning up at her house. One day soon it’s going to end badly.
I can probably rule out Tai or Rylan as the possible culprit—she always radiates when she’s with them.
But if I’m being honest, for once I don’t think I’m the problem. Though, if Bexley was smarter, she’d throw my ass out.
I’d fight her on it, sure. But she should still try.
“Who was it?” I demand when she still won’t give me any answers. I’m getting more and more irritated with each passing second, pissed that someone has ruined my plan. But I’m also furious that someone has done something to cause this reaction from her. It’s unsettling.
The tips of Bexley’s lips tilt up in a guarded smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Nor will she look at me which only heightens my suspicions that I know the culprit.
I take a stab in the dark. “Did my father do something?”
Her eyes snap over to me. “No,” she answers sharply, but immediately, something is off with the way her body tenses up and her tone shifts. It’s darker, matching the energy drifting off her in waves.
And it clicks.
“Rylan or Tai’s?” I push, the toxins in my bloodstream starting to boil.
Both Max and George are in town, so I know it’s going to be one of them. She has about five seconds to willingly tell me before I go nuclear and resort to other means to extract the information.
Five… four… three… two…
I grab my cell from my hoodie pocket, heading straight to the contact list. Bexley stiffens, eyes narrowing.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Ry and T. If you won’t tell me, then I’ll bring them here and have them force it out of you.”
“Hunter, don’t.” Her voice cracks, hand shooting out to gently push my phone toward the ground. “It’s not worth the issues that will follow.”
My expression darkens, holding off dialing for a brief second to give her the opportunity to come clean. “Then tell me, Bexley. I’m not very patient.”
For the smallest moment, there’s a flash of amused defiance before it’s swallowed back into the emotionless void. Our eyes stay locked, and finally, I force her to crack when I lift the phone again, calling her bluff. Well, it’s not really a bluff if I fully intend to follow through.
“Mayor Astor,” she sighs. “It was… Rylan’s dad.”
I lower the phone, pleased to have an answer. “Max? What did he say?”
Bexley glances over at the door, as though she’s waiting for him to appear like an apparition in a game of Bloody Mary. “He broke in,” she murmurs in a hollowed tone. “I’m not sure how.”
“What?” I question, caught off guard. “What do you mean broke in?”
Her eyes stay fixed on the door with a look of perplexity. “I mean the door was locked, Hunter. But he just opened it and walked in.”
I wish I could say I’m surprised. Hell, maybe for her benefit I should pretend to be or something. But hearing this, I’m not at all shocked. Max loves the power that comes with his position, and if anyone was going to abuse privileges, it’s him.
“Right. What did he say?”
Bexley slouches her back against the chair. “He’s trying to bribe me to leave town. Well, blackmailing, I guess. They go hand-in-hand really.”
“Blackmailing how?” I demand, instantly regretting the harshness that accompanies my tone.
She either doesn’t care or take notice, though. “If I don’t leave by tonight, he’s coming after me and Rylan,” she says slowly, almost as if she’s emphasizing the severity of the situation.
Once again, I should be shocked by the information that Max is including his son in a threat, but I’ve got nearly two decades of first-hand experience with how our fathers operate.
I wish I had come to the realization sooner.
It’s only since recently finding myself on the receiving end that I’m able to grasp how messed up it is—what price they will happily pay to get what they want.
Very little is off the table when it comes to getting what they want and being in control, even if it means using their own children as weapons or sacrificing them as collateral damage.
“I’m calling Ry,” I announce, lifting the phone. Bexley suddenly snatches it from my hand, pushing to her knees so she can hold it out of reach.
“We’re not telling him,” she declares. “Not yet. Just give me some time to figure it out first.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. It’s cute that she thinks she has a choice. “Time? And what is it you hope to achieve within the next few hours?”
“I don’t know,” she shoots back. “But I’m not running off to beg for help from the wolves just because one of their own is holding a gun to my head.”
Leaning back, I stare at her coolly, all too aware at how close our bodies are with her looming over the top of me. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact Rylan told you he loved you, would it?”
Bexley’s face twists painfully. “No,” she claims. “Even if he hadn’t said it, I still wouldn’t be dragging him into this. Why am I not surprised you heard, though. What else did Rylan say?”
I chuckle, humming low. “Why are you so quick to assume the three of us all share our dirty little secrets?”
“Don’t you?” She snorts.
“Not anymore,” I reveal bluntly. “But to answer your question—Rylan hasn’t mentioned it. However, I can’t say the same for others.”
She slumps back onto her calves. “They know?” Her voice is quiet. “Of course they do. It would explain why Max Astor turned up here.”
I nod, not bothering to sugarcoat the bullshit. “According to Peyton, Liv overheard his little confession. Unfortunately, not much stays a secret for long with that cheer-psycho.”
Bexley’s head turns away, looking deflated. “I haven’t even had time to process it or talk to him. Now everyone else is all up in our business. Fuck—poor Rylan.”
“He’ll survive,” I tell her, amused. “But maybe you’re the problem here too.”
“Me?” She sputters. “How am I the problem?”
Our eyes meet. “You were quick to blame Rylan. When are you going to realize he’s not the person you keep trying to convince yourself he is?
Same goes for Tai.” Pausing for effect, I dip my head, eyes narrowing.
“You keep claiming to care about them, but every chance you get to blame or accuse them of something, you take it.”
Bexley frowns, hesitating. “Can you blame me after everything? Not long ago all of you would be happy to see me get hurt.”
“I always say you should judge people not by what you see, but by what you don’t,” I reply.
“Like the fact that behind closed doors, those two idiots go out of their way to defend you every chance they get.” I reach over and tuck a loose tendril behind her ear.
“Not only to me, the one person who might be able to overlook their stupidity, but to people like Olivia. People who have the power to ruin them if they aren’t careful. ”
“What?” She breathes uneasily.
“Idiots, like I said. That’s how much they care about you, Bexley. They are willing to throw away everything for you. If that doesn’t tell you what you need to know, then I’m afraid you’re a lost cause.”
Bexley shifts back onto her ass, resuming a fetal position as she tucks her knees to her chest. “Is that why you hate me so much? I’m a threat?”
“You are a threat,” I agree. “But like I said, you’ve got me all fucked up.” Sighing, it’s my turn to look away as my voice drops lower. “I don’t hate you, Bexley. Not anymore. And it’s getting too exhausting continuing to pretend that I do.”
The awkward tension I feel after voicing the words out loud could be measured on the Richter scale because it feels like I might detonate. I already regret them, wishing I could take them back. But Bexley leans forward, clutching my hand.
“Well, we did almost die together,” she jokingly mutters. “Trauma bonds can be tough to fight.”
I scan her face, the small smile easing some of the suffocation. “Do you want me to hang around tonight? Just in case Max shows back up or something.”
Or something.
“Okay,” she murmurs, squeezing my hand. “But if Max turns up, I might use you as a javelin to throw at him.”
After ordering some takeout and discussing the Max situation further, I find myself facing Bexley, the two of us laying on her bed.
Music is playing from her speaker in the corner and I recognize it as that band Ry likes.
He never misses a chance to force us to listen to them when he’s in charge of the tunes.
Asshole. Though, I’ll admit, they are pretty good. But it pisses him off when I diss them.
The sweet smell of lavender and apples is slowly pushing me to the brink of insanity, damp hair clinging to the sides of her face while she holds me with captivating eyes.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have declined the offer to use her shower.
She’s got me fucked up because being under a stream of ice cold water is where I need to be right now.
Laying next to her, I’m rock hard and trying not to make it obvious.
Trauma bond indeed.
“Do you still think about that night?” Bexley asks softly, the glow of her lamp casting warm light on her face.
“All the time,” I admit. “I can’t escape it.”
She smiles bitterly. “Me either. It was easily the scariest night of my life.”
“Mine too,” I admit. “But I’m glad you were there with me.”
Bexley breaks out a sudden grin. “That’s bullshit, Hunter, and you know it. I bet you wished it was anyone else but me.”
I push up on my elbow, keeping my eyes locked on hers.
“At first? Abso-fucking-lutely. But now I realize that anyone else, maybe with the exception of Ry and T, probably would have let me burn to save themselves.” My fingers find a scar on her arm, the skin still red but mostly healed.
I run my fingertip across the mark, heart starting to race when I notice her breathing quickens at my touch. “This will fade over time.”
I’m surprised when she mimics my movements, soft hand tracing a matching scar of my own. “I thought you got out in time,” she mutters. “Before the fire could hurt you.”
Shit. She doesn’t know.
Reaching down, I run my hand over her outer thigh, along another scar. “I have no regrets,” I murmur, voice low.
Confusion spreads across her features, but before I can tell her the truth, my body moves on its own and I do the unthinkable.
I fucking kiss her.
Not because I’m avoiding telling her.
But because I want to.
The moment I press my lips to hers, she’s kissing me back with equal intensity.
My rational thoughts that say this is a bad idea and we should stop are drowned out.
But I don’t think I want to. Or maybe it’s that I can’t.
All I know is something changed between us that night and, since then, every inch of my sanity has been stretched and put to the test until I’ve finally snapped.
A moan catches in Bexley’s throat and the simple sound sends my nerves into a frenzy. I squeeze her thigh, digging my fingers into the scars while my tongue ravages her mouth.
Fuck breathing. I’d rather suffocate than stop to take a breath right now. I could rip open my throat and I’d still try to whisper her name because it would be less painful than stopping.
Bexley slides her leg over my hip, my hand still firmly parked on her thigh. I’m agonizingly aware how easily I could slip my fingers inside the inseam of her pajama shorts. How effortless it would be to feel her.
I have no idea what’s wrong with me. The only thing I’m certain of is that Hunter Lannister died that night in the fire.
Now, I just don’t know if I’m in heaven or hell. And I decide I really don’t care where I am as long as I get to stay.