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“Zachie,” Grams gives me a chastising look under Emmy’s watchful eyes. “This precious baby here tells me that both you and Hunter used bad words today. She says you owe her some money for the swear jar she keeps at her house.” Emmy nods in agreement, her eyes almost glistening with greed at the aforementioned cash. I do admit that I did cuss earlier when I wasn’t aware that she had sneaked right behind me.
“Grams, it wasn’t like that…” I try to present my case, but Emmy turns her worried face toward my grandmother like she is trying to tell on me. These two have grown quite close ever since I brought Miranda into my life. Grams always thought it would be a good idea for me to find my only sibling, and she was ecstatic when I presented her not only with a sister, but also with her soon-to-be family.
“Just pay up, Zachie,” Hunter murmurs against my ear in a teasing tone. It is so much more different and lighter than what she’s been giving me lately, my hand automatically goes to my wallet and I drop a twenty in Emmy’s greedy hand.
“I don’t have any change to give you back, Uncle Zach,” her squeaky voice calls up to me. “But Daddy always says to put it toward his tab when he doesn’t have the exact amount.” She sounds so grown up when she says that, I almost start laughing. I just love this little girl.
“Put it on my tab, Ems,” I tell her, and she grins at me with happiness. She’s probably already plotting on how to get me again. “That’s for both me and Hunter, okay?” I make sure she knows so that she doesn’t hit me up for her now as well.
“Grams,” Hunter sits next to her, almost putting her head on her shoulder. “Did you bring anything? Brooke told me about your amazing fruit tarts.”
They start chatting about cookies and whatnot while I stand here and listen.
“I still hate your guts,” Ridge’s voice comes out of nowhere, low enough that I’m the only one hearing what he just said.
“I know, dude,” I shake my head at him and laugh. “You need to work on getting over it though. We’re basically brothers now,” I tease him, knowing that I will get more of a rise out of him.
“I still need to know what the fuck happened between you two before. I know some things, but I want details,” he demands. “Why did you break up with her?”
The question takes me by surprise. I thought he’d know everything by now. I know that Hunter told Brooke and Miranda our sordid love story. I can’t believe that Brooke didn’t tell him everything.
Unaware of my inner thoughts, Ridge continues running his mouth next to me.
“I thought for sure she’d end up with that Bran something dude. He plays for the Sliders,” Ridge snaps his fingers at me, like I should know who he is talking about. “Mattie told me they were going out, then she kept on getting tickets to the games. Those tickets were sweet, too, dude,” Ridge elbows me like to make a point. “They put us in a suite once. The owner of the team was up there. That was some crazy ass shit…”
He keeps on talking but now I am not listening to anything anymore. My eyes find Hunter. She is still sitting next to my grandmother, absorbed in an easy conversation.
My heart beats in an erratic rhythm, almost making me feel lightheaded. My mind goes back to the day seven years ago when I took Hunter’s virginity. I remember it like it was yesterday. My body was over hers, and I almost had a full blown raging experience thinking that she may, at some point into the future, allow some other man to touch her.
That red haze is currently taking over my brain, and I literally have tunnel vision at the moment. I watch Hunter laughing away with no care in the world as I am losing my mind picturing her with some douchebag she hooked up with when we were apart.
I pull my cell phone out and open my internet browser. Ridge is still yacking away about hockey games and fancy suite tickets. I do a quick search to find the loser who dared touch my woman. After I find his name and picture on the team website, I do another search on his social media accounts. I about collapse to the floor when I find that one Hunter Montgomery follows the fucker on every damn platform, and I even find some pictures of the two of them together. What the fuck.
To make things worse yet, I actually hung out with this dude couple of times when I stopped by Van’s place in New York. They’re good friends and hang out quite a bit during the season, not so much during the off season.
My eyes go back to Hunter. I’m thinking I must be looking quite unhinged at the moment considering the worried look I see on her face. She pats Grams on the arm and pinches Emmy’s adorable cheek, then stands up and walks toward me.
“Are you okay?”
“We need to go,” is all I am able to say. I am prepared to drag her out of here by her hair if she doesn’t comply. Why is everything about her making me this crazy?
She takes my murderous look seriously and rushes to say her goodbyes to her family, as well as mine. I just give everyone a short wave, after which I rush us out of the house.
“What the hell was that?” she sounds out of breath when she is finally seated on the passenger side. “Are you actually crazy?”
“Shut up,” I growl and leave her parents’ driveway with a squeal of tires. Hunter hangs onto the handle of her door, throwing worried looks my way. That makes two of us because I am just as worried about my mental health. Why do I get this violent rage inside of me at the thought of Hunter with someone else? This doesn’t make any sense.
When we get home, I throw the car into Park and march around it to help Hunter out. I always do this, no matter how crazy toward her I feel.
We walk into the house, and I rush toward the bar I have set up on one side of the dining room. I need a drink, a strong one. I also need my head examined, but that’s a different story.
“Zach, you’re scaring me right now.” Hunter sounds close to tears. I don’t even know what to say to that. Thing is, there I was, fucking her every night for the last few months in the hopes of getting her pregnant, only now to feel infuriated over her having been with other men while we were apart. This shit is not making any sense.
“Fuck!” I shout and throw the bottle of scotch I had just picked up against the closest wall. The noise it makes when it breaks and hits the floor makes Hunter jump back, both hands covering her mouth in distress.
What I feel toward Hunter cannot be healthy. It’s like I am unhinged when it comes to her, and I can’t control my reactions to anything that is her.
I watch her shrinking into herself, unsure of how to deal with my anger, my darkness, my everything that is me. I have never been like this with anyone but her. I don’t understand any of it. I don’t know what to do next.
