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“Don’t compare what I had with her to what you had for a moment with the old man who gave you a sponge bath.”
“He was very vigorous. And this was a life-changing bath. Tell you what, if it’ll help you take your mind off Emily, I’d be happy to beat you around the face a few times and send you to the hospital. Then you can meet Esteban and see what I’m talking about.”
Behind me, I hear music start, voices rise, and the sound of glasses clinking together. It’s nearly time for the party. I force a smile, though I’ve never felt so empty inside. This is a moment where I should be proud — I’ve bought safety and security for Charlie, a chance to make this place a home, build him a good life. How many people can say they literally saved someone’s life? Yet, here I am, having done that for the sweetest, most innocent little guy who makes me proud to be an almost-dad, and I feel nothing but empty pain in my chest.
And when I look over at the little guy, I see it in him, too. See the bags under his eyes, the lines in his forehead, hear the tone in his cries. He misses her, just as much as I do.
Maybe she was my Esteban… or even better.
My phone buzzes again. A text from Harper this time. I leave her on read.
I sigh. For my sake, and Charlie’s, I have to move on.
“I’ll have to take a rain check on the offer to get my ass beat so I can get a sponge bath from your guy. Today and tonight, there’s only one thing on my mind, Diesel.”
“What’s that?”
I down my drink, stand, and face the party. “It’s time I move on from Emily.”
* * * * *
Patch on my cut, a scrap of pride in my heart, and just the right amount of liquor in my blood that the smile on my face doesn’t feel completely fake, I step out into the parking lot of The Noble Fir, an unlit cigar in my hand and Diesel at my side.
An unexpected voice makes me drop the cigar. “Been looking all over for you, cockface.”
“Sophie?”
I look to the sound and see not just Sophie, but Harper and Maggie, too. All three stand just outside the clubhouse, watching me with their arms crossed. This is not the reunion I was hoping for. Each one of these women — beyond the looks of condemnation on their grim faces — is a reminder of what I’ve lost. That pain that had stayed in the background for the last few hours as I celebrated joining a new family suddenly surges to the forefront with staggering intensity. It’ll be a long, long time before Emily is out of my blood, and the last thing I need is to face three walking, talking reminders of that fact. I open my mouth to tell them off, when Diesel interrupts me.
“Hunter, you know these ladies?” Diesel says.
“Yes, he knows us. He’s also been dodging us,” Harper says. “I mean, leaving us on fucking ‘read’? Who the fuck does that?”
“Bro, did you really?” Diesel says. “That’s fucking low, man. Like, I know you just broke up with her, but there are rules, man. We live in a society.”
“Not now, Diesel,” I reply.
“But the politeness we showed you before ends now, you festering dickhole,” Sophie says.
Sophie steps forward and raises her hand as if to slap me, but Maggie intervenes. “Control yourself, Sophie.”
“Why the fuck do I need to be nice to the man who’s worse than having leprosy on my clitoris?”
“Crass girl, let the adults handle this.” Maggie rolls her eyes and turns her back to Sophie, who sighs and retreats a few steps. “Hunter,” she says, “This is serious. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”
There’s enough chill in her voice to sober me completely. “What is it, Maggie?”
“Emily’s been kidnapped.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Emily
“Time’s up,” he gloats, with sick superiority and a bit of drool dribbling from his mouth. His words slur a little, and it doesn’t surprise me he’s somewhat drunk. Jay hates me, regularly fantasizes about killing me, but in doing the actual deed, I’m not shocked he needs a little liquid encouragement. “Your deadline has come and gone. No paper, no degree. You are officially a failure in a brand new way. You failed as my girlfriend, you failed as Hunter’s girlfriend, you failed as a fucking babysitter, and now, you’ve failed as a student. Looks like everyone is going to finally see you as the waste of life you are.”
I look up at the ceiling of my concrete cell. There’s nothing up there except the security camera that I know Jay has set up just so he can record my death and watch it over and over, probably while masturbating, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the hurt that goes through me as I realize that he’s right — I have failed, and in so many ways.
“You won,” I say, my voice a weak, broken thing.
