Because she didn’t want her trashbag husband to get in trouble?
She would protect him even at the cost of Hunter’s life? Because if he was unconscious, she couldn’t have possibly known he was okay.
Oh my god.
Tears spring to my eyes again tonight, but this time, they’re so much worse. I’m not just sad for Hunter, I’m not just angry at his mom—I’m frightened for him. She isn’t protecting him, and Hunter is too stubborn to back down. This is only the second time I know of that his stepfather got physical with him, but if it escalated this badly this fast?
I’m just so glad he’s here now. I’m still afraid he might not be okay and that he really needs to see a doctor and make sure he doesn’t need stitches or have a concussion or anything, but right now I just need to hug him, so I do. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight, but I quickly loosen my grip when he hisses as if in pain.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, starting to pull back.
“No,” he says, placing a hand on my back to keep me there. “Stay put. I’ll be fine. I’m just a little sore. It was a bad fight.”
“It’s not a fight when you don’t stand a chance,” I snap, but it’s not him I’m mad at. “You’re 14 and he’s a grown man. That’s not a fight, Hunter, it’s abuse. He should be in jail.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, just keeps his arm around me while I hug him a little more gently this time.
I let go after a minute, then I wrap the cold compress in a thin cloth and hand it to him to put on his eye. We don’t say anything for a few more minutes, we just sit together in a companionable silence.
The gnawing in my gut won’t go away. I want to tell him he can’t go back home tonight. I want to tell him we need to wake up my mom. I want to tell him I know I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but I can’t keep that promise anymore. What if tonight had gone just a step further? What if his stepdad had smashed his head against a sink and caused more than unconsciousness? I could never forgive myself for holding my silence if something happened to Hunter. It’s not his job to cover for the people who aren’t protecting him—it’s their job to do better.
I don’t know where his head’s at, though. I guess I need to find out.
“Did she kick him out?” I ask softly.
Hunter doesn’t say a word for the space of a few heartbeats. His jaw locks and he stares straight ahead. Even in the dark, I can see the storm in his gaze. The betrayal and heartache stirring there, and I have my answer. Tears spring to my eyes before he says a word.
“We’ve fought about him before. Especially last time, when he gave me the black eye. I know she didn’t make him leave after that, but I thought… She told me she was afraid to leave him. He’s kinda crazy and she was afraid of what he might do. Plus, I know she’s afraid to be alone to begin with, but I told her I could protect her. I wouldn’t let him hurt her.”
I want to tell him that’s not his job, but he goes on before I even get a chance.
“Turns out she was just making excuses, though. When I came to tonight… I lost it. I was fucking pissed. I grabbed the phone to call the cops. I didn’t even have to be the one protecting her this time. He had done enough damage that there’s no way he would’ve been allowed near us after that, but… she took the phone and begged me not to call. I didn’t get it. I’m so stupid, I believed her. I really thought she just wouldn’t leave him because she was afraid to.”
“That might be part of it,” I say carefully, but I definitely don’t want to take her side. With a mother like mine, I legitimately cannot begin to comprehend how his stepdad isn’t sitting in a jail cell right now. If someone ever did to me what Hunter’s stepdad did to him, that man might be the one with his head smashed against a sink because my mom would never in a million years put up with it.
Hunter shakes his head, staring off into nothing. “No. She was finally honest tonight. She sat on the edge of my bed, crying her eyes out. Not because of what he did to me, but at the prospect of losing him.” He pauses, inhaling slowly. I don’t know if it hurts to breathe deeply because of his physical injuries, or if the rest of what he has to say is just that heavy on his heart.
Then he answers my question and breaks my heart in half, but I’m not mad about it. I know his is broken, too.
“She told me she just loves him so much,” he says, his voice strained. He pauses to clear his throat and swallow, looking down at his lap and shaking his head. “And I guess… I guess I must be pretty stupid, because I thought she loved me.”
Tear well up in my eyes again, and this time, they start to fall. I take a labored breath and throw my arms around Hunter again, burying my face in his shoulder and holding on tight. I’m not careful this time. I can’t be. I just want to hold him and never let him go. I want to move him into my house and let my mom take better care of him than his stupid mom does. We might not have money, but what we have is much more valuable.
“I’m so sorry, Hunter,” I whisper.
I feel him nod in acknowledgment, his grip on me tightening.
“You don’t deserve this,” I tell him. “Your mom should protect you. She should love you and keep you safe. That’s her job. If she isn’t able or willing to do that, the problem is with her, not with you. Please believe that.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbles, voice low. He’s still holding onto me so I don’t try to pull back.
“It does matter,” I say, wanting my disagreement to be firm despite the comfort I’m offering. I have no idea what to do in a situation like this, but I don’t ever want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault. I try to imagine what my mom would say to me in a position like this, but I can’t even get there mentally. I want to wake her up, because I’m sure she would know what to do, but Hunter needs me right now and I can’t bring myself to leave him.
He takes the cold compress off his eye and sets it down on the foot of my bed. He pulls away, so I start to lean back too, but before I can, his hand moves toward my face. He cradles it in one hand, his touch sending tremors or awareness shooting all through my body. The muscles in my legs even tauten, then a sensation stirs between them and startles the hell out of me.
My face heats up as Hunter guides me closer. My heart starts to pound as I realize he’s going to kiss me.
It’s definitely not how I envisioned my first kiss, but as we sit here on my bed in the dark, Hunter leans in and brushes his perfect lips against mine. It doesn’t matter that his is split open and probably tender; it doesn’t matter that I spent more time crying over him tonight than I’ve ever cried over any boy, and it doesn’t matter that the kiss is coming before the date. My expectations are completely obliterated, and this moment is so much more real than any I could have dreamed about.
I don’t feel nervous or self-conscious because of my own inexperience. I’m sure Hunter has probably kissed other girls before, but I know that none of them could ever measure up to what we have.
He doesn’t deepen the kiss, but even just softly brushing his lips against mine, he reaches deep and roots himself inside me. I feel it happening. My affection for him grows exponentially, hardens into something unbreakable. It’s like my heart knows that loving him will be hard, that I need to preserve all the tender, protective feelings I’m experiencing right now or we’ll never make it.
I save it all in my memory. His tender touch on my face, his soft lips on mine. I was so sad just a moment ago, but now I’m so happy I could float away.
Hunter pushes me back on the bed, but it feels so natural I don’t hesitate to let him. It feels good when he climbs on top of me, when he flattens me against the bed and buries his face in my neck.
Maybe a little too good. My senses soar as he kisses his way up and down my neck, my nerve endings all going absolutely nuts. My heart begins to race, my breaths coming a little more rapidly, and then Hunter’s hand covers my left breast and I come to my senses.
“Hunter, wait,” I say, pushing at him lightly.
He stops, hovering over me and looking down at me. He doesn’t say anything, but I’m struck by how beautiful he looks. Everything about him feels dark right now. It’s too dark to really see into his eyes, but I can feel their intensity when he looks down at me. His dark hair is disheveled and a little too long. I smile, reaching up and threading my fingers through the soft locks.
I don’t want to tell him he’s moving a little too fast for me or that I’m not ready, because I don’t even know if he was trying to do more than kiss me, but I know what I was feeling. I know if I let him kiss me for much longer, I won’t have the presence of mind to say no if he does.
He doesn’t push, though. Without a word, he absorbs my reluctance and dials it back, settling in the tenderness but not pushing for more. He leans down so that our bodies are pressed together again, but I don’t feel the need I felt a moment ago. He’s put it away, caged it to make me more comfortable.
I’m grateful. He presses his forehead against mine and steals one more sweet kiss, then he eases down on the bed beside me.
I carefully wrap an arm around his torso and curl up close to him. Neither of us says a word out loud, but it feels like we’re saying so much.
I’ve never felt so close to someone before.
“Was that okay?” he finally asks.
“Yes,” I assure him, resting my head against his arm. “More than okay.”
“Good.”
We lay there together for so long, I almost drift off. When I realize it, I force myself to move away from the welcoming warmth of his body and sit up on the bed.
I’m not sure he’s awake at first, but after I sit up, he slowly pulls himself up, too. I notice he makes a faint grunting sound as he does and presses a hand to his side.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.
Hunter nods wordlessly.
I lick my lips, then bite down on my lower one uncertainly. “Are there marks? I mean, other than the ones I can see.”
“I don’t know. Probably. I haven’t looked.”
“Maybe we should,” I tell him.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then he stands and tugs his hoodie off without another word. I watch in mild alarm as he drops his gray wrestling hoodie on the ground, then tugs off the white tee he was wearing underneath.
I skitter off the bed. It’s partially because he’s undressing in my bedroom, but I also need to turn on the light if I’m going to inspect his wounds.
We both grimace at the sudden brightness when I turn it on. I want to turn it back off, but the impulse fades and alarm takes hold of me when I get a good look at Hunter’s upper boy. He didn’t take his jeans off, but there are angry red welts all over his upper body. He’ll definitely have bruises.
My heart must be in my eyes when I look back at him, because his features suddenly darken and he snaps, “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“I’m not,” I say quickly, shaking my head.
“I’m fine,” he says, scowling.
“I know. I’m not feeling sorry for you, I just… I’m just mad. I’m mad that this happened. And yes, sad, but it’s not like that.”
Hunter sighs and looks off to the side in aggravation, then he grabs his T-shirt. “He’s such a prick. I hate that asshole.”
“So do I,” I assure him, watching as he starts to pull his shirt back on. “Wait. Why don’t you let me take pictures so you have proof? Just in case you ever need them. I have a phone now, I can take pictures and text them to you so you’ll have them. And if you ever need someone to testify on your behalf…”
He looks at me, a little guarded, but doesn’t say anything. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, but remember, Riley, you said you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
I did say that. It was the dumbest thing I have ever said, but I also said it when things were less perilous than they are now.
I don’t say that, though. I don’t want to fight with him, and I won’t be able to keep from getting angry if he protects his stupid mom again right now.
Nothing has to be decided tonight, but I do want to take the pictures. Tomorrow, when the angry red marks have turned to bruises, he can take more if he wants to, but we need to start a record that this abuse is happening. Even if he refuses to speak up right now, I want there to be evidence of this assault for him to use later if he changes his mind.
“You don’t have to use them right now,” I reiterate. “But I think it would be smart to have them in case you ever need to.”
He knows I’m right. He doesn’t look happy about it, but he drops his shirt on the ground and walks around the bed so he’s over by me again. “All right.”
My hands shake a little as I take my phone off charge. I open the camera app and photograph every mark on his upper body. They’re angry red marks, literal fingerprints from where his stepfather grabbed him and pushed him around. I take a picture of his face and then another picture closer up of the gash by his temple.
My sadness is renewed by the time I’m done with that dreadful photo shoot. I want to cry again, but I don’t this time. I’m just so sad that this happened, sad that his mom lets it happen. However she feels for the jerk who did this to him, she should love Hunter enough to put a stop to it. I don’t want to let him go back to his house. I want to keep him here and protect him.
He can see I’m distressed, so without even bothering to pull his shirts back on, he walks over and turns the lights back off, then he comes over and stops in front of me. He reaches down and takes my hand, twining our fingers together in the dark. “I can stay for a bit longer if you want me to.”
“I do,” I tell him, giving his hand a little squeeze.
This time he doesn’t kiss me, but we still climb on my bed together. I still curl up next to him and wrap my arm around his waist, only this time it’s bare. I am curious about his body. I’ve never been alone with a boy like this, after all. I don’t want to do anything, though, so I just rest my head on his shoulder and cuddle with him.
Despite the horrible circumstances, it’s amazing. I never dreamed I could feel so comfortable with a guy in a situation like this. Only the thin fabric of my tank top prevents us from lying here with no clothing between our upper bodies. But I am comfortable. I feel like I’m right where I belong.
“I can’t believe I was mad at you earlier,” I tell him, mildly annoyed with myself. “It never even crossed my mind that something like this could have happened to you.”
At least he sounds lightly amused and not offended. “I wouldn’t expect it to. Besides, I still disappointed you. I didn’t mean to, didn’t want to, but… I did.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” I tell him, tilting my head back to look up at him.
“So am I.”
“You don’t have to be,” I argue.
“Neither do you.”
I smile, snuggling him close again. “I like you.”
He chuckles. “I like you, too.”
I close my eyes and soak up the moment, knowing it can’t last and not knowing where any of this will go. The obstacles we both face won’t disappear with the morning light just because our bond grew tonight. Tomorrow I’ll wake up to a mother who not only refuses to let me date him, but who thinks he stood me up tonight and who won’t understand—or believe—that he had a good reason. When we’re done cuddling here in the safety of my room, Hunter will have to cover up his injuries and head back to his house where he doesn’t have even the most basic assurance of safety.
There are big issues at play here, big obstacles that will make this hard, but I don’t care about any of that right now. All I care about is the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, the reassuring beat of his heart. The comfort we can draw from each other here and now that will help us get through it all.
Chapter Ten
“WHAT THE FUCK?”
I fade in and out of consciousness as the world shifts beneath me. I’m groggy, struggling to separate myself from the dream I was just lost in. My su
dden jarring ascent back to reality has me momentarily disoriented.
What is happening?
My mom’s voice again, louder this time. “Get out of my house!”
“Shit.”
My mom screaming didn’t entirely make sense, but my blood runs cold at the sound of Hunter’s voice. Hunter and my mom in the same room. My bedroom.
Oh crap.
Oh my god, we fell asleep.
“Mom,” I slur, shaking my head as I sit up, trying to pull it together.
“You, not a word,” she says, pointing at me, her eyes flashing with anger. “You.” She points at Hunter, even as he stumbles over and grabs his clothing. “Get out of my house and don’t come back.”
“Mom, it’s not what it looks like.”
“He’s not wearing clothes!”
“Yes he is, he’s just not wearing a shirt…” I trail off, looking over at him. He is wearing clothes now. He got the T-shirt on in record time, but instead of looking at me, he’s looking at my mom, his expression guarded.
“Get out,” she says again, her eyes wide.
Hunter spares me a glance, but he doesn’t stick around to defend himself. He darts past my mom without a word.
I feel bad, but I know he probably has to get home, too. When I get in trouble, my mom says stern things to me. When he gets in trouble, it’s much worse.
Oh, no. How mad will his mom and stepdad be? Surely after what happened last night, Hunter should be safe today… right?
Oh God, what if he’s not? What if he gets in so much trouble for not coming home last night that something bad happens?
Not even taking into account the fact that my harmless mother is about to blow up, I grab my phone and quickly type out a text to Hunter asking him to let me know that everything is all right after he gets home.
“What are you thinking?” Mom demands, staring at me like I’m an unfathomable creature. “He stood you up last night, Riley. He couldn’t even be bothered to show up for a movie date and you jump into bed with—” She cuts herself off, running her fingers through her dark hair in aggravation. “Please, please tell me you were at least safe. I cannot believe I have to say this to my 14-year-old daughter. My god, I have failed. I have failed as a mother.”
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