“I helped you hide under the bushes when the farmer came looking for you,” I recall aloud wistfully. “I still can’t believe he bought my story.”
“I can. With a face like yours, you could sell anything. I really felt like you had materialized out of thin air to save my ass,” he chuckles. The waiter comes back over and we both order: a steak and fries for Hunter, some random chicken dish for me. I’ve hardly even glanced at the menu. The food doesn’t even register on my radar at the moment, even though I’m definitely hungry. All that matters to me right now is the gorgeous man in front of me. He asks me so many questions about myself and, unlike some people who only ask you questions so they can then talk about themselves, I can tell that he genuinely wants to know. He’s curious about me, about the life I’ve led since we were ripped apart. But one thing he pointedly does not ask about is Flora. I haven’t told him she’s his child, and he doesn’t ask. Not yet, at least.
I decide to steer the conversation back to him. After all, I’m curious, too.
“So, what happened to you after we-- after my parents separated us?” I ask, taking a bite of my chicken. It’s pretty damn delicious, but not as delicious as Hunter.
“Well,” he begins with a heavy sigh, “I spent a lot of time looking for you. Nobody told me where you went. And as I’m sure you remember, I didn’t have a whole lot of friends or allies in that town. My reputation wasn’t the cleanest, and your folks made everybody promise to keep quiet about where they took you. I tried to track you down, Blossom. I really tried. But it was like you just disappeared into thin air. I couldn’t understand it.”
“Have you been there all this time?” I ask, leaning forward with sharpened interest.
He shakes his head. “No. I got into some legal trouble back home-- nothing intriguing, just some dumb bullshit, to be honest. But by then, I was ready to leave anyway. You were the only thing keeping me there, and once you were gone, well, there was no reason for me to stay. So I finally stopped moping around and got myself together. I started my career. It was slow-going at first. I never really had anyone to help me, and I was too stubborn to ask for help, anyway. But after a while it took off, and I’ve been doing it ever since. I never stopped looking for you, though. Even in the smallest ways. So many times I thought I saw you in a crowd somewhere, only to find out it was a trick of the light or something. I just want you to know, Blossom, that even though I’ve changed in a lot of ways, my feelings for you remain the same as they ever were.”
“I looked for you, too,” I murmur sadly. “Everywhere. But I didn’t have a lot of freedom back then. Almost none at all, actually. My parents...they were so angry with me for disobeying them. I’m sure you can remember how I used to vent to you all the time about how strict and overbearing they were. Sage and I, we felt like prisoners in our own home most of the time. Sage was braver than me. She used to sneak out our bedroom window at night to meet up with friends. With boys. She’s always been able to keep her cool under pressure. But as for me, I was always the perfect child. Quiet. Obedient. Helpful. I spent most of my time helping my mom cook and clean, going to church choir practice. I was a soprano and all that,” I add with a sheepish smile.
“I remember,” Hunter says, beaming at me. “I was never a church-goer myself, but I snuck into the back pew one Sunday just to hear you sing. I don’t know if you saw me there, but it was the time when you got that solo hymn. You were so nervous when you told me about it, I knew I couldn’t miss it. So I stood in the back, half-hiding behind that big velvet curtain, and I watched you do that hymn by yourself.”
“Did you really?” I gasp, clapping a hand over my mouth as my face blushes bright pink. “I had no idea! The lights were so bright I could hardly see past the front two pews, much less all the way to the back. Oh, I was so nervous and it was so hot in that chapel. I thought I was going to faint in the middle of my solo.”
“But you didn’t. You were beautiful. You were perfect, Blossom. I remember thinking to myself, ‘Wow, not only does she look like an angel but she sounds like one, too,’” Hunter tells me softly. “I knew I was in love with you. I’d never been in love before, and I never thought it would happen to me, but damn. It happened. You happened.”
As I sit here staring at his handsome, adoring face in the mood lighting, I think to myself that it’s impossible. It’s impossible that this man, my white-lilac prince, could have anything to do with the murder in Ithaca. It’s absurd to even consider it. All of this, every bit and piece, is one huge, beautiful coincidence. Fate brought me here. I thought it was to kick-start my podcast, but really, it was to bring me back to Hunter.
“So, if you’re living in Albany, then what brings you here to Ithaca?” he asks. I detect some slight suspicion in his voice, but I dismiss it. Surely, that’s not accurate. What reason would he have to suspect my intentions?
“Well,” I begin, “I’m kind of here to do some light crime reporting. You know, about that murder that happened here recently. I know I’m just some starry-eyed civilian, but I wanted a chance to get my feet wet. Feel it out. Maybe take some photos and inspire myself to finally start up that podcast. I don’t know how yet, but I want to be the one to break this case wide open. I know, I know, it’s awfully ambitious. But I want to try.”
He nods, looking thoughtful for a moment as the first silence of the day settles in between us. It’s not an uncomfortable quiet, though. Just an easy, natural comfortable quiet as we eat dinner and sip wine. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he looks up at me with a meaningful look on his handsome face, and my heart skips a beat. I know he’s about to say something important, even if I don’t know what. I set down my fork and knife and look at him expectantly.
“I’m not sure how to phrase this, Blossom, so I’m just going to come right out and ask you: Flora… is she… is she mine?” Hunter asks in a soft, lowered voice.
I feel butterflies stirring in my chest. There’s no sense in dancing around the subject anymore. He’s here, I’m here, and I can deny him nothing. So I simply smile warmly, nod, and answer him. “Yes, Hunter. She’s your daughter.”
Hunter
I should have known trying to get any sleep tonight was going to be useless. I turn my naked body over in the sheets and try to keep my eyes clenched shut, but my mind keeps racing. I’m past the point of being able to lull myself into a relaxed state. My thoughts run fast and get scattered, so much so that I feel disoriented doing nothing. It’s frustrating, and it leaves me tossing and turning with nothing but the sounds of the quiet hooting of owls outside.
Knowing that Blossom is just a few feet away from me in the other room doesn’t help.
I had rented a cabin in the woods outside Ithaca when I first got here-- not the same woods as those where I killed my victim, of course. It has two bedrooms, so when I found out that Blossom and the girls have been staying in hotels night to night, how could I not offer them the space? The more time I spend with them, the more I want to get the know them. I want to reconnect with Blossom, even though I know it’s the last thing any of us need in our lives.
And I alone know that, which makes it even more painful.
Eventually, I realize that there’s no use just thrashing in bed for hours on end. I push the sheets off me and swing my thick legs out of bed, standing up and pulling on a pair of comfortable pants and a shirt to pull over my muscles. I open the door so quietly that it’s almost soundless, and I slowly make my way out to the porch, being just as quiet.
Outside, I’m treated to a beautiful view of Cayuga Lake. The porch is just a few feet from the water’s edge, and a full moon basks the glimmering waters in a trail of silver light leading northward. The moment I’m outside in the cool air, I feel a sense of calm come over me.
It’s strange, this isn’t the kind of environment where I thought I’d feel at home. In some ways, it’s troubling. The stillness and dark beauty of the night draws me in and captivates me, and I know that when I move through the world
in these late hours, I’m invincible. This is when I operate, and this is where I hunt.
But being so close to Blossom again after so many years is like being close to my old self. I’m feeling things I haven’t felt in five years, and the boy I was back then doesn’t feel comfortable shoulder-to-shoulder with the man I am now. On bare feet, I stride to the edge of the porch and slowly sit down, letting my legs hang off the edge as I stare out onto the waters. Every now and then, I see a fish jump. Off in the far distance, I can see a deer cautiously stepping out and looking around before taking a drink from the icy waters.
I hear another hoot from an owl. In the bottom of my heart, I know I have more in common with that owl than any majestic prey of the woods like the deer or the fish. It’s a lonely feeling I have a hard time confronting, if I’m honest.
I helped bring a child into the world.
The thought makes my mind go still for several long moments as I stare out onto the waters. It’s the first time I’ve let it really cross my mind since Blossom told me. Shortly after Blossom answered my question, she got a call from Sage, letting us know the movie was over and Flora was eager to see her mommy. There was something touching about listening to that conversation that was only made more meaningful by the news I’d just gotten. I sat there stunned for longer than I realized. What else could I do? We left in a hurry to go collect them, and we haven’t had a chance to speak since then.
I grip the wooden planks with my strong hands, giving them a squeeze, and my thoughts start to come to me one by one.
Could these killer’s hands hold a child?
I start to feel the weight of my actions on my shoulders and my conscience. I know for a fact that many of the men I’ve killed have themselves been parents. Does that make things better or worse? Every person I’ve killed has been scum. The abusive bastard I killed most recently was no exception. I remind myself that I’ve never doubted that the world is a better place without the people I remove from it. But that doesn’t make the act of killing less meaningful.
Over time, I came to think of myself as a predator in the same way the owl is. It doesn’t think about right and wrong, doesn’t get burdened by the guilt of snatching mice and fish from their families. It acts according to its nature. That’s what I do.
That’s what I tell myself, at least. But now that there’s a child involved…
For the past few moments, I have felt someone’s eyes watching me, and the sound of the creaking screen door confirms my suspicions. The soft footsteps I hear coming toward me are heavier than Flora’s would be.
“How long have you been watching me?” I ask Blossom mildly as she appears at my side, slowly sitting down next to me and letting her nearly-bare legs dangle beside mine. I turn to look at her, and my heart skips a beat. Her makeup is off, her hair is loose, and she’s wearing just an oversized gray t-shirt and black shorts.
“Long enough to know you’ve gotten a lot more pensive over the years,” she says, smiling. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”
“No,” I say, chuckling, and I put my hands on the porch to prop myself up as I lean back. “You sound about as surprised as I am.”
“I’m sorry we had to run so soon after...after dropping a bombshell like that,” she says in a low tone. But I shake my head, dismissing her worries.
“No, don’t worry about that. It gave me some time to think about it.”
“And what do you think about it?” she asks. I turn to look at her face, and I see her blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight. She looks downright ethereal. I want to grab her and kiss her, push her down onto the porch floor and feel her in all the ways I’ve craved over the years.
But I can’t. For so many reasons, I can’t.
“I don’t know,” I admit, chuckling at myself, and she smiles.
“That’s what I said when I found out I was pregnant,” she says. Those words hit me like an arrow to the heart.
“I wish I could have been there for you.” I take her hand in mine as the honest words spill out of my mouth in a thick, husky tone. “If I’d had any idea…”
“There was no way you could have known,” she says, shaking her head and giving me a loving, forgiving smile. That doesn’t help the burden I feel, but it’s nice to know she doesn’t blame me. I’m slient for a few moments before speaking again.
“What happened?” I ask at last. “When you left, I mean.”
“I didn’t leave,” she says quietly, turning to stare out at the lake. The deer at the far end has run off, leaving an empty field of water for us to stare at vacantly. “They took me.”
“Your parents?”
“Yeah. You know what they’re like.”
I frown, furrowing my brow and feeling anger rise up in my heart. Blossom’s parents are easily the most controlling people I’ve ever known. My own parents were as neglectful as they were abusive, but Blossom dealt with a completely different kind of controlling parents. They did everything they could to keep us apart, and they made it very clear that even when she became an adult, they weren’t ready to let her out of their claws.
“I always wondered if they were part of it,” I say ruefully.
“They weren’t just a part of it, they were all of it,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “As soon as they found out I was pregnant, they knew it was yours. They dragged Sage and me to Albany with them pretty much immediately. Dad already had a job offer on the table he was planning to turn down, but I guess this was just what he needed to give him a push,” she adds with a scowl as she stares out at the water. I shake my head.
“What a bastard.” I pause for a few long moments, looking down at the water. “Thanks for letting me know. It’s fucked up to say, but I think part of me hoped it was like that. Not the fact that it happened, but the fact that it was your parents’ decision. But when I didn’t hear anything for so long…”
“I had no way to reach out to you, Hunter,” she says, turning to me and locking gazes with me, making me look into those pleading eyes. “Don’t you think I would have if I had half a chance? I desperately wanted to get a letter out to you, a text, a call, anything. But they put me in one of those...those nunnery places, a big compound where they put ‘problem girls’ who are pregnant and unmarried. I was in there with a bunch of other girls whose parents were ashamed of them, and the nuns handled all our mail. Nothing got past them. Some of the girls and I even had a deal with one of the delivery men to smuggle some mail out, but he got caught at the last minute.”
She falls silent, and I realize there are tears in her eyes. I reach for her face and gently wipe it away, and she looks at me.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that at all, much less alone,” I say.
“I had Sage,” she said, sniffing. “Sort of. She came to visit as much as my parents would let her. And she was always pushing for it. That meant a lot to me. But by the time they let her come see me without them being there so I could beg her to write to you, you must have moved. She said her letters got returned.”
“When I thought you were gone forever, I moved up to Maine to find work,” I explain, feeling my heart sink. “I had to. Job opportunities in Albany were…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Hunter,” she says, almost laughing, and when I look at her, I see that she’s smiling wistfully. “Life tore us apart, plain and simple. We’re not the only people that’s happened to.”
“That doesn’t mean we can be okay with it,” I say.
“Not okay with it, no,” she agrees, and she strokes my hand with her thumb, looking at how well it fits in my bigger one. “But at peace with it, maybe. I don’t know. I...I’ve given it a lot of thought, but Flora made all the difference.”
I smile, and I feel warmth all over my body. It’s silly, but knowing that Flora was a source of comfort rather than pain felt very good to me.
“It was like having a piece of you with me, in some ways,” she says. “Not entirely, of course. She’s her own pe
rson. She had a personality even she was a baby,” she laughs. “But she looks so much like you, Hunter. I know you saw that the first time you laid eyes on her.”
“I saw it, but I didn’t want to let myself think it.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” she says, nodding. “Hell, I had nine whole months to take it in before it happened. I wish I’d been able to give you more of a heads up, but…”
“Don’t you blame yourself for anything,” I say firmly. “Only you know what’s best for you, and you did that.”
She smiles at me for a long time before continuing.
“Flora was my rock in more ways than one. As soon as she was born, I just left. My parents couldn’t legally stop me, all they could do was try to cut off my exit. But I was good at keeping my intentions hidden. Played good girl for a hot minute, then changed bank accounts, got a burner phone, and moved across the city. I would have left the city entirely if I could have, but I wasn’t going to leave Sage behind like that.”
“Is she with you full-time now?”
She nods.
“As soon as Sage turned eighteen, she moved in with me. Since then, it’s been night after night of just gushing about how much hell we went through together. It’s been...weirdly therapeutic, actually. For her as well as me.”
“That’s great,” I breathe. “That kind of support is priceless.” I sure as hell wish I had more than just my own thoughts to consume me in the darkest places. Then again, that loneliness is what shaped me into the man I am now.
Is that something to be proud of, or not?
“It really is-- both for her and for me,” she says, nodding. “I don’t know what I would have done without her.”
“She looks up to you,” I say. “I can tell. And she’s lucky to have such a good role model.”
“Yeah, nothing says ‘responsibility’ like dragging your kid sister and daughter around the state chasing a tip about a serial killer who’s still at large.”
Hunter’s Baby Page 5