“What the hell is he doing here?”
11
Hunter
Coming home was always a crapshoot as to what I’d be walking in on. Sabrina wandering around in a tank top and shorts that barely covered her ass. Sabrina walking out of her room hot and sweaty with a random guy. Sabrina watching TV with her legs propped up on the coffee table. All of it was bad and made focusing difficult, but nothing had stoked the flames of my anger like the scene I walked in on.
Sabrina and Ryder sitting at the table with snacks and a puzzle, making themselves at home—my home. After I’d explicitly told her not to let him in here.
“Out, now.” I clenched my teeth so hard it felt like I’d been chewing concrete on the way up.
Sabrina shot up and walked around the table. “Hunter—”
“I said, get the hell out of my house.” My voice boomed so loudly they both jumped. I whipped my arm out, pointing to the front door, barely able to stomach the domestic scene I’d walked in on. My heart pounded so fast it felt like it was skipping beats.
“Hunter—”
“Now.” The word came out half growl, half bark.
Ryder jumped up and grabbed the half a sandwich left on his plate. With a mumbled, “Thanks, Sabrina,” he walked through the kitchen to avoid me and out the front door. Nice to know he’d acquainted himself with my house.
The door slammed, leaving me and Sabrina. Alone.
She stood and gathered up the plates with a look of glaring disappointment on her face.
It felt like a pair of knuckles were pressed into my sternum.
None of this was my fault.
She’d gone directly against my wishes, almost like she was testing me on purpose. I was too tired for this shit.
I headed her off and blocked her path to the kitchen.
With two plates in her hands, she peered up at me, her lips pressed in a grim line.
“What did we talk about a few days ago?”
She tilted her head. “How grumpy you are in the morning?”
“I told you I didn’t want him here.”
“What was I supposed to do when he showed up?” She shrugged like she’d been forced to bring him up here at gunpoint.
“Tell him to leave just like I do.”
“Have you wondered why he keeps coming here?”
“I don’t care.”
“Maybe you should. He’s your brother—”
“He’s not my brother,” I snapped.
She jumped and one of the crusts on the plate fell to the floor. “You have the same dad. That makes you brothers.”
“Half-brothers at best, and our dad’s dead, so why pretend we have a connection?” My jaw clenched, frustration rising. This conversation was pointless. It was the same one I’d had with Ryder. With Leo, Everest, Jameson, and August. Why was everyone so dead set on me pretending he was anything more to me than what he was? A stranger.
Her shoulders dropped, her whole body shifting from high alert to something softer. “I didn’t know your dad died. How long ago?”
I looked over her shoulder, staring off into the distance, trying to rein in the avalanche of rage that filled me whenever I thought about him. “A few months ago.” Right around the time the nightmares came back. “It’s not a big deal. I hadn’t seen him in almost fifteen years, and I didn’t plan on seeing him ever again. He’s been dead to me a long time.”
“Well, he hadn’t been for Ryder.” She licked her lips and searched my face. “Maybe that’s the reason he’s here. He’s looking for someone to be there for him. An older brother who knows what he’s going through.”
“Then he needs to find another apartment to haunt because that’s not me. He has no idea what I went through when my dad left me and my mom. So no, I don’t want to be his shoulder to cry on while he tells me how much he misses the dad who fucked me and my mom over. I’ll never forgive my dad for not being there when she died.” My chest burned, breath singed, and I hated how close to the surface all this felt. Sleeping had become my nightmare, and it was screwing with my head. Why else would I be here, spilling my guts to Sabrina instead of leaving?
She turned around and set the plates on the table. “I’m sorry you lost your mom too.” Her voice was gentle, quiet, soothing. “How long ago did your mom die?”
My tight jaw loosened. Now it was hard to speak, not because of the clench of my teeth but from the emotions clogging my throat. I tried to clear the tightness, but it wouldn’t budge. All the memories of her tinged with a sadness that would never go away. “Fifteen years ago.”
Her eyes widened. “He’d have been three, Hunter. And I’m sure he’s sorry about your mom too.”
I leaned in, trying and failing to hold the rising tide of anguish threatening to swamp me. “I don’t care. My dad was cheating on my mom for over three years and left when she got cancer. Ryder’s mom showed up at our house with him while my dad was putting all his things in the back of the car and telling me it was all too much for him.”
“How old were you?” she whispered.
“Thirteen. So I was there for her while my dad ran off and played house with the new family he’d started already.”
Her face was filled with both shock and sadness. She stepped forward and reached out to me in jerky movements, like she was telling herself not to the whole time. Lavender invaded my nose even more strongly than it did whenever my thoughts drifted to her.
Her hand touched just above my elbow before sliding down in equally stilted movements.
The touch of her fingers on my arm even through my sleeves sent pulses along my skin. Deep, welling feelings picked up speed and turned into a greedy need.
I wanted to grab her. Hold onto both her arms and slam my lips against hers. Instead I locked my body.
Her gentle skim met my skin. My wrists under my cuffs and then the heel of my hand before my palm. Her fingers slid against my palm, her thumb settling on the back of my hand. “I can’t imagine how that felt, and I’m sorry you were on your own. Where was Barbara?”
The tightness in my throat made it hard to breathe. “Australia with my grandfather.” I swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump to get the words out. “He’d had a stroke while they were on vacation. It took a long time to get him stable enough to fly him back.”
Her fingers tightened around my hand. “Did she get to see your mom?”
My pulse thundered against her hold. I cleared my throat. “Every other week. She flew back as much as she could.” GiGi had been dead on her feet most of the time she’d visited. Trying to take care of two family members a world apart had come at a price to her. It was part of the reason she couldn’t come back to this apartment. It held too many memories of her and Grandpa, but she couldn’t bring herself to let it go. The renovations that had taken place over the years under the guise of selling it had been for my benefit.
“How long did she do that?”
“Until my mom died. She was at stage four when they discovered the cancer. She only made it through one round of chemo. Eight weeks from diagnosis to her death.” I struggled to keep my voice even, not letting through a single crack. It had all happened so quickly, too quickly for me to process then. Too quickly even now. No matter how old I was, the second-guessing was always there. And the worry lingered for anyone close to me. Two months. Two weeks. Two seconds. Anyone could be snatched away.