My eyes fall on the vein, becoming more pronounced in the middle of his forehead like he's physically holding himself back. His hands clench so hard his fingers start popping in rapid succession, making me flinch at the sound.
He steps forward, having had enough. I step back ... and my foot hits a piece of discarded clothing, causing it to slip out from underneath me and my body to flail backward.
In all my haste to get away from him earlier, I unknowingly put myself right beside his bed. And now, I fall right on top of it, my breath slipping through my lips with an oosh sound.
I'm vulnerable, wide open for an attack.
An opening he gladly pounces on.
He's right there, taking advantage of my mistake. Within seconds, Hunter is straddling my waist with both knees on either side of me. He has one hand wrapped around my throat and another holding my hands above my head.
The look he gives me nearly melts the flesh off my bones. He looks like he wants to rip my heart out of my chest and eat it for dinner.
Tightening his grip around my throat, a little part inside my brain starts misfiring. Even though I know he's not cutting off my air supply, I can't stop my hips from bucking upward as I try to fight for freedom. My mouth falls open on a breathless gasp.
Hunter leans toward me until his chest is pressed flat against mine, and his lips are a whisper away from my ear. "You promised no lies."
"I ... never lied." I grunt.
"Lying by omission is still lying." He presses a kiss against the sensitive spot under my ear and barely lightens his hold on my neck. "You are going to stay here while I get dressed. And then you're taking me to see your son."
My entire body goes cold, and the only thing I can seem to focus on isn’t the fact he knows about Maverick. No. That doesn’t even seem to register on my scale of fucked.
Instead, it’s the pain that comes a heartbeat later when I really think about his words.
Your son …
"H-How do you know …" My stomach flips with nerves. Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick.
His grin is on full throttle. "I know a lot of things, but for this particular secret, a little birdie told me. Now, let me see ... " He taps his sculpted chin with a lone finger as he peers off into space like he's searching for the right thing to say. Whatever they are, I know instantly, they're not going to be good. It'll probably be the nail in my coffin.
"I believe the words were: my family needs to do the right thing. I have a duty. Oh …" He returns his gaze to mine, heat, and anger clinging to every word. "And that you've been doing this all alone since the beginning."
Fucking ... "Duncan," I spit his name out like a curse.
Between one heartbeat and the next, Hunter explodes. I mean, completely loses his ever-loving mind. I can't help but cower away from the anger riddling his voice. "Whose fault is that, huh?! She's been doing it alone," he mocks sarcastically. "Of course, you've been doing shit alone because you never told anyone anything!
"How could you keep him from his family, Harloe?! I may have treated you like shit there at the end, but we take care of our own. We’ve missed years of that boy’s life, and for what? Because I was an asshole? Bullshit!"
He takes me off guard by getting all in my face, placing his closed fists beside my thighs. I've never seen so much violence and malice swirling in someone's eyes before, but Hunter—he'd make the devil weep as he asked for forgiveness.
"You will take me to see him, Lo. It's about time he met some of his family." Hunter smiles, his expression morphing into malevolence.
Some of his... He's missed... I crane my head to the side. "Hunter," I lick my lips, noticing the way his eyes drop to the movement before rising. "Who do you think his dad is?"
Without missing a beat, he replies, "You know exactly who I'm talking about. He's the only obvious choice."
I try to breathe past the pain rocking through my core. Looking into his eyes, I see the truth right there, out for the entire world to see. Even after telling him I never slept with Owen, he still believes I did. And with Maverick here, that adds to the proof his brother apparently has.
"I never slept with your brother," I groan out, tired of the same song and dance.
He stares at me hard. "Then how is there a little boy, Harloe? We never fucked without some form of contraceptive.”
Tears build in my eyes. "You're never going to believe a word I say, so why even bother?"
A sense of finality rests in my words. No matter how many times I try to prove my innocence, Hunter will only see things one way—his. Doesn't matter what I do, how many times I explain myself, he won't care.
So, why should I?
Shaking my head, I allow everything I'm feeling—anger, sadness, betrayed—to slide out of my body like rain down a windowpane. There's no use in it. Instead of helping me, it would only cause me to harbor a senseless grudge that’ll suck the very life out of my body.
"You know what ... I don't even care anymore," I say, and my defeated tone makes Hunter stop and really look at me. "No matter what I tell you, you're going to believe what you want. No matter what kind of proof I shove down your throat, you will never say Maverick is yours. You automatically assume he's the product of a fling with your brother. So, whatever ... do what you want."
"What are you saying?" He backtracks from the bed like I physically wounded him instead of the other way around. His eyes flick between mine, trying his best to read my mind, but it's useless.
My mind is a dark place to frolic, even for someone like Hunter.
Meeting his eyes, I release an exasperated huff of air at the sight of his confusion. All the need and fight is gone. Fixing my shirt, I slide off the bed and stand just in front of him. It hurts to be this close to him and see the doubt in his eyes, but I know I need to do this.
"If you don't believe me, then that's your problem. I'm through fighting over it. And my son doesn't need that kind of negativity, either. Yes, what I did was wrong. Keeping him from you and your family wasn't a wise decision. But can’t you see the reason I did it? This, right here, is exactly why.”
"Harloe, that's still no excuse—" He tries to butt in, but I put my hand up to stop him. This isn't his time to talk. It's mine. And I'm finally going to make sure my voice is heard.
"You don't want to be his dad?" I ask, my body filling with determination. "Then go back to pretending I don't exist. That's one of the things you're best at, anyway."
Stepping past him, I make my way out of the room. He doesn't follow, doesn't even try to stop me from leaving. All the while, my heart feels like it's shattering for the second time inside my chest. Little pieces are sticking to every vital organ, slicing and dicing, making me bleed from the inside out.
Everything hurts—my heart, my head, my lungs from not being able to breathe.
Making my out of the hallway, I come face-to-face with three solemn expressions. Easton can't even look me in the eye. No loss there.
Zeke won't look away like he knows what went down, and he's known about it for quite some time. I narrow my eyes at him, holding my breath to keep from huffing and puffing like an angry beast.