The Hastings Series

by Vanessa Siena

  “Great,” I muttered and crouched down to pick up the broken glass.

  “You’ll hurt yourself.” Hunter came down beside me, reaching for my hands to push them away. I pulled back and squeezed the piece of glass in my hand a bit too tightly. I felt a sharp sting and blood started to drip down the palm of my hand.

  “Told you. Move.”

  I stood and stared down at him. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just let me do it.”

  “I said move.” He nudged my thigh with his elbow, trying to get me away from the glass. “Go put some ice on that.”

  I finally moved away from him. “We don’t have ice.”

  Letting the water run in the sink, I held my injured hand underneath the cold stream. It wasn’t a bad cut and nothing got stuck in the wound. But it still hurt.

  My blood was boiling from anger. How could he be so insensitive?

  I didn’t move. I just watched and waited for the water in the sink to turn from red to white. I heard Hunter picking up the pieces and throwing them in the trashcan.

  “Let me see.” Suddenly, he was standing right behind me, turning the water off and taking my hand in his. He held it up and looked at it, then took an old kitchen towel sitting next to us on the counter and pressed it against my wound.

  “You won’t need stitches.”

  “Oh, good.” I sighed. I was annoyed. Why would he even care if I hurt myself? “I can do it myself.”

  “Where are the Band-Aids?” he asked instead. My brows narrowed.

  “I said I can do it myself.”

  Instead of listening, he took my other hand and pressed it against the towel, gesturing for me to keep pressing down. He started to open all the cabinets, looking for the first aid kit.

  “Hunter…” I tried to stop him. “Did you hear me?” But nothing.

  I called his name once more, but he still ignored me and opened some more drawers.

  “Hunter!” I finally shouted and he froze.

  Turning around slowly, I was not expecting him to look at me that way. His eyes were dark and he had a deep fold between his eyebrows. He looked scary as hell.

  Suddenly, I didn’t feel so confident anymore. I took a step back because I was terrified he was going to do something bad.

  He took two steps toward me, not taking his eyes off of me. “Did you just shout at me?”

  I swallowed and tried to back up even more. The kitchen counter was preventing me from doing so, though.

  “Answer me.” He took one last step before he stopped right in front of me. His face was inches away from mine and I could smell his breath. A mix of beer and cigarettes.

  “I-I didn’t mean to—” I started to say but he cut me off.

  He laughed. “Of course you didn’t.”

  I lowered my head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He was scaring me. Not sure if he did it on purpose, but it wasn’t a great feeling. His left hand came up, cupping my neck and lifting my head so I made eye contact with him once again.

  “I was trying to be nice to you, sweetheart, and then you go and shout at me?” One of his eyebrows rose and my body started to feel all types of tingly. I was nervous. The way his hand was gripping my neck was terrifying. I started to breathe faster, hoping he wouldn’t squeeze any harder.

  Was he enjoying this? And he sure changed his attitude faster than lightning.

  He was probably waiting for me to apologize. But why would I? He was being a pain in the ass by not answering or listening to me. So how am I the bad guy in this situation? Why was he angry with me?

  “If you talk to me like that ever again, I will not hesitate. Understood?” I nodded. And now he’s threatening me? I wonder what Jagger would say to all of this.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally said.

  He nodded, then let go of me, taking a step back again. “Now, tell me where you keep your first aid kit.”

  And just like that, all of his anger was gone. He was back to being the emotionless asshole he was before.

  But who am I kidding? I like him better emotionless than angry.

  Chapter Four

  Harlow

  It was almost midnight when Jagger came back home. After Hunter patched up my wounded hand, we sat down on the couch in silence and watched TV. No one said a word. It was awkward. Well, for me it was. Not so sure about Mr. Bipolar over there. I was afraid he would snap from one moment to the next and start shouting at me again.

  The way he grabbed me back in the kitchen made me realize that I couldn’t trust him. He almost choked me, gripping my neck a little too hard. I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me badly. Not when Jagger could get home any second.

  I looked over to the front door and let out a relieved breath I was keeping in the whole time. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded and locked the door, then walked over to us. “All good,” he said, looking over at Hunter. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Hunter nodded once and turned his gaze back to the TV. My brother smiled at me and ran his hand through my hair once. “Go to bed, yeah? You got work tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “Good night, Jag.”

  “Night, Low.” With that, he bent down, kissing my head like he always does, and then walked down the small hallway to his room.

  My eyes were on Hunter as soon as Jagger closed his door. He wasn’t really interested in me. Good. Not that I wanted to get any more shit from him and his personality disorder.

  I got up and went to pour myself a glass of water. I thought about just leaving him there and going to my room to sleep. But he didn’t have pillows or a blanket for the night.

  On one hand, I knew I wasn’t rude enough to just not care about him sleeping on the couch and probably freeze at night. On the other, I wished I was stubborn enough to go through with it and not be nice.

  I drank the water and put the glass in the sink. Turning, I walked past the couch and into my room. I took one of the two blankets on my bed and grabbed a pillow too. Going back to the living room, I placed them on the empty space next to him. “You’ll need this. The heater turns off at midnight. It won’t be warm in here until the sun comes up again.”

  Hunter glanced up at me as if it was the most natural thing that I would bring him a blanket and pillow. “Okay.”

  I raised an eyebrow and let out a fake laugh. “That’s all? Just okay? No thank you, Harlow? God, you’re a dick.”

  Shaking my head, I turned and stomped to my room. I was probably overreacting. But could he be even more unkind? I should have said no when Jagger said that he would stay here for the night. Why can’t I just open my mouth for once and speak my thoughts?

  Lying in bed, I stared up at the ceiling, thinking about my not-so-strong attitude. I had to get my shit together and defend myself. I couldn’t go on with my life and let people tell me how to act or what to say. Even if it was only Hunter who was making me upset and angry, I didn’t want to deal with these feelings. I hated them.

  So many thoughts ran through my mind. I was ready to confront him and tell him that he shouldn’t treat me that poorly. But I’m probably overanalyzing it all.

  Getting more and more tired, I started to drift off and fall asleep entirely.

  The next morning I was up early. The diner opened daily at seven, so I had to be there at six to prepare the waffle and pancake mix and wash the fruits for the breakfast rush. I took a quick shower and put on my uniform. It was short, almost not covering up my behind, which made me uncomfortable most of the time when I walked back behind the counter after taking an order or bringing food to the table. I knew people would stare. I’ve seen them stare at Adeline. She’s a college student at Hastings College too. But unlike me, she liked being stared at while working.

  I put on my white Converse and walked out of my bedroom. Knowing Hunter would still be sleeping, I tried to be as quiet as possible. But much to my surprise, as I turned the corner he was sitting on the couch fully clothed.

  “You ready?” he asked.

>   “For what?”

  “Work. I’ll drive you.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Come on. I got places to be before your brother wakes up.” He got up and walked toward the front door. So he was driving me to work? God, this man is unpredictable.

  “You know you don’t have to. I can walk. I like walking,” I said, not moving my feet.

  “Walking the streets of Hastings in that outfit will either get you kidnapped or raped. Or both.” His voice was monotonous, as if he didn’t even care about what he just said.

  “How charming. But I’ve walked the streets of Hastings for a while now in this outfit and nothing has ever happened.”

  His eyes shot in my direction and I mentally prepared for an unnecessary comment from him. “Move. Or I swear to God I will take you over my shoulder and walk you out of this damn house.”

  Oh, my. Bossy much?

  I held up my hands in defeat and then walked out the door. Something about him made me curious about his past. What he was like as a kid. What he went through to become like this.

  Chapter Five

  Harlow

  The drive to the diner was quiet. Hunter didn’t say a word. Instead, he lit his cigarette and rolled down the window, holding the steering wheel with his right hand. I wanted to look over at him. I wanted to know if he was angry or annoyed. There wasn’t much room for any other emotion, I thought. For what I’ve seen so far, I only got to know those two sides of him. Either batshit crazy or as calm as the sea. Not sure what scared me more. He’s aggressive when he’s mad and there were chances to make out his next move. But when he was quiet and didn’t show any emotions, God knows what the hell was going on in his mind.

  I decided not to look at him. If he would want to talk, then he would, right?

  It was only five forty-nine a.m. and he was up, driving me to work. Surely he had something important to do and needed to wake up this early, anyway. But that too, was probably none of my business. Pushing the thoughts aside, I took the hair tie from my wrist and put my hair into a high ponytail. I hated the hairstyle, but Frankie, the owner of the diner, wanted all us waitresses to have our hair tied up like that. He said the customers need to see our pretty faces so they would give us tips. I always thought that was some major bullshit. But hey, what he says goes.

  Arriving at the diner, I opened the door and turned to look at Hunter. His eyes were on mine and I couldn’t help but smile. He seemed to be thinking about something really hard and couldn’t make his mind up.

  Well, that’s new. “What?” I simply asked. His eyes wandered over my face, my hair, and back to my eyes.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  The words not only surprised me, but they seem to amaze Hunter himself. His eyes grew wide for a second, then he turned to look straight ahead. He cleared his throat and turned the key to start the engine. “You’ll be late,” he said and kept his eyes on the road ahead of him.

  My lips pressed into a thin line, keeping me from smiling from ear to ear. Why was him calling me beautiful making me feel so good?

  “Thanks for driving. Bye, Hunter.” I got out of the car, grabbed my bag, and taking one last look at him, I closed the door and watched him drive off.

  Strange man.

  Stepping into the diner, I greeted Frankie, who was already washing the fruits and scrambling the eggs. “You okay working the whole day today, Harlow? Adeline needs to leave after the lunch rush.”

  I walked behind the counter and into the kitchen, where I now stood next to him. “Oh, of course.” I had classes today. But working and earning money were more important at the moment. I had to shop for groceries every week and the paycheck here was just enough that it would be enough to buy food for a week for Jagger and me.

  I put on my apron and went over to the big sink to wash my hands.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. I was up all night studying for this stupid test I have today. Harlow, did Frankie tell you about me leaving after lunch?” Adeline walked over to the sink and washed her hands too. She’s in her last year and will graduate in the summer. I wasn’t sure why she wasn’t going to a better college. She had money. Her parents owned several stores around town and she was always wearing the most expensive shoes and bags. I never asked why she’s even working here. But I didn’t want to bother her.

  “Yes. He told me.” I started to make pancake batter and listened to Adeline talk about her new boyfriend she met at a bar. She wasn’t talking to any of us specifically, but we all just listened. The time passed faster that way and I was glad when people were finally starting to come into the diner to get their morning coffee and breakfast.

  The diner itself wasn’t really big. It has twelve booths and about fifteen stools at the counter for people to sit. Frankie told us that he never renovated. It’s all stayed the same since day one and he liked it that way. I liked it too. It was cozy and I felt safe working here.

  The day went by quickly and it was almost closing time. On Mondays, the diner closes at nine p.m. Not too late, but most customers were annoyed by it. They wanted to stay and hang out longer and enjoy the time away from their wives.

  Walking over to the last man sitting at a booth, I smiled and grabbed his empty glass. “We’ll be closing in ten minutes. Here is your check, sir.” I put it down in front of him and hoped he would accept the fact that his evening here was coming to an end. The man looked down at the small piece of paper on the table and sighed heavily.

  “When will Frankie start to lower the damn prices? It’s just fucking Coke. I can get it cheaper at the gas station.” He took out his wallet and pulled out a fifty.

  “Keep the change. The show you put on here is worth it all, I guess.” He looked down at my legs, then traveled up to my skirt before reaching his hand out to touch the back of my thigh.

  “Frankie should let people pay to just watch you walk around in this short skirt of yours. I think people would pay good money for that.”

  I took a step back and grabbed the fifty from his hand. “Thank you, sir. Have a good night.” I quickly turned and walked uncomfortably back behind the counter, knowing he would be staring at my behind. I learned to just be polite when men tried to hit on me while I’m working in a short skirt. I was hoping he would leave without saying another word. I watched him as he got up, mumbling something about ‘bitches’ and ‘beer,’ then leaving out the front door.

  I sighed in relief and walked past the kitchen to Frankie’s office. I peeked my head through the door and saw him sitting in his chair, counting the money he made today. “Here. He left fifty.” I held the note out to him, but he waved at me. “Keep it. Go home, Harlow.”

  I smiled and nodded, thanking him, and then leaving out the back door. “Took you long enough, sweetheart.”

  I jumped, turning my head to the right. Hunter was standing here with a cigarette in his hand and his shoulder leaning up against the wall. He was wearing all black, as always. His hair was messy. Almost as if he were pulling at it all day long.

  “You scared me.” I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here?” I asked, watching him take a deep pull from his cigarette, then throwing it away while exhaling.

  “Picking you up. I told you I don’t want you to walk home alone at night.”

  Perfect. Now I also have a personal bodyguard.

  Chapter Six

  Harlow

  “I’m nineteen, Hunter. I know this city and I know my way back home. I told you this before. Why are you trying to control me?” I knew this would start a fight. But I was stressed out from working all day long and I felt like blowing off some steam. I have seen Hunter mad multiple times since yesterday and he treated me like shit. So, why can’t I pick a fight now?

  “Don’t start,” he simply said and gave me a warning look. He headed over to his vehicle.

  “Why not? I need a good reason why I should listen to you and get into your car.” I crossed my arms and watched him. He turned, raising an eyebrow at my
words.

  “Get in.” He wasn’t amused. But neither was I. Well, not really. But I was certainly enjoying this at the moment.

  I shook my head and mimicked his facial expression. “No.”

  It was dark outside but I could see his eyes change in the moonlight. “I said get the fuck in.” He was calm, but I knew he was about to explode. Something made me want just that. To see what he was like when he was pushed to the limit. My head was telling me to just move and get into the car. But I couldn’t just give up like that. He needed to know he couldn’t just boss me around and expect me to do everything he wants me to do.

  “And I said no.”

  His hands balled into fists and the veins in his neck stood out in a matter of seconds. He was trying to hold it together. “Why do you want me to not walk home alone at night?”

  His jaw clenched and he was trying so hard not to lose his shit. “I told you before. It’s not safe for you.” His voice was angry. “Now get in the fucking car…please.”

  The please made me grin. I shook my head. “Not good enough.”

  “What the hell do you want me to say? What’s wrong with me wanting to drive you home because I know something could happen to you, huh?” His voice was louder now. He pointed to the car. “Get in the damn car, Harlow.”

  I was exaggerating now. He was not having it and I probably wouldn’t get far with trying to push him over the edge. After all, he could get violent. Even though I’ve never seen him punch or hurt anyone, some people at my school were talking about him one day. They said something about an underground fight and him “beating the shit out of Freddy.” Poor Freddy. I still wasn’t sure if it’s true.

  I sighed and walked over to the car, passing him on my way. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back before pushing me against the hood of the car. He put his right hand on the car and the other still held my wrist tightly. His face was right in front of mine and the familiar scent of him mixed with beer and cigarettes rushed up my nose. He smelled good. It should be throwing me off, but it fit him.