Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "See you around."
She ran through the options in her head. Dose up on black coffee to stay awake, or go back home, sneak and steal pills from Meredith to drug herself to sleep. None of them seemed appealing.
Damn him to Hell.
"Please, can you please, just stay with me." She realised it sounded whiny but she was desperate, it would be easy to use him just to give her mind a rest.
"I'll stay until you fall asleep, I'll be your Edward and you'll be my Bella." He let out a soft laugh.
"I'm not whiny, but you are creepy," she taunted him, her shoulders slightly loosening the tension.
Hunter closed the bi-fold doors to the balcony, and drew the thin curtains across, plunging the room into a dim glow. He slid down and placed a pillow behind his back and un-did the shoelaces of his scuffed combat boots.
Luxor stayed on guard as Verity and Aiden lingered in her mind. "Not there." She closed her eyes to compose herself. "I need you close to me, to hug me while I sleep."
"Say what?"
"I'm not saying it again." Once was enough and even then, it was a struggle.
"Okay, goodnight."
God, I hate him!
"Please," Luxor begged. "Come and huggle me."
Hunter arched an eyebrow. "Huggle? Did you just make that up?"
"It's a combination between a hug and a cuddle," she stated.
He scoffed. "They're the same thing."
"No, they're different, I'm surprised your Einstein plus brain doesn't know that. You could say I want the benefits of both of them. Everything will be okay with a huggle."
"I'm not up with urban slang, or merging words, so you're wrong. Unless you show me the difference?"
Luxor shook her head and slipped down to a comfortable position. "Nope, but you'll soon find out. Lay on your side, and wrap your arms around my waist. No higher, no lower. Just talk to me, no learning lessons, just as if I was a friend."
"Are we friends?" Hunter asked hopelessly.
"That's why I said 'as if'." She purposely avoided the question because in all honesty, even through everything, what were they?
"Remember...side, waist, no higher or lower."
"I know how to hug, I've mastered the art...among other things."
Luxor elbowed him in the ribs. He snuggled up close, his cheek resting on her shoulder, the pure unadulterated Hunter Effect kicked in.
Sparks ignited every single pore, a sudden and intense flow of currents, warm and electric. He was a life source she was scared to want, and trained herself to hate. It was an easy task, he pushed her to her limits, and she presumed he was on equal footing on not wanting to get close.
She breathed him in, alive with the nature of a unique forest; woodsy and primitive, with an undertone of wild honeysuckle. The forest of her nightmares was dark and dank, the mystery of not knowing what to expect present, and hope of happiness non-existent.
His arm draped around her midsection, a burning trail left in its wake the moment his thumb across her bare skin. "Tell me why are you scared? I want to understand." His warm breath tickled her ear. "Is it the nightmare?" Hunter's thumb circled her birthmark, as if eradicating the thoughts of burgeoning evil.
"I don't want to, I want to forget." She hated he saw her at a low point. "Hold me, a huggle would make it better."
I feel safe with you. They won’t get me.
His arms continue to cradle her midsection, an infusion of sunshine where he touched. It was only a matter of time until she lost her resolve. "Who else is out to get you?" Hunter moved her hair over, exposing her naked shoulder and rest his head in the crook. "How about you tell me, and I'll divulge a personal secret. But you can't gasp or look at me like 'oh poor Hunter that's why he's like that.' Deal?"
Luxor massaged her throat, the secret killing her, like quick sand threatening to swallow her whole. Obviously Hunter’s secret was monumental, a way to bond and bring them together. But there was no guarantee he would tell the truth, how could she be sure he was true to his word?
How would she know how Hunter would react?
"You start," she said, deciding she would finally purge. "I'm the guest so cater to my needs." He smiled against her shoulder, his hair tickling her. "Why does everything sound filthy coming out of your mouth?" A smile danced on her lips despite his insufferable nature.
"Your influence, lay it on me. But I want you to look at me. Turn around," he said. Luxor hesitated for a while. But in her own time, she turned around, and secured the robe. He shifted, and somehow, she ended up closer, her head that originally was on his arm now laid against his chest. "Let the huggle therapy begin." He had his other arm firmly at her hip.
The lub-dub-lub-dub-lub-dub of his increased heart beat brought a blanket of comfort and assurance. She wrapped an arm around his waist, the pillows between them acted as an emotional and physical barrier.
I wish she would look at me.
Luxor jolted as Hunter's voice streamed into her mind, a yearning of a request she couldn't fulfil. "Tell me," she said. Hunter hesitantly let her go, the numbness settling back in. She sat up, and he started the process of removing his singlet. She widened her eyes, placed her hand on his chest, halted him. She scooted away to the edge and created as much distance as possible. "What are you doing?"
This definitely was a bad idea.
"I want to show you something," he said furthering the distance. "It's strictly PG, but you might gasp."
Luxor mashed her face into a pillow, and snapped her eyes shut. "Go away." She made the shooing motion. The room stilled, a coldness set in, and it had nothing to do with the exposed door. She opened her eyes to find Hunter across the room. He had his back to her. "Where are you going?"
"I’ll sleep on the couch. You can't keep up your end of the deal," Hunter's voice was defeated.
"You getting naked isn't part of the deal." Hunter removed his top. Luxor gasped, the wind was punched out of her chest. "Hunter why is your back scarred?" Deep red and blue gashes scarred his back in all directions. It was a variety of sizes and depths.
"What did I tell you about gasping?" he replied without facing her.
"I'm sorry. Is this your personal secret?" She couldn't avert her gaze from the markings on his back.
Hunter slipped his singlet on and smoothed it down. "Get some sleep.” He glanced over his shoulder, leaving her with a forlorn expression.
"Wait," she said, getting off the mattress. She wanted to see him smile. It had gone beyond whether she wanted him to stay or not. She wanted him to share a piece of him, just as she had. "Come closer."
Hunter moved in willingly without complaint. "Are you ready, it's not pretty?" He searched for any hesitation to make sure she was.
"Show me."
He reluctantly lifted his singlet over his head. Unlike the ones on his back, the scars on his chest were deeper, some thin, others done by a serrated object. Burn marks shaped like red hot pokers, and stamps, similar to what cattle were branded with covered from his shoulders, down his sides, and under his navel. The most prominent was a deep scar, obvious he was stabbed deeply, from his ribs to kidneys. Even against his olive complexion, they were startling.
Hunter, for the first time, was exposed from any pretence. She had seen the sweet vulnerable side before on multiple occasions mostly after their study date, but there was nowhere to hide here.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sniffled to keep them at bay. "What happened?" she uttered.
"Don't cry." He thumbed the tears away. "Well never over me."
Luxor tapped the spot next to her, and slowly Hunter crawled over. She snuggled in close, but it wasn't close enough, she wanted to take any pain away. "How did this happen? Who would do this?" Her heart ached, constricted as if she was the one who was stabbed. Moisture built up in her eyes again, but she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back.
"Where do you want me to start?" He swallowed hard.
"How'd y
ou get the scars? Did your father do this?" It was the first thing that popped into her mind.
"I wish, that would have meant he was around," he replied softly, lowering his lashes.
"What's that mean?"
"My father got into trouble, with 'I'll destroy your life' kind of people, well one in particular, who promised to come and collect. We were poor and the logical collateral was his children. So, we had to run away, there was no choice. Castor, Theo and Melita were already part of my family, and they couldn't go back. If the man didn't kill them along with me, the orphanage would have."
"Couldn't you go back?"
"No, but I never listened. When we did my father had already disappeared," Hunter said with despair. “Those five years weren’t easy, petty theft to eat, but as the years went by, we managed more. Some are from street fighting. I started when I was thirteen. I would get paid a small amount to fight, and people would bet. At first, I got my ass beat, broken bones, covered in bruises, and cuts. I didn’t understand my power as a Nephilim, my father hid the world from us. The bigger the disadvantage the higher the stakes, the guys would be huge, and much older. I learnt some tricks, figured out strategies, worked out, and got stronger and became unbeatable. I haven't fought for a while."
Luxor didn't believe him for a second. "These look fresh." She ran his finger along the length of his rib.
Hunter jerked and winced. "I upgraded. Except it’s now against Nephilims and not humans. No more streets, now it's cage fights."
“You didn’t go to find a Nephilim, did you?”
“Yes I did, but we need to survive, and I don’t like Theo and Castor using their gifts until it’s important. Hence living here and not a fancy place.”
"I mean you're basically looking out for Theo, Castor, and Melita?"
"In the past, the guys were persuasive when they wanted to be and have stopped us from being homeless on numerous occasions. But times change and people are more alert. I couldn’t risk losing the only family I’ve known. It’s not so bad, basically underground fighting rings, no holds barred, but the rewards are worth it."
"And if you don't win?" Luxor didn't want to think about what could happen.
"I don’t believe in losing. Besides my life can't get any shittier than it is now." Hunter cast a glance at her morosely. "But I have an upside right now which makes me want to stop taking risks."
Luxor suppressed the happiness, she didn't want to be the reason for somebody else's well-being. "Is that what happened to your face?" The cuts had almost cleared up, the bruises now a murky yellow on the way to evaporating.
"Nope. It's a coincidence. On my return Castor and I had an argument which got out of hand."
"It better have been worth it." She surveyed the damage, her hands itching to touch him.
"You don't get it, do you? I don't care who it is, nobody will hurt you." Hunter enunciated the keyword.
"Except for you," she blurted out.
Luxor shut up.
"Isn't there some other way? Money wise." She tried to deflect the conversation.
"I've tried Casinos but apparently counting cards is illegal." Hunter smirked.
"Yeah just a little bit."
"Remember the night of the demon attack, when we had our study session I asked about your father, and you said you lived with him."
The blanket slipped bringing in much needed air, with Hunter too close, she burned up. None of them made an effort to move. The waves of electricity charged the air. Hunter held her hand, and rounded circles with his thumb against hers. But a shift had occurred. An emotion that Luxor could only described as fear had entered his eyes.
Everything has changed now.
Again, his voice wouldn't stop but his devastated tone broke her.
"Let's lay down, I need to hold you," his voice cracked.
Luxor snuggled more into him. “I believe you,” she said
“About what?”
“There’s more dangers from all directions and I’m not sure I can handle it all. But I believe you’ll protect me.”
“Maybe we should write a list.”
“And you can add Pastor Cooper and Bune too.”
“Don’t worry about the Coopers, the lineage of their hunter days have come to an end. But The Duke of Hell?” Luxor nodded careful not to headbutt him. “What’s his endgame?”
“He’s giving deals in exchange for me,” she said. “But don’t worry he’s taken care of.” She smiled at the memory of Bune being sucked into the void.
A chuckle reverberated through Hunter’s chest. “I’m not surprised.”
Luxor trailed her fingers alongside his arm feeling the bumpy groove of the lettering. She turned over and peered into the darkness at the tattoo. “What does Dum Spiro Spero mean?”
She anticipated it to be something important. Each time a foreign phrase was uttered it was at an intense moment and had a significant meaning.
"Why is it important? I just felt like getting one." Hunter averted his eyes, a sure tell-tale sign he was lying.
"It just is." Luxor stood her ground, there was no way she would be budging on this.
Hunter let out a low growl. "Bloody stubborn. You're not going to give up, are you?" Luxor shook her head, leading him to exhale deeply. "It's Latin translating to Whilst I Breathe, I Hope."
"Didn't think you would be into sappy sentiments," she uttered sarcastically, because, in reality, she found it incredibly sweet.
"There's a lot more you don't know about me. Did you know I love French philosophy especially Cicero? It's his quote, and for me, stands out the most."
"Because...?"
"It's relatable, and I've come to realise there's one thing where hope is all I have left," his voice lowered and softened, and she recognised his expression.
"Which is?" she inquired, scared of the answer.
Hunter angled his head, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. There was a hesitation before he spoke again. "What will you give me if I tell you?"
"Question should be what would I do if you don't?" she arched an eyebrow, challenging him.
He chuckled. "My Angel, why aren't I surprised by your response?"
"So, tell me, what is this great hope that has you stamping your body?"
"I have to whisper it." He closed the distance and became a prisoner, consumed in a daze, and lost in his dark copper orbs fuelled by either lust or anger, two powerful emotions held apart by a minuscule thread. His head dipped against hers, and ebony hair flopped over his eyes shielding his expression. "You. Always you."
"Hunter I…"
“Go to sleep beautiful.” He traced a finger along the curve of her jaw, and over her lips.
Words escaped her as she turned around and feigned a yawn. With his body heat radiating off hers, and his heightening emotions, she was more alert than ever, his words shattering her core.
A bolt shot through her, experiencing threads of his emotion being transferred to her, a unique mixture of pain, passion and longing. She refused to reveal how much he affected her, he was simply supposed to be a means to rest. But now it was different.
How can I be his hope?
Hunter moved her hair to the side, kissed her shoulder, and slipped the material back. His fingers trailed the hem of her top with feather-like strokes. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a breathy sigh.
"Why couldn't you be like the others? Why did I have to meet you, and never be allowed with you?" His heart thundered against her back. "But it doesn't matter anyway, I'll never be good enough, and you my dear Angel, deserve the best."
I've never wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you.
Words continued to stream in her mind, more yearning than the last. He leaned in, placing the softest of kisses on her cheek, and cradled his head between her shoulder blades. Luxor held in the tears, and wished she could conjure up the words to express how much she wanted him, and only him.
A vibration emanated from under Luxor’s pillow rousing
her from her sleep. She ignored the phone call and after a ten second pause, the incessant shrill to started up again. She fumbled as she grabbed, and answered it.
"About friggin' time, don't you pick up your phone?" Evie launched straight in.
Luxor didn't want to speak to anyone, let alone her. The revelation of the Facebook page was a slap in the face. How could she post moments of their friendship for the whole world to see?
"Are you listening? I've been trying to call you all morning.”
She flicked over the blanket and got off the mattress. "I haven't had a great night, can I call you later?"
"Umm no."
"What do you mean no?” she said. “Besides I’m not home, I’ll see you later.” She disconnected the call and hung up the phone.
“Does that mean you’re staying here for the day?” Hunter asked from the doorway.
“If you’ll have me.”
“But only if you have a shower.” He held his nose and chuckled. He fiddled around with the shower taps. “They’re temperamental and the hot water is weak.” He stepped to the side. “I’ve left some towels and clothes on the bed.”
Luxor undressed and soaked up the cold water allowing it to properly wake her up. She lathered up the face washer with soap and couldn’t help but sniff. There was no scent and she was weirdly happy with it, she would rather attribute Hunter’s forestry smell to nature than manufactured.
A flashback. Aiden’s hands up her thigh, the filthy words he uttered…
Luxor shut her eyes. "Pretty, pretty marks, matches my arms. Pretty, pretty marks let's sound the alarms. Make it red, or make it blue, take a blink, no more boo boo," she sang melancholically.
Red raw and painful, her arms were evidence of the remedy. Transferring internal pain to the outside had always been her coping mechanism. Underneath the red scratches, her veins sparkled, something they've never done.
If I tried to cover them with bandages, I might as well have “suicidal” plastered on my forehead.
Clad in a towel, Luxor quickly dried her hair and plaited it in a side braid. She picked up the clothes off the bed and got more of Hunter than she bargained for. She re-dressed in her pants, his T-shirt swamping her.
Betrayed: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone Book Two Page 27
