Hunted (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 13)

by Cassandra Faye

  “Here’s your fucking breakfast, or lunch. Whatever it is now. Eat it, or don’t, it’s up to you.” Shoving the plate onto the counter, Harper shakes her head and sidesteps past me.

  I almost reach out and grab her arm, but I stop myself, my hand hovering in the air as she moves into the living room. “Harper, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  “What the hell was that, Jared? Since when is me trying to take care of you treating you like a toddler? That was… absolutely not okay.” She crosses her arms again, her whole body tense as she stares at me, and I can tell by the way she keeps pressing her lips together that she wants to say more.

  “I don’t know why I said that. It was stupid.” Moving forward a few steps, I stop when she shifts backward. “I’m really sorry.”

  “You should be. That was some major asshole shit.” Shaking her head, Harper’s gaze bounces around the room for a minute before she continues. “For the record, I’m not treating you like a fucking toddler. I’m worried about you. You look exhausted, and I know you didn’t sleep much, so fuck me for suggesting we relax this afternoon! Honestly, I don’t care if you take a nap or not, I just don’t want you pushing yourself so hard you ruin the rest of the weekend for yourself.”

  “You’re right, Harper. That was over the line. I was an asshole. Obviously, I’m more tired than I thought, because you know me, babe. I’m not that guy. I’m sorry I snapped at you like that, and I promise you it’ll never happen again.”

  “Ever,” she replies, her voice still carrying a hard edge that’s hovering somewhere between angry and hurt — which makes sense. I’ve never talked to her like that, to anyone like that. I don’t even know where that reaction came from.

  “I swear.” Moving to the counter, I pick up the plate and smile at the omelet she made me. It’s exactly how I always make it for myself — chives, ham, and way too much cheese. Carrying it into the living room, I stop a few steps away from her. “So, I think I need a snack and a nap… and maybe a time out for being such a dick.”

  It takes a second, but eventually Harper’s stern expression cracks and she smiles a little. “A time out?”

  “Yep. After naptime I might need a refresher course in basic social skills too.”

  “Social skills? Like what?”

  “You know… don’t chew with your mouth open, don’t pee on the toilet rim, don’t yell at your girlfriend when she’s being awesome and made you some delicious food. The basics.” I grin and she laughs quietly as she walks over to the table and sits down.

  “That might be a good idea. Perhaps we could review those social skills while we take a short hike? Watch the sunset?”

  “Sounds like a plan, babe. Maybe I can make a fire and we can even roast some s’mores tonight.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.” Harper’s smile lights up her entire face, and I hate myself for making it disappear for even a minute.

  “I love you so much, you know that?”

  “I love you, too. Now, come sit with me. Please?” She pats the place beside her, and I wink at her.

  “Just need to grab some water.” Setting my plate on the table, I’m just glad I didn’t ruin the whole fucking weekend with my bullshit outburst. “Want something to drink?”

  “I’ll take some water, too.”

  “You got it, babe.” Turning back to the kitchen to get glasses for us, I try to adjust my plans for the weekend. Asking her tomorrow won’t be so bad, and Harper is right anyway. I’m clearly not as up for the hike as I thought I was, and we’ll still have a full day to ourselves to celebrate.

  If she says yes.

  The nagging thought pulls at my brain as I fill our glasses, but I refuse to give into it. I know she loves me, and I love her. We’re young, but plenty of people get engaged at twenty-one, and there’s no one else in the world I want to spend my life with.

  I want Harper. Forever.

  Waiting one more day won’t matter.

  5

  Harper

  “No… ‘s not me. Not me.” Jared’s muttering pulls me out of sleep again, and I turn over to rub his arm, but he jerks away from me and curls up, still mumbling.

  I have no idea what’s going on with him, but this is the third time he’s woken me up tonight talking in his sleep, and I’m pretty sure he’s never done it before. I tried to wake him up the first time but he sort of… growled at me. Not a sexy, playful growl, but something bordering on threatening. It was strange, and I’d stayed awake until he calmed down again, eventually brushing it off as him having a bad dream before I fell back to sleep.

  But now I’m sure something is wrong.

  Leaning over the side of the bed, I tap my phone to see the time and the screen comes to life to give me bad news. It’s almost four AM, and I feel like I’ve barely slept. Great. Our phones are useless for most things up here since there’s no service, but I know it’s a reliable clock.

  More reliable than the ancient alarm clock on the bedside table anyway.

  Sitting up, I try not to shift the mattress too much as I watch Jared twitch and grumble. He’s breathing hard and I don’t like the sound of it. I gently lay the back of my hand against his temple, and I’m surprised by how cool he feels to the touch. Based on how worn out he looked when we were getting ready for bed, I was sure he was getting sick.

  Do people get cold before they spike a fever?

  My friend Michelle is pre-med, and I’m sure she’d know the answer to that question — but I can’t text her. Or call her. Hell, I can’t call 911 either if he gets really sick.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Jared mumbles something again, but then he starts to settle down, and I carefully get out of bed. Everything creaks in this place, but I do my best to make as little noise as possible as I walk over to the closet. When I made the bed, I’d noticed another heavy blanket at the top, and maybe if I can warm him up, he’ll feel better.

  Every floorboard feels like it’s too loud in the silence, and I’m sure the sound of the doorknob twisting is going to wake him… but when I turn around, he’s still curled up on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath, I pull the blanket down and shake it out. I feel the dust in the air a second before I sneeze, and then sneeze again.

  “What the fuck,” Jared says as he sits up with a jerk and I curse myself.

  “I’m sorry, babe. I just wanted to get you another blanket.” Walking closer, I start to drape it over him, but he catches my arm in a hard grip.

  “Why?” he asks, and I wish I could see him better in the dim light from the windows.

  “You were talking in your sleep and it woke me up. When I felt your forehead, you were kind of cold, so I—”

  “I don’t talk in my sleep.” Jared sounds gruff, irritated, but I know that neither of us have had a restful night.

  “It’s okay, babe. I think the extra blanket will help.” I try to tug my arm free, but his fingers dig in harder. “Jared, you’re hurting me. Let go.”

  “Okay… I see how it is,” he mutters as he releases me, immediately swinging his legs out of bed to get up. “I’m hurting you. I’m waking you up. Well, I guess I’m nothing but trouble to you.”

  “I didn’t say that!” I argue, but he’s already stomping toward the doorway. “Jared! Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to sleep on the couch. Wouldn’t want to disturb your sleep anymore.”

  “Jared, stop it. Just come back to bed,” I plead, but he walks into the living room like he didn’t even hear me. Following, I find him crouched in front of the fireplace, stoking it back to life as he adds a few more logs. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s fucking cold in here, so I’m getting the fire going. Is that okay with you?” he snaps, and I’m speechless for a moment. Something is definitely wrong with him, but I don’t know how to fix it.

  “Babe, did you have a nightmare?”

  “What?” He jabs the poker into the smoldering coals over and over, his bare shoulders ca
tching the dull, red light as his muscles shift under his skin.

  “I… I was just wondering if you had bad dreams. You were telling someone ‘no’ in your sleep, and—”

  “You already told me I was waking you up, it’s why I’m out here. Just go back to bed, Harper.” There’s none of his normal sweetness in his voice, and I want to remind him that I never said I wanted him to sleep on the couch, but I have a feeling it will only cause more issues. We’re both exhausted and talking about it in the early hours of the morning isn’t going to help things.

  Without replying to him, I head back into the bedroom and grab the blanket I’d pulled down for him. When I come back out to the living room, he’s sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace, watching the renewed flames as they start licking at the fresh wood. “Do you want me to stay out here with you?”

  “Not enough room,” he mumbles, and I lay the blanket over the arm of the couch as I waver between staying up with him or going back to bed.

  “Well… I don’t think we had that problem before. I remember us making the most of the space on the couch.” I give him a smile when he turns around to look at me, but it slowly fades when he doesn’t return it.

  “It’s late. Just go get some sleep, Harper.”

  “Okay. I love you,” I say, moving toward the doorway slowly as I watch him focus on the fire again.

  “Love you too,” he eventually replies, but there’s none of the normal emotion in his voice when he says it back, and I try not to let it bother me as I leave the bedroom door open and climb into bed. It’s noticeably colder without him in it, and I burrow under the blanket, angling myself so I can watch the steadily growing glow from the living room.

  I can’t fall asleep right away because I can’t stop worrying about him. Jared isn’t acting like himself, and all I want is to figure out what’s wrong so I can help. He’s the only guy I’ve ever felt so strongly about, and I never would have moved in with him if I didn’t think we had a future together… but is this some snapshot of what a life with him could be like?

  The thoughts keep spinning in my head. A hundred different issues that could be going on with him from being sick to being sick of me. I don’t want to believe that, and all of my instincts tell me that he loves me, but there’s some kind of wall between us right now that I can’t breach.

  He’s just tired, and so are you.

  Sighing, I roll onto my back and watch the light dance over the painting above the bed. It’s on wood instead of canvas, and when I asked about it, Jared just said it was their ‘family crest.’ The green and burgundy tones are hard to see in the dim light, but the gold paint catches the light, making the crossed arrows and the flower stand out in the darkness. I have no idea if my family even has a crest, or what it would look like, but his is beautiful. Mesmerizing. The flickering firelight in the living room almost makes it look like they’re moving, dancing, drawing attention to the bold lines of his family name written beneath the crest.

  LOXLEY.

  It’s a name I’ve imagined paired with my own just as often as I’ve imagined a future with the man who carries it. Jared and Harper Loxley. It just flows, like it was meant to be.

  Like we were meant to be.

  When I wake up again, the bedroom is bright and sunny, and the cabin definitely feels warmer. Rolling to the side of the bed, I tap my phone to check the time and I’m out of bed the second the numbers register in my brain.

  Ten-thirty? Why didn’t Jared wake me up?

  Moving into the living room, I see the couch is empty, but the fire is still going strong, which means he can’t be far.

  “Jared?” I call out but standing in the living room there aren’t many places in the cabin he could be where I wouldn’t see him. Still, when I don’t hear a reply I peek into the kitchen, the bathroom, and the other bedroom before I head into the mud room. I cleaned up the smears of blood he’d left behind yesterday, but I double-check the doors as I rap my knuckles against the door to the weird room of weapons. “Babe?”

  There’s no answer again, but in the silence I catch a dull thump from outside. When I open the back door, I don’t see him, but a few seconds later I hear a louder thwack and I’m sure he has to be out here somewhere. Hurrying back into the bedroom, I toss on clothes and shoes, more aware of the occasional thumps coming from outside. They’re not exactly consistent, but they keep coming even as I walk out the backdoor and into the cool breeze. Following the sound around the side of the house, I find Jared chopping wood. His shirt is stuck to his skin with sweat, and there’s already a solid pile of split logs beside him.

  “Making more firewood for us, babe?” I ask, smiling at him as I walk closer, but he barely spares me a glance before he brings the axe down, splitting the log in front of him in half. He grabs the piece that stayed atop the old tree stump, rotates it, and then brings the axe down again to split it. “Jared?”

  “The cabin is too cold. You need firewood to be comfortable and we’re running low.” His deadpan reply doesn’t sound like him at all, but at least he’s being nicer in the daylight.

  “I’m sure we have enough for a few days, babe, and it’s not that cold inside.”

  “We need more,” he says as he picks up the other half of the original log and puts it in place. The axe lands with a heavy thwack, the strained sound of the wood splitting feels a bit like nails on a chalkboard to me and I flinch.

  “How long have you been up, babe?”

  Jared doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even look at me. He just sets the axe down, walks over to pick up another log, and brings it back to the chopping block. I’m not sure if it’s a trick of the mountain light, but he looks oddly pale even though he’s dripping sweat.

  Maybe he is sick.

  “Did you make something to eat already?” I move closer to him, and he finally looks at me for real. There’s a lost look to him, something about the way his eyes never stop moving over my face, and all I want is for him to come inside and sit down. “I can make us something to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” he answers, picking the axe up before he lands it again. My king of the outdoors providing again, even though it’s not necessary. One glance at the wood pile against the cabin, half-hidden under a tarp, shows that we have more than enough wood even if we wanted to keep the fire going all day and night until we left.

  “I can make a venison scramble?” I’m trying to tempt him by using the deer he took down yesterday, and for a second I think it’s working because he looks at me, but then he’s back to chopping wood.

  “Make whatever you want.” The words are spoken quickly, in between two huffs of effort to crack the log into firewood, but there’s no interest.

  “When did you want to go to the mountain?” I ask, hoping that will snap him out of it, but he just brings the axe down hard, sending a piece of wood flying as he starts to laugh. Low and soft.

  “Oh, so now you want to go see the mountain? I thought you wanted to ‘chill,’ Harper. Relax, stick close to the cabin, etcetera, etcetera.” Jared shakes his head, yanking the axe free of the stump, but instead of grabbing another piece of wood he raises his arm and points the axe at me. “Why don’t you go do that? Go on. Go chill. Relax. Let me handle everything else.”

  “What are you talking about, Jared? We said we were going on the hike today. I just wanted you to rest yesterday because you weren’t feeling well.”

  “Yeah, and we talked about leaving this morning, but that obviously wasn’t important to you.” His words feel like a slap, and for a moment all I can do is stare at him, but I recover quickly.

  “If you wanted to leave earlier, why didn’t you wake me up? Why are you out here chopping firewood when we clearly have plenty?” Throwing my arm out toward the pile of firewood, he barely glances at it before he turns his gaze back to the chopping block so he can add another piece of wood.

  “If you don’t want me, Harper. All you have to do is say it. You don’t have to—”

>   “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout, and that seems to get his attention. “Of course, I want you! I fucking love you. I love you even though you’ve been so weird about this trip, and increasingly weird since we got here. I’m just trying to make you some fucking food so we can go on this hike to the mountain!”

  “If you wanted to go, you would have been up earlier.” He turns away, mumbling something else under his breath, and I can feel my temper flaring as he walks over to a mossy pile of logs and drags another back to the block.

  “I was up all night worrying about you, jackass! You were talking in your sleep, telling someone ‘no’ over and over, and a bunch of other shit. If you wanted to leave earlier, all you had to do was wake me up!”

  Jared doesn’t even look at me, much less respond, and I storm over to him, grabbing onto the arm he has the axe in, which finally makes him see me… but up close he looks even worse. His eyes are majorly bloodshot, and I’d swear he’s lost weight overnight with the way his skin looks pulled tight against his cheekbones and jaw.

  “Babe, I’m worried about you,” I whisper, softening my voice, and for a second he looks like him again. His green eyes come to life, his smile twitches the edge of his mouth upward, and I lean into his hand when he brings it up to my cheek.

  “I’m fine, Harper. I promise. If you’re hungry, you should eat. I just need to get some stuff done around here.”

  “Do you still want to go to the mountain today?” I ask, and he leans in to kiss me. It’s almost chaste compared to how he usually kisses me, but at least it’s something.

  “Maybe later, maybe tomorrow. We’ll see.” His answer isn’t an answer at all, but he releases me and tilts his chin toward the cabin. “Go on and make us something to eat. I’ll be in later.”