Teachers often commended me on being “mature” for my age. As if age had anything to do with it. Over the years I’d started to realize that age had very little to do with what made somebody an adult. We grew up when we were forced to. I’d met plenty of people who were “adults.” But since they still had familial support and very few responsibilities, they had never truly been tested. They were never forced into something with no clear answer and asked to make a choice.
Sherry and I were supposed to be proud of how fast we’d “grown up.” I couldn’t take any kind of joy in that. Because growing implied a natural development, an inevitable course, which in our society was associated to age.
But there wasn’t an age that made us an adult, rather a moment.
I’d started “growing up” with my first punch to the face.
Sherry began “maturing” when she first saw me bloodied and beaten.
We were forced into being adults by moments. By horrible, life-altering moments. Moments that showed us the cruelty and unfairness in the world.
Loss of innocence wasn’t about a number.
It was about one universal truth.
Humans were the worst kind of monsters; no help from demons was required.
17 years old
It was Friday night, a chilly one at the end of November, and Hunter’s father was gone for the weekend, giving us the whole house to ourselves. It was the first full night we would spend together since his birthday. I was a little surprised when my parents said they didn’t mind, but they weren’t naive so I guess it made sense.
Hunter was sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless and waiting for me. Shutting the door to his bedroom, I leaned against it, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth as I looked him over. Why were bare feet and jeans so attractive on a guy?
My eyes met his, only for his gaze to drop a second later. His eyes turned hungry as they focused on my bare legs before working their way up my body. I shuddered as if he was actually touching me, looking down to confirm I was only wearing an old, faded T-shirt and Soffe shorts, nothing that should result in the fierce look he was giving me.
But I couldn’t deny the growing bulge in his pants, nor his eager expression when he beckoned me forward.
“C’mere.”
When I was close enough, he grabbed my hips and pulled me close. My eyes fluttered shut as he lifted my shirt and placed a gentle kiss above my belly button, all the while his hands ghosted up my back. He pulled back so I could remove it, tossing it blindly behind me and revealing my bare chest to him. I wondered if my stomach would always flutter out of control at the looks he gave me. When he licked his lips while I shimmied out of my shorts, I knew I had my answer.
Yes, always.
After kicking them backward, Hunter immediately slipped his fingers inside my panties and slowly pulled me forward by the gentle material. One hand slid around my hip and inside, firmly squeezing my bare ass as he let out a low, tortured moan. I couldn’t control the whimper that escaped me when his other hand found my breast.
“God,” he whispered, his tone almost reverent. The hand on my butt disappeared, eagerly finding its way to my neglected boob. “They fit in my hands like they were made for me.” He squeezed again for good measure. “Oh… and don’t get me started on the color… mmm.” He nuzzled his nose against one before placing a soft kiss there. “I love that they’re light pink. Your tits look like candy, just waiting for me to suck on them.”
“H-Hunter,” I whimpered, feeling myself grow wet and my clit throb.
“They’re perfect,” he finished, apparently unaware of the torture he was inflicting. My hands flew to his head as he finally wrapped his lips around one of my nipples. I couldn’t help but sway into him, and the next thing I knew, we were falling. Hunter’s back hit the bed as he continued to worship my breasts. I held myself up with my hands by his head, my arms nearly quivering when he positioned his leg between mine and pushed against me. I immediately started grinding on his jean-clad thigh.
“Yes,” I hissed as his teeth lightly grazed my nipple. “Hunter…”
His hands were on my hips, moving me faster against him. He rerouted his mouth until it was at my ear. “Come,” he whispered. “There’s no need to hold off, you’ll be coming for the rest of the night. On my jeans. My fingers. My mouth. My cock. Everywhere I can possibly imagine.”
And with that, I exploded, whimpering as he kept up the fast pace. I hadn’t even fully come down when he rolled me onto my back.
“I need to be inside you.” He shuffled backward, immediately shoving his pants and boxers off. Then Hunter grabbed my hips, pulled me to the edge of the bed, and slammed inside me, his hands on either side of my head to hold himself up.
“Oh God…” I forced my eyes to stay open, watching the rippling of his muscles as he pounded into me. This was what it meant to be fucked. It was brutal and painful, but it felt amazing as he tried to force himself as far inside me as he could. This was something I’d remember for weeks, something I’d feel for days.
Without warning, he straightened and grabbed both my ankles. Hunter rested them against his shoulders, lifting my ass off the bed and changing the angle so he was going even deeper.
“H-Hunter…” My hands clawed at the mattress as his fingers dug into my ass.
“Shit, Sherry, I can feel everything…” He kept up the relentless pace as I searched for something to hold on to. I finally settled on my breasts, shoving them together and squeezing as hard as I could. Hunter’s eyes zeroed in on the movement. “Fuck, Sherry. I can’t wait to get those tits back in my mouth. Pinch them.” I immediately obeyed, crying out at the intense sensations coursing through me. He moved even faster and my eyes closed automatically.
I would never get enough of this, could never get enough of this. Living without Hunter would be like living without air. And as we both came at the same time, I was grateful I would never have to find out what that would be like.
I was warmer than normal. I felt more content than usual. When my eyes fluttered opened, I remembered why.
I was in Hunter’s bed, his arms curled tightly around me.
Neither of us had gotten dressed; between the heavy blanket we had over us and our combined body heat, we were plenty warm. Snuggling into him further, I wrapped my hands around his forearm that was lying across my chest. “Want me to make us some waffles?” I whispered.
I felt Hunter nod behind me, and I went to get out of bed, but he held me to him. “Wait, does that mean you have to get out of bed?”
Smiling, I brought his hand up and kissed the back of it. “Yeah, babe.”
“Oh, well then, no. But there is something else I could still eat,” he murmured as his hand shifted and brushed over my clit. My breath caught as he rolled me over and proceeded to eat breakfast… with gusto.
I was still smiling, high off my orgasm, when I walked downstairs twenty minutes later, dressed only in Hunter’s T-shirt and my panties. The shower was running by the time I hit the first floor. Part of me was tempted to go back up and join him, but with the on-cue growl of my stomach, my decision to make breakfast instead was an easy one.
Instead of going into the kitchen, my feet brought me to the living room. It looked like a shrine to his mother. Hunter said a small part of him felt bad for his father, but I didn’t. As far as I was concerned his parents deserved to be miserable. They took away their son’s childhood, and nothing could make that okay in my eyes. We were lucky nothing had happened in the few months since she left. And even though Hunter tried to assure me everything would be fine, my doubts would not abate. I’d only feel peace once we left for college, and even then it would be tough, knowing my parents were still living next to him. With a resigned sigh, I turned around and walked into the kitchen.
I had just taken everything I needed out of the refrigerator when a whistle echoed throughout the room. Jumping high enough to reveal my underwear, I spun around to face the intruder. My face drained of col
or.
“M-Mr. Monroe, we weren’t expecting you back until tomorrow night.” His gaze lingered on my bare legs as he swayed. The almost empty bottle of tequila looked dangerously close to slipping from his grip.
He managed to bring it to his lips and finish off. It made a loud clank as he slammed it against the counter. “Yes. I can see that.”
I tugged the shirt down, wanting to vomit as he licked his lips. Thoughts of running upstairs and joining Hunter in the shower floated through my mind, but not for the fun reason this time.
“You’re not scared of me, are ya?”
“Why would I be?” I spat. “Only a coward would hit a defenseless little boy.” The heat in his gaze shifted, lust turning to anger, as he staggered closer. I knew I should shut up, but I couldn’t. Everything I’d wanted to say over the years was building up inside my chest, begging for release. “You’re a mean, bitter old man who took his troubles out on his kid, just because you could. Hunter has the largest heart imaginable, and he would have loved you like no one else. But you were too stupid to see it and now there is no one left to love you. You’re jealous because Hunter has found wonderful people who care about him. All you had was his mother, and even she couldn’t stand you in the end—”
Hunter’s father lunged, with surprising quickness and agility for someone so drunk, slamming me into the counter. I cried out at the impact. “Don’t you dare talk about my Cathy.” The alcohol on his breath was so strong I could taste it like I’d had a shot. I was just about to duck by him when the shower went off and a second later Hunter called down.
“Babe? Is breakfast almost ready?”
Before I could respond, Richard slapped his hand over my mouth. My eyes widened and I was genuinely petrified for the first time. “Don’t you say a fucking word,” he whispered in my ear, his other hand tightly gripping my bare hip. He let go of my mouth, only to settle his hand on my neck, giving me a slight warning squeeze before nodding his head.
“N-not yet,” I yelled up, unable to keep the stammer from my voice. He let go of me, stepping back but keeping a finger to his lips. I watched him all the way to the downstairs bedroom. The second the door was shut, I bolted upstairs, stopping in the bathroom to make sure he hadn’t left any marks. I knew my back might bruise, but everything else looked fine.
I had managed to calm myself before walking into Hunter’s room. His back was to me as he shuffled through clothes in his closet. I paused, thinking about how much better I understood him now. I finally got why sometimes staying quiet felt like the right answer. Telling Hunter wouldn’t help. The only thing it would do was piss him off, and most likely make him confront his father. Neither of which I wanted.
Taking a deep breath, I shut the door behind me. “I think we should got out for breakfast.”
“Why?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you burn the French toast again?” He loved joking about how much I sucked at cooking.
“No, uhh… your father’s home.”
He whipped around, his panicked eyes immediately roaming over my body. “Are you okay, Sher bear?”
A small smile slipped through despite my nerves—this childish moniker shouldn’t affect me this way. It shouldn’t make me feel desirable and beautiful. But it did. Because it came from Hunter, and everything he said was said with love and affection. I never doubted his words. He was my best friend. My boyfriend. My soulmate.
“Yeah, yeah. Totally fine. He just scared me.” There was a look of disbelief on his face, and I knew I had to step it up. “Honestly, I was grabbing some eggs when he opened the front door and I dropped a few. Just frazzled. He stumbled straight into his bedroom.”
Hunter frowned and nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. He was supposed to be gone.”
“I know. It’s no biggie. But maybe we should just stay at my house the rest of the weekend?”
“Sounds good.”
We got dressed in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. The day that had started with so much promise was so easily ruined. I just had to keep repeating what Hunter said a few months ago.
It’s only one more year. Less than that, and then we’ll be free of him—forever.
Now it was only six more months.
We’d lived with this for almost eight years—Hunter even longer—what was six months in comparison to that?
18 years old
TODAY WAS MY EIGHTEENTH birthday, and things were feeling pretty perfect. It had started when I woke up this morning to the sound of my bedroom door closing. After opening my eyes and catching sight of a folded piece of paper in my lap, Hunter’s messy handwriting on display, my smile widened to a painful degree.
Happy birthday, gorgeous. I hope you know that not a day goes by where I don’t realize how lucky I am to have you. To love you and be loved by you. Not many people are fortunate enough to find “the one” when they’re ten years old. And I don’t know what I did to get so damn lucky, but I promise to keep doing it every day for the rest of my life. So I never give anyone a reason to take you away from me. I can’t wait to spend today, and every day after, with you. I love you xoxo
I had clutched it to my chest, tearing up and thinking about how lucky I was when he came back in five minutes later with breakfast. Nothing could have gotten me down.
Hunter and I had just graduated, both of us attending Carillo University, in Arizona, when fall came. Neither of us were interested in living on campus, so we were about to start looking for an apartment near campus to share.
Senior year had, for the most part, been kind to Hunter and me. Hunter was able to gain a lot of experience in photography and he loved working at The Well. I had a feeling Maria had somehow known about Hunter’s crappy childhood, because she always found ways to include him. We’d gone over to her house for dinner several times. She had to be the best boss anyone could ever ask for.
This last year had been pretty standard for me, but I had made the decision to go pre-med. Hunter was shocked as hell since I’d never said much about it, and I’d yet to give him my real reason for it. My parents were so proud of me when I finally admitted everything about Hunter’s childhood and told them why I wanted to be a doctor.
But the best part was that I’d only seen Hunter’s father a handful of times in the past few months. Hunter had started living with us around his eighteenth birthday, so we only really saw his father coming and going. I’d heard whispers about his work over the years, but I never really paid attention because I didn’t want to know, sure it was something illegal. It was, and based on recent sketchy visitors to his house, it had become dangerous.
I couldn’t wait to get away from here. We would be leaving at the end of July, and thankfully my parents had decided to downsize and would be moving out and across town by the end of the summer.
That was the only reason I had been allowed to stay in the downstairs bedroom with Hunter the last month. The other two bedrooms upstairs were being touched up for the sale, with my parents’ master bedroom being the last room to renovate.
An eighteenth birthday was something everyone looked forward to, but once the day was here, it seemed to fly by. After Hunter brought me breakfast in bed this morning, my parents, Hunter, and I made the two-hour drive to Chicago. We spent the day going to all of my favorite places: the Buckingham Fountain, the Navy Pier, and the Shedd Aquarium. Nothing was planned, we just floated through the day, wandering around and enjoying each other’s company. It was perfect.
Since my parents wanted to get home at a decent hour, we had an early dinner overlooking the water before heading back. Hunter and I sat in the backseat, my head resting on his shoulder and our intertwined hands in my lap. Once we got home, after devouring one of my mother’s cakes, we all said goodnight and went our separate ways.
My boyfriend kissed me as I split off to go to the bathroom while he went into the downstairs bedroom.
By the time I finished, Hunter was already waiting in bed, his back flush against the headboard and h
is legs stretched out in front of him. He hadn’t seen me yet so I just stood by the doorway, watching him read the Outdoor Photography magazine he held in front of him. My breath hitched when he bit his bottom lip in concentration, and my heart pounded as I thought about coming home to this every night.
We wouldn’t just have a room to ourselves, we’d have an entire apartment. And while numerous dirty scenarios flashed through my mind—kitchen table sex, couch sex, up against the front door because we’re too horny to make it any further sex—I also thought about picking out silverware and furniture. It seemed silly, but I couldn’t wait to be boring and get excited about bedsheets and towel sets. We’d had plenty of excitement over the years. Now was our time for calm. It was the time for us.
As if he finally sensed me, Hunter looked up. Our eyes locked and without a word, he tossed the magazine aside and I shut the door. I walked toward him, watching him turn off the light and flip back the covers, welcoming me in. Before I slid in, I rid myself of my clothes, dumping them in a pile by the bed. I watched Hunter swallow as he quickly got up and did the same. By the time he was done, I’d crawled into the middle of the bed, waiting for him.
Easily climbing on top of me, he moved down my body, handing me the covers to pull over him. I held them to my chest. There was something strangely erotic about not being able to see him while he went down on me. Hunter kissed the inside of each thigh before he started eating me out. He brought me to the edge, my eyes slammed shut and my legs quivering with the need to orgasm. My hands slid under the comforter and grabbed his where he had a grip on my hips to steady me. “Please,” I whimpered. It was barely audible because thankfully I still remembered that my parents were just upstairs. But he heard me. I felt him shake his head before he pulled away and crawled back up.
The second he was within range of my lips, he kissed me. I could feel him blindly reaching for a condom as he rubbed his cock against my wet center. Softly panting, I opened my eyes, watching him roll it on and settle against my entrance. We were staring straight into each other’s eyes when he slowly sank inside me.
Unveiling Ghosts Page 19
