Heart of the Hunter

by Chance Carter

  He felt happiness he’d never even known was possible. He was so happy he actually sang in the shower. He wasn’t even sure what the name of the song was, just something from the radio that had gotten into his head.

  He’d asked Elle to have a baby with him.

  He just couldn’t believe it. Where had that come from? Had he even been aware that he was ready to start a family? He had no idea. All he knew was that he was happy, and in love, and wanted nothing more than to see Elle’s beautiful face, first thing every morning when he woke up.

  He put on his last clean shirt and underwear and left a note for the concierge to send him up some new clothes. He hadn’t been expecting to stay this long when he’d initially packed. Now he had no intention of leaving, at least not until he figured out a way for him and Elle to be together. He left two hundred dollars for the concierge as a thank you for getting the restraints for him. They’d worked perfectly. In fact, he made a little promise to himself that if Elle got pregnant because of last night, he’d come back and sign a check for a thousand dollars for the concierge.

  When he put on his jacket, he felt the crumpled up envelope of his father’s letter in his pocket. He was about to take it out of his pocket and throw it in the trash, when something stopped him. Maybe it was that he still thought he might read it, maybe it was that he didn’t want to throw it into the trash in his room where he still might see it, but he felt it there, and he left it.

  Forrester knew as well as anyone that sometimes it’s the smallest of decisions that can have the greatest effect on your life, but he never would have guessed how momentous of a decision this was. If he’d simply thrown the letter in the trash, the maid would have come within an hour to take it away, put it in with the rest of the hotel’s trash, and it would have been in a dumpster by lunch time. Forrester never would have read it. But he left it in his pocket, a little memento of his past as he began to make a new future for himself, and it ended up changing everything.

  The valet brought his truck around and Forrester drove down the street to Chapman’s law office. He greeted the secretary who told him Chapman was waiting.

  “Good morning, son,” Chapman said.

  “Good morning, sir,” Forrester said.

  “Have you thought any more about your father’s estate?” the lawyer said.

  Forrester took his seat across the desk from Chapman. “No sir, I have not. And I don’t intend to do any thinking on it. As far as I’m concerned, everything to do with my father is finished and I just want it to be gone.”

  “So you still want all the money to go to charity.”

  “Yes, sir. Did you find one that would be suitable?”

  “I did,” Chapman said, taking some papers out of a file. “This charity has been working in the state of Montana for over ten years. It helps women who have suffered from domestic abuse. It gives them and their children a safe place to stay while law enforcement looks into their case. It’s very important work. Without it, it would be very difficult for some women to get out of abusive relationships, especially if they had children and had no where to go.”

  “It sounds like what I asked for,” Forrester said.

  “Yes, something that would have helped your mother.”

  “So where do I sign?”

  “Well, if you’re really certain that you don’t want any of this money for yourself.”

  “I don’t want a red cent of it.”

  “Well then, the document’s right here. Have a look over it.”

  Forrester scanned the document, which was some fifteen pages long. Everything looked to be in order. He picked up a pen and scrawled his name and the date on the line assigned.

  “And what about the legal fees and transfer fees?” Chapman said. “If you want, I can take them out of the estate before I transfer the money.”

  “No,” Forrester said. “Don’t do that. I’ll pay the fees. Have your secretary send a bill to my address in California. The charity could probably use all the money it can get.”

  Forrester stood. Chapman stood also. They leaned over the table and shook hands.

  “I’m sorry this has been such a difficult situation for you,” Chapman said.

  Forrester nodded. “It’s not your fault,” he said.

  “I shouldn’t ask you this, but did you read the letter?”

  Forrester reached instinctively into his pocket and felt the crumpled envelope.

  “I did not,” he said.

  Chapman nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it since I gave it to you. I probably should have just done you a favor and destroyed it, but lawyers are sticklers for keeping their word.”

  “The good ones are,” Forrester said.

  Chapman nodded. “Anyway, what I was going to say is that you’d be better off just throwing it in the trash. Your father was a mean man, and he only got worse toward the end of his life.”

  Forrester nodded. That pretty much decided the issue for him. He’d been half holding on to the hope that the old man had a change of heart on his death bed. He knew it was a long shot. Now he knew it was a pipe dream too.

  He left the law office, went back to his truck, and drove to the diner. As he pulled up outside he could already feel his heart quicken with excitement. It was scarcely an hour since he’d seen Elle and he already missed her.

  He peered into the diner from where he sat in his truck and could see her inside working. She was serving some guys at the counter. She didn’t see him.

  Was she pregnant already?

  Was she already carrying his child?

  He felt his cock throb at the thought. No woman had ever had the effect on him that Elle had.

  “Screw it,” he said out loud.

  If he was truly going to move on from his past, if he had truly overcome the abuse his father had inflicted on him, then what did he have to fear from that letter?

  He pulled it out of his pocket and without giving himself the time to change his mind, ripped open the envelope. He held the page in front of him and read it in a single scan.

  *

  Forrester Snow,

  The very sound of your name still makes my stomach turn. You’re scum, boy. You’re a no good, piece of shit, son of a bitch. You killed your mother, you know.

  People say you’re not to blame. You didn’t know what you were doing. You were just a baby.

  I say, all that’s fine. You were a baby. You didn’t ask to be born. But you still killed her, and for that I’ll always hate you. You’re no more guiltless than the bullet that strikes its mark. The bullet doesn’t know what it’s doing, but it kills its target all the same.

  That’s you, Forrester Snow. You killed your own mother, you killed my wife, and I curse the day you were conceived. If I could go back and not fuck your mother the day I made her pregnant, I’d do it. I’d erase your very existence.

  I was never the perfect husband, but I loved that woman more than I could ever love you.

  You’re worthless to me. You would have been worthless to her too, if she’d survived your birth. No one could love you when you were born. The truth is, I didn’t want to raise you. I tried to give you up to the county, I tried to get rid of you, but they wouldn’t take you. No one wanted you.

  You were truly born alone, Forrester. You were born alone, and mark my words, you will die alone. The words of a dying man must be worth something. The curse of a dying man must be worth something.

  So hear this, for this is my curse. No one will ever love you, you little piece of shit. You will destroy anyone you ever try to love. You will find no happiness, and you will give no happiness. If you ever think you’ve found the girl who’s won your heart, you run. You run away from her as far and as fast as you can.

  Because if you don’t, you’ll destroy her, just like you destroyed your own mother.

  Curse you.

  Abraham Snow.

  *

  Forrester grimaced. He shook his head. He told himself that the letter meant no
thing. He scrunched it up and threw it out the window. He wanted nothing to do with it. Through the tears that were filling his eyes, he looked out the windshield of his truck into the diner. There she was. The woman he loved.

  Had something changed?

  Had his father’s letter poisoned his love?

  Forrester didn’t know the answer, all he knew was that he couldn’t go into the diner right then and there. He was an emotional wreck. He’d make a fool of himself, and he’d upset Elle. There was no reason to upset her. He would go back to his hotel room for a while and compose himself. Then he would come back and have a nice breakfast with the girl he loved.

  His father’s letter hadn’t changed shit. It hadn’t poisoned shit. He just needed to get his head around the shock of reading it before he went into the diner to see Elle.

  The envelope was still sitting on his lap and he realized there was something else in it. It was small and round. It was a ring. His mother’s engagement ring. He’d seen it before. His father had kept it in a box in the basement with his fishing lures. Forrester had found it the time he’d been locked down there with the dogs. The dogs that were supposed to attack him. He’d befriended the dogs, and he’d found the ring. In the moments of darkness and terror down in that basement all those nights, he’d even worn the ring. It had been a perfect fit for his child’s hand. He’d worn it and he’d been convinced to this day that it was the one thing that protected him while he was down there. He looked at it now. Why had his father put it in with the letter. To taunt him? To add insult to injury? It was a beautiful ring, a solitary, clear diamond on a band of gold. He put it in his pocket, turned the ignition on his truck, and pulled out of the lot. He headed up the road toward his hotel. At the same time, Elle looked out the window, and saw him driving away.

  Chapter 27

  Elle

  “THAT’S WEIRD,” ELLE SAID TO Kelly. “That was Forrester.”

  “Wasn’t he going to come in and see you?”

  “I think so,” Elle said. “That was the plan. Everything went perfectly last night, and this morning. He was going to come here for breakfast.”

  “He must have forgotten something,” Kelly said. “He’ll be right back.”

  Elle nodded. She felt a moment of fear, although not quite panic, at the sight of Forrester’s taillights driving away.

  He’ll be right back, she told herself.

  He’ll be right back.

  But he didn’t come right back. Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. And still, no Forrester. She must have looked out the window a thousand times, hoping to see his truck in the lot.

  Where was he?

  What had changed?

  Everything had been perfect.

  He’d said he loved her. He’d promised.

  One hour turned into two, and two into three, and still, Forrester never showed.

  “Elle, child, you look pale,” Grace said when the lunch rush was over.

  Elle looked at her watch. It was two.

  He wasn’t coming.

  “What happened?” she said helplessly to Grace and Kelly as they sat to join her at the counter.

  There were still a lot of customers so she couldn’t wait for an answer. She had to put on a brave face and keep doing her job. She refused to let her worry show. Something was delaying Forrester. She’d call his hotel. She went to the phone behind the kitchen and called.

  “Forrester Snow, please,” she said.

  “Sorry madam, there’s no guest here by that name.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no guest here by that name.”

  “Did he check out?”

  “I’m really not at liberty to discuss our guests’ actions, madam. All I can say is there’s no one here by that name.”

  “Was there last night?”

  “It’s a matter of confidentiality, madam.”

  “Confidentiality? I was with him all night. Who’s in the penthouse?”

  “The penthouse is empty, madam.”

  It wasn’t until eight hours later, after the last customers had cleared out from a long dinner service, that Elle could let the pent up emotion finally pour out of her. It was dark outside. She remembered the sight she’d caught of Forrester’s truck.

  Was that the last she’d ever see of him?

  She sat down at the counter, practically collapsing onto the stool. Her body was robbed of all its strength.

  “Something must have come up,” Kelly said.

  Elle wanted to believe her, but when she looked at Grace, she was shaking her head.

  “Don’t take it too hard,” Grace said. “He was a bright flash, that’s all. He was here for a few days to brighten up your life, and maybe he’ll be back again, or maybe he won’t. Either way, it wouldn’t make any sense for you to let it get you down, child. Try to think of the nice time you had with him.”

  “The nice time I had with him?”

  “A fling, child.”

  “It wasn’t a fling,” Elle said, tears choking her voice.

  “I’m not saying for sure that it was,” Grace said. “Maybe he’ll be right back. I’m just saying, if he doesn’t come back, try not to let it break your heart.”

  Elle was shaking her head. She looked at Kelly, and when she saw the compassion in Kelly’s eyes, she understood. They were consoling her. They were already trying to console her and make it better. They thought Forrester wasn’t coming back.

  And they were probably right.

  “He said he loved me,” Elle said, feeling pathetic.

  “Men often say things like that without realizing what it means,” Grace said.

  “He said he wanted a future with me.”

  Kelly and Grace put their arms around her as the tears fell over her cheeks. She was heartbroken. Whatever Grace might try to tell her about being brave and not letting her emotions get out of control, she was heartbroken. If Forrester didn’t come back, she would die. That’s what she felt, and that’s what she believed.

  “He was right outside,” Elle said, her voice a high-pitched wail.

  “He was, but he left,” Grace said.

  “Why? Why did he change his mind. Why did he change his mind about me? What did I do wrong?”

  “You did nothing wrong, child.”

  “He said he wanted a baby,” Elle said, her voice almost inaudible from anguish. “He said he wanted me to give him a baby, and we made love without protection,” Elle said. “I know it was very fast, I know we’d only just met, but I really felt a connection with him. I thought it was the real thing. I wanted to give him a baby.”

  “Shush now,” Grace said soothingly.

  Elle’s mind was overpowered with grief. She couldn’t think straight. All she could do was sit on the bench and cry, her small body shaking with anguish. She couldn’t have been more upset if someone had died. To her, this was death. The pain was as intense as any death.

  “I was a fool,” she said, and she didn’t even know if she believed her own words or not.

  Forrester said he’d be back. She was overreacting. But he’d said he’d be there for breakfast. It was almost eleven at night. The day was over, he’d checked out of his hotel, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.

  She looked into Grace and Kelly’s faces and decided to tell them something she’d never told anyone.

  “My own mother couldn’t love me,” she said.

  “What?” Grace said. Kelly’s mouth opened in surprise.

  “No one will ever love me. It’s my curse. I know it’s true. I try not to give in to my fears, I try to stay positive and be brave, I try not to feel sorry for myself, but sometimes, I really honestly fear that I’m cursed never to be loved. My own parents never loved me. Why the hell would a guy as amazing as Forrester?”

  Chapter 28

  Forrester

  WHEN FORRESTER LEFT THE DINER parking lot that morning, his only intention was to go back to the hotel and regain his composure. He’d clear his mind, gather himself
, and go straight back to the diner to meet Elle as promised.

  But Forrester never made it to the hotel. He pulled out onto the street. Despite what the letter had said, he was still more certain of Elle than he’d ever been of anything. He wanted her, he wanted to create a family with her. He didn’t care what an old man’s letter said. Sure, it hurt, but he was a man now. He could rise above it.

  That’s what he was thinking when he came to a stop at the intersection. There was no traffic. He waited for the light to turn green. He saw a group of guys walking down the sidewalk and recognized them as Phil and his cronies, the troublemakers he’d taken care of more than once.

  Then he saw in his rearview mirror, a big black Camaro approaching down the street. The car must have been doing at least fifty. It was much too fast. Forrester kept his eye on it, waiting for it to slow down, but it didn’t.

  He knew enough to see what was going to happen. The car was going to ram into the back of him. He put his foot on the gas and ran the red light, then he picked up speed as he drove down the street toward his hotel. He made it about half way before the Camaro rammed into the back of his truck. The impact caused him to spin out and slam into a fire hydrant.

  “What the fuck?” Forrester said to himself when the truck came to a halt. He was dizzy. There was a ringing in his ears.

  He wiped some blood from his forehead, he’d smashed it against the steering wheel, and he tried to get his bearings. Two men got out of the Camaro. One of them was Gris, and the other was in a sheriff’s uniform.

  Instinctively, he reached for the glovebox, but already, police squad cars were surrounding him from every direction, their lights flashing, their sirens blazing.

  “Step out of the vehicle with your hands raised,” he heard over the police loudspeaker.

  What the hell’s going on, he wondered.

  And then a bullet came through the back of the truck, smashing the window.

  Holy shit.

  Forrester stepped out of the truck and immediately, the four troublemakers, the sons of the most powerful politicians in the community, were on top of him. They punched him, kicked him to the ground, beat him with whatever weapons they happened to be holding, and finally, one of them stomped down on his face and knocked him out with the heel of his boot.