The Hunter (A Dark, Erotic Romance)

by A. R. Ford

  Just as Luca settled into a productive rhythm, he spotted Donovan walking along the path. Mallory was nowhere to be seen, not that it surprised him. Nyssa refused to meet or even speak with the woman after she arrived. He kept his interactions to the bare minimum, never speaking or acknowledging her existence.

  Donovan paused a half dozen feet from where Luca stood chopping wood. He made no effort to stop working. The man he once called brother bore no special place in his heart and world now. Only when Donovan called did he pause. Luca stood with the axe in one hand, chest heaving from exertion.

  “You need something?” Luca wasn’t about to make it easy on him.

  “Mallory left yesterday with some guy that came by the cabin. I happened to see them leave when I was coming back from hunting.” Donovan scuffed at the ground with a boot, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans.

  Luca laughed, head thrown back as the bitter burst of humorless reaction found its way free. “Good one!” He reached to the wood pile for another block of wood. As he raised it upright in preparation of bringing the axe down again, Donovan stepped forward and caught his arm.

  “Look, I made a mistake. I know that now. I should have let Mallory hit the road the second she showed up here.”

  “And you expect me to care why?” Luca snorted and jerked his arm free of Donovan’s tenuous grasp. “The only good and true thing in your life you turned your back on. She’s gone now and don’t bother asking where. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I tell you anything. They’re better off this way.”

  “What do you mean, they’re? Kallie was alone when I saw her. She just had the backpack and a walking stick.” Donovan’s eyes searched his face. It turned to stone, refusing to give any hint at secrets he held. Donovan grabbed his arm again, making the mistake of stepping close enough that their bodies touched. “You owe me this much, Luca.”

  The man Luca knew as Donovan Fitzpatrick was a goner. With a roar, he picked Donovan up by the throat and slammed him to the ground. He straddled his chest, the hand clutching his throat until he sputtered for air. “Now you listen to me, Donovan. You’ve stuck your dick in a whore for the past few weeks. And that’s what Mallory is. A whore. You’ll never know what I have to tell. And don’t think about coming near Nyssa. I’ll drop you where you stand if you start on her.”

  Nyssa’s voice called out. Luca glanced over one shoulder to see her standing with Tristan in her arms. She shook her head. “Don’t, Luca. Leave him alone.”

  It was only Nyssa that saved Donovan from the beating Luca sorely wanted to give him. He stepped away at her plea. Donovan collected himself off the ground. Nyssa walked closer. She handed Tristan to Luca. Then she approached Donovan, chocolate eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “I won’t tell you, Donovan Fitzpatrick. But I’ll show you. And I hope what you see is enough to make you think twice before going back down the path you were on. I’ll tell you this as well. If you hurt Kallie in any way, you’ll have me to deal with. And I can get to you from anywhere. Just ask Luca what I’m capable of,” Nyssa hissed.

  Luca knew the look on Donovan’s face. It was a look similar to the one that came over his face months ago when Nyssa showed him the rose dying in the sun. Donovan’s face twisted, his eyes filled with darkness. He crumpled to the ground on his knees and wept.

  “Why didn’t she tell me?” he whispered, tear-streaked face uplifted to the sky.

  “You couldn’t hear any of us when Mallory came back. I hope it takes you years to find her. And I hope the retribution is ten times as painful for you as it was for her when you chose Mallory over her.” Nyssa turned away, face impassive. She took Tristan from Luca’s arms and walked into the cabin without a word.

  Luca did not fear many things, but he feared what Nyssa was capable of. And Donovan Fitzpatrick had only tasted a portion of her power.

  He spat a few feet from where Donovan lay. Without a word, he turned and walked into the cabin where his wife and son were. Let the devil take Donovan Fitzpatrick. It’s what he deserved.

  Chapter 22

  Donovan

  The future stood in front of Donovan. Ugly. Twisted. Empty. Nyssa showed him events encompassing Kallie. She left because of him and his idiotic choice to take back a woman who cared nothing for him. Donovan brushed her aside like trash. The agony gnawing at his gut was nothing compared to what, he was certain, Kallie felt that day. It was too little, too late.

  Donovan did the only thing he could do. He packed supplies for a trip to Walden and set out the next day. The long walk gave him time to think and put things into perspective. As he trudged along, he wondered what went through Kallie’s mind when she took the same path. Had she cried? Had she wondered why he betrayed her? Because those were things he pondered now.

  Mentally beating himself up was the right thing to do. And yet it made him feel worse when he reflected on everything that had happened. Her injury was his fault. The nearly fatal infection was his fault. Her leaving was his fault. Donovan’s actions were impossibly wrong on so many levels.

  He did not pause for rest. Jerky was the only food he took time to eat. Getting to Walden meant everything.

  After hours of walking the gate loomed in front of Donovan. The path into town was dusty. Decay slowly ate away at everything from the world before The Great War. Asphalt crumbled. Wood rotted. And yet this town held on as a testament to the ability of humans to survive in adverse conditions.

  Signs marked each building with its purpose. General store. Hardware. Saloon. None held more than a passing interest until Donovan saw the word Hotel carved into a piece of wood. The desk clerk looked up when he entered but returned to his duties. It took a rap of his knuckle on the desk to draw the clerk’s attention.

  “Can I help you?” the man inquired with one brow raised in question.

  “I’m looking for a woman. Curly red hair, emerald eyes. Have you seen her?”

  “Whorehouse is in the Catacombs, mister.”

  A sigh came at his words. “I didn’t say she was a whore. Kallie is her name. Have you seen anyone matching that description or going by that name? It’s important that I find her.”

  Before the man could answer, the rapid beat of feet upon the stairs drew Donovan’s attention. A tall man wearing a leather vest over a plaid shirt and blue jeans ran into the lobby. His face was pale, blood staining his hands and one knee of his jeans.

  “Get the doctor up to Kallie’s room,” he shouted. “And hurry, it’s an emergency!”

  Donovan followed on the man’s heels when he ran back up the stairs. The door to the room he ran into was unceremoniously slammed in his face but not before he saw Kallie huddled in bed. She was pale, auburn hair a chaotic mess.

  A man Donovan assumed was the doctor entered the room carrying a leather bag. He could hear muffled male voices and a strangled cry of pain. Every bit of wind rushed out of his lungs. Donovan leaned against the wall waiting until both men exited the room. Their hushed conversation continued as they walked down the steps into the lobby.

  Donovan took a deep breath and steeled himself for Kallie’s reaction when he opened the door. There was none. She lay in bed, pale as death, with her eyes closed. Blood stained the floor and commode of the bathroom he passed. A chair sat by the bed. He took a seat after resting the pack on the floor, knowing if he did not, his knees would give way.

  The chair creaked when Donovan sat down. Kallie opened her eyes just enough to see him. Flat, lifeless emerald eyes closed.

  “Kallie?”

  She did not reply, nor did Donovan expect her to. Only the soft sound of her breathing broke the silence. He waited forever it seemed.

  Trying again was tremendously difficult and painful. “Kallie, I’m here.”

  “I saw you the first time,” she muttered. A groan came, her hand going to her belly. The fingers clutched the sheet, digging in until her knuckles blanched.

  “Are you okay?” It was an idiotic question. Of course, s
he was not okay. The blood in the bathroom and the pallor of her skin spoke volumes.

  “I’m just fine, Donovan. Why don’t you head on back to your cabin? I’m good.” The acidic bite of her words cut deep. There was no life in her words, just bitterness and anger.

  “I had to come. What happened, Kallie? I saw blood in the bathroom.”

  “I lost the baby, Donovan. Absolved you of all your responsibilities. If you don’t believe me, go see for yourself. No one bothered to flush the commode after it happened.”

  That explained the blood and the need for the doctor. It also explained her pallor and the groan of what Donovan suspected was pain. There were no clever words to right this wrong. He remained silent.

  The man Donovan assumed was the doctor entered the room again after knocking on the door. He went directly to Kallie with no more than a cursory nod in Donovan’s direction.

  “Are you in pain, Kallie? I can give you an injection if you need it.”

  A muffled word of assent was her only response. The doctor produced a hypodermic syringe, drew medication from a vial, and injected it into Kallie’s hip. Her eyes fluttered closed minutes later when the medication took effect.

  “I’ll check on you later. Have your friend here come get me if the bleeding worsens.” The doctor’s hand pressed against Kallie’s shoulder.

  “He’s no friend. Pritchard will be back soon. I’ll send him if needed.”

  Kallie’s words cut deep regardless of their truth. He sat in silent misery while she slept. A little over an hour later she staggered from the bed into the bathroom. The sound of vomiting followed by the flushing commode came. Yet she did not reappear.

  Donovan found her kneeling on the floor clutching a wet cloth making every effort to remove the dried blood from the floor and commode. A muffled sob came when she rinsed the cloth in the bathtub, crimson-stained water swirling down the drain. He knelt beside her, silently tugging the cloth from her hand. She refused to relinquish it, tear-filled eyes fixed on the floor.

  “I’ll get it, Kallie. Let me help you back to bed.”

  By the time he helped her into bed, blood trickled down both legs. His medical training kicked in. With grim professionalism he washed the blood away before helping her change the blood-soaked sanitary pad and panties. Kallie huddled in a fetal position afterwards without speaking.

  If there was a hell on earth, Donovan knew he sat in its midst. Kallie slept while he cleaned the bathroom. He returned to sit in the chair where events from the past couple of months raced through his mind. All of it was his fault. Kallie’s near death. Her leaving. And now this.

  The tall, gangly man from earlier in the day appeared in the room. He bobbed his head at Donovan before sitting on the bed at Kallie’s side. “You a friend?”

  “Something like that,” Donovan muttered. His heart ached when the stranger took her hand and kissed it gently.

  “I’m Pritchard. She needs all the friends she can get right now. Some asshole got her pregnant then went back to a cheating girlfriend from his past. Never offered to help her when she found out she was pregnant. She deserves better than that. And now this,” Pritchard said with a wave of one hand. “What’s your name, friend?”

  “Donovan Fitzpatrick.” At any other time, he would have felt pride at an introduction. His service with the resistance meant a great deal to normal people. Hell, it meant a lot to him keeping One World from taking over.

  Until now. There was no pride, no honor felt upon speaking his name. He carried the label of being the asshole who took advantage of an innocent beauty and left her high and dry.

  Pritchard snorted and looked away before caressing Kallie’s cheek. The caring gesture made bile rise in Donovan’s throat.

  “You don’t deserve a second chance,” Pritchard said in a soft voice. “I’ll be back later. Don’t hurt her again.”

  There was the warning Donovan expected. His grunt was Pritchard’s only response.

  Pritchard cared for her. That much was apparent from his behavior. The man went so far as to kiss her forehead before standing up and leaving.

  He spent the night in the chair, miserable in more ways than one could imagine. Each time Kallie moved or made a sound, he was there. She only accepted water if offered. The emerald eyes that once brimmed with love when cast in his direction were flat and devoid of emotion.

  An uphill battle remained. One he hoped to win.

  Chapter 23

  Kallie

  Donovan staked his claim and refused to leave Kallie’s room. She expected nothing less. After the blood loss she was too weak to care. He stayed for two weeks, never leaving her side. Kallie’s every need was met with his grim dedication. Where was this Donovan weeks or days ago when she needed him most?

  It was a question Kallie did not care to have answered.

  Although not fully healed, Kallie’s body was stronger than two weeks before. Donovan left the room to eat dinner in the dining room downstairs. It gave her time to plan the departure. The decision was made with no regrets. She packed the few things she called her own, slung the backpack over one shoulder, and walked down the stairs to the lobby.

  The clerk gladly refunded the money paid in advance. He questioned Kallie’s intent briefly but dug no deeper when she cut him off. The clerk agreed to give Pritchard a letter she wrote explaining the sudden departure. She hoped it would be enough for him to understand. He was a good man she hated leaving without a goodbye.

  Kallie made it off the hotel’s porch before Donovan appeared behind her.

  “Kallie? Where are you going?” he asked while walking at her side.

  “Somewhere other than here.” It was all he needed to know.

  Nyssa was the only one who knew the specifics. Nyssa maintained contact with Kallie inside her head. She and Luca both knew of recent events and were not pleased with Donovan’s appearance.

  Donovan tried to keep up. His attempt at shadowing Kallie failed when he realized his pack and supplies remained in the hotel room. The frantic pace he set heading back to the hotel would not be enough to keep up with her. She knew the woodland and every shelter between Walden, Luca’s cabin, and Arkala.

  The first night Kallie made camp beneath a rocky overhang halfway between Walden and Luca’s cabin. Brush piled high around the perimeter kept anyone from seeing the fire’s faint flickering flame. She fell asleep without bothering to eat.

  The next day passed much as the one before. Kallie’s feet automatically found the path leading to Luca and Nyssa. She wanted to see them briefly before she found the place that beckoned. A deep, overwhelming sadness filled her heart. It grew stronger with each step toward what once was her home, even if for a brief time.

  Nyssa and Luca welcomed Kallie with open arms. Tristan tugged her hair, spewed spit bubbles, and stole her heart once more. She refused to cry when the baby’s presence woke agonizing memories of the loss.

  Kallie’s friends begged her to stay. She promised to visit occasionally. The big open space out yonder called her name, for now. Working through the grief was her only intention. Beyond that, Kallie had no clue how life would be. Darkness became her ever-present companion.

  The same cave that Kallie made home weeks ago became her home once more. Pine boughs piled upon the brush darkened the interior. A fresh bed of grass softened the rocky ground. Kallie stared into flickering flames that night until sleep overwhelmed her.

  An abandoned home a few miles from Kallie’s shelter beckoned. She knew the forgotten, unseen treasures that lay within. It was a family home once filled with laughter and love. Now it sank further into decay. A rusting, broken swing set squeaked as a dangling seat moved with the wind.

  Kallie pushed the broken door open. Anything of value was scavenged months ago. It was not apparent value she sought. Sentimental, bewitching, solemn. It came into view in a child’s room. A life-like doll with a bottle, diapers, sleepers, and receiving blankets. Tossed aside like trash when the family who lived he
re fled.

  The doll felt right cradled in Kallie’s arms. She hummed a lullaby as she pushed on toward the cave. Darkness was coming soon and Cherish feared the dark.

  Once inside the shelter, Kallie built the fire and drank water from the canteen until her stomach ached.

  Cherish lay at Kallie’s side, wrapped securely in a fuzzy blanket. She rocked Cherish when she cried.

  She held Cherish, bottle pressed against the tiny mouth. She refused to nurse. No. Reacting with anger or frustration would only frighten Cherish. So, Kallie rocked her instead. The babe fell asleep in her arms and remained safely at her side all night.

  The first few days Kallie and Cherish bonded. Kallie remembered an old midwife telling her that babies bond through contact with their mother’s skin. “I forgot, Cherish. I’ll fix it. Promise.”

  Buttons loosened, shirt spread open, Kallie clutched Cherish to her breast. Rocking. Shushing. Humming. Soothing. Cherish knew her mother’s scent, her heartbeat.

  The next day Kallie took Cherish to visit Luca and Nyssa. Tristan doddled along, holding one piece of furniture or another as he walked. He was unimpressed with the introduction to his new playmate.

  Luca and Nyssa smiled politely when Kallie introduced Cherish. Luca declined Kallie’s offer to hold the babe, sharing that he was much too nervous to hold a child so small. Nyssa took Cherish with the practiced ease of a mother.

  A knock came at their door. Donovan’s golden head popped inside. Kallie’s blood ran cold at the sight of him. She snatched Cherish from Nyssa’s arms and fled before he could follow. Nyssa understood, at least that’s what she whispered in Kallie’s head that night.

  Cherish grew fussy and confused by the sudden appearance of her father. Kallie shushed the babe before launching into the story of what came between them. For hours she presented it, never omitting important details. Cherish refused to understand how Donovan could leave so suddenly without an explanation. Kallie found it difficult to understand as well.