Page 32 of Hunted
Feeling angry at myself for showing such weakness, I try to wipe away my tears.
I knew she’d gone through something, the others kept alluding to it, butthat… Never would I have guessed something that wretched had happened to her. And what was all of that about a storm scaring her? What the fuck else happened to my girl?
Growling in frustration, I raise my head slowly. Movement catches my attention to the left, and when I see what it is, my eyes go wide in surprise.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Chapter ten
Darla
Weston lifts me effortlessly and carries me back to the firepit, settling into his seat with me cradled in his arms. He shifts me sideways on his lap, my legs draped over one of his thick thighs. One hand strokes gently up and down my leg, the other wraps around my back, holding me close as he begins to sway, slow and steady, grounding me with every movement.
Somehow, my gentle giant always knows how to make me feel safe and protected, although my heart still races in my chest. I can’t believe I told them all of that without completely falling apart.
Although I did tell them the full story, I didn’t tell them all the details. There are some things they will never have to hear. Like how completely broken my dad looked while it happened. Or how painful it was when they tore me open.
Having to move their bodies around while I was naked, since they’d ripped my clothes and my body to shreds, was one of the worst parts. But I couldn’t leave them there. I knew the smell and decay would get worse and I wanted it dealt with.
I also didn’t tell them how I spent weeks hiding in the original hut. Only coming out to grab a couple pieces of fruit and to relieve myself. Now that I think about it, it’s probably the reason I hated being cooped up inside when I sprained my ankle.
“How are you feeling?” Kingsley asks, bringing me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I blink a few times until he comes into focus, sitting beside us with a look of concern on his face.
I shrug, sitting up on Weston’s thigh and planting my feet on the ground as he passes me a waterskin. “Thanks,” I murmur, taking a few long gulps before passing it back.
“Thank you for sharing that with us. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” He reaches out and places his hand on mine, giving it a small squeeze.
I glance up at him, a flicker of nerves in my chest. “You’re not… grossed out by me now?”
“Darla, God no!” He looks genuinely surprised by my question, easing some of my tension. But I can’t help but wonder what they think now. Of course, they still don’t know why storms haunt me so much, nor will they ever find out.
“Tink, you ain’t getting rid of us that easy,” Bower says from behind me, his hand giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze of support.
“Get those thoughts out of your head. We’re not going anywhere. If anything, it makes me even more protective of you,” Weston says, hugging me harder.
“Protective or obsessive?” Bower asks with a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Both,” Weston and I answer at the same time. I pull back and look up at him, then we both chuckle and the tension breaks between us all.
After a minute, I get to my feet and stretch my arms over my head. “I guess we should gather some food—”
BANG!
Our heads turn towards the ocean. That sounded an awful lot like a gunshot. We freeze for a moment, our eyes flicking to one another in confusion before I yell, “Reece!”
Then I spin and start running.
“Zee, no!” Kingsley yells.
At the same time Weston calls, “Stop!”
But I don’t stop. I run as fast as my feet will take me towards the ocean and the first boy I ever loved. I hear the others hollering behind me, begging me to wait, to come back, but I can’t. My body and mind are on the same page; we need to get to Reece. He didn’t have a gun. Which means there’s someone else here.
I don’t slow down when I reach the beach, running out onto the sand as my head swivels in search of him.
By the giant pile of wood that the guys rebuilt and is awaiting to be lit up as another signal fire, I notice Reece sitting on the ground, his back towards me as he peeks around it.
Table of Contents
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- Page 32 (reading here)
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