Page 63 of The Hunter

After passing the bar of soap to his upper hand, Telok drew Lacey’s hair to the side, letting it hang in front of her shoulder. He rubbed the soap against her back and shoulders in slow, soothing circles.

“I already told you I used to be bigger,” she began. “My weight was something I fought with my whole life, ever since I was a kid. I had shit parents. A mom who didn’t want me, and a dad who used me as a verbal punching bag. My mom left when I was seven, and my dad was an alcoholic and a gambler. I was mostly on my own, so I had to take care of myself, eating whatever food was around, which was usually junk food since he never cooked. Food… It became a source of comfort for me. An escape, a high, if only for a brief time. And that habit stuck with me for years.”

Those soothing circles trailed down her spine.

“Which lead to me being fat,” she said, dropping her gaze to her thighs. She ran a finger alongside one of the inflamed scars. “I tried to stay out of the house as much as possible when Dad was home. I hated it when he yelled at me, blaming me for all his problems, calling me names like piggy and fat bitch. But I had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to.”

“You were alone,” Telok said, his gravelly voice soft.

“I was. I didn’t have any close friends, and lived in a trailer in a small town, so everyone knew about my parents. About my dad’s behavior.”

Taking hold of her left wrist, he lifted her arm and moved the soap to her shoulder, gently scrubbing downward. When he reached the scar on the inside of her bicep, he paused to gently stroke it with his thumb before proceeding along her arm.

Lacey watched his ministrations. His hands, so large and lethal with their wicked claws, were tender as he handled her.

“I was determined to finish school,” she continued as he spread her fingers and cleaned between each one. “I wanted to do something with my life. So I studied hard, graduated, and got out of that trailer, away from my father, as fast as I could. I lived out of my junky car for a while, working as much as I could until I was able to save enough for a down payment on a tiny house and to get a little home business running.”

“What is a bizness?” Telok asked as he picked up her other hand and began running the soap along that arm.

“I’m sorry, you probably don’t understand half of those words. Business is what I did for work, like how you’re a hunter and Rekosh is a weaver. My business was making soaps and lotions and things like that. Like the things I make now.”

“Ah.” He gave her forearm a comforting little squeeze. “I do not know all your words, but I understand your story. I will ask when I must know more.”

She nodded and smiled as she watched him lace his fingers with hers and use a claw to meticulously clean under her nails.

He glanced up at her. “You were not done. Talk.”

“You’re pretty invested, huh?”

“I do not know that word, but I want your story.”

Lacey chuckled. Though she hated talking about the past and digging up those old hurts, it was…nice to finally share it with someone. She’d just never thought that someone would be Telok, much less while he was taking immense care in bathing her.

“I was doing all right for myself, and I was happy with what I had accomplished. I loved the things I created and the work I did. But… I don’t know.”

She frowned and stared off into the jungle, only vaguely aware of Telok setting her hand down and cupping handfuls of water to rinse away the soap. “One day I caught myself talking to the goats like they were my best friends, and it just really dawned on me how freaking alone and isolated I was. And I just sat there, surrounded by goat shit, and cried. It’s like, no matter how much you try to run from the past, from yourself, it’s just there lurking, waiting until you’re at your most vulnerable to attack.

“I thought about how my own mother hated me so much that she abandoned me, how my father preferred to drink himself into oblivion, only giving me attention when he wanted to say cruel things to make me feel like shit. His own daughter, his flesh and blood. His words burrowed deep into my brain like a parasite. Every time I looked in the mirror, every time I saw myself, all I could think about were the horrible things he’d said and how unloved and unwanted I was. And that made me hate myself. All I could see was the ugly.”

Lacey looked down at the flowing water, but all she could see was the ghost of her father’s face with his reddened cheeks and glassy, hateful eyes staring at her. Even over the sound of the stream, she could hear the echoes of his shouted words. Could hear all those hurtful things from across the vast span of time and space.

“That’s why it hurt so much when you changed toward me,” she said, voice thick as tears welled in her eyes. “When I…when I thought you hated me. I felt abandoned all over again.”

Telok repeated that buzzing sound, this time even more distressed and sorrowful than before. Placing a hand on her cheek, he turned her face toward him and leaned down, tipping his headcrest against her forehead. “I did not hate you. Could never hate you. I felt…much for you. I feel much. And…”

He growled low in frustration before rasping, “Kir ven’dak ithaa ikarex saal ikar arvok kir shendar. Kir ven’dak unir arvok saal najar othan.”

I do not have the words to say what I feel. I do not know what to call them.

The depth of emotion in his tone told her more than the words he did not possess ever could have.

Lifting his head, Telok met her gaze and carefully combed his claws through her wet hair. “I will not let you be alone.”

Lacey smiled through her tears and lightly touched his jaw beneath his mandibles. “Promise?”

“Kir rayathi kir’ani ikarex elush ul sythal.”

I weave my words into a bond.