Page 114 of Only the Hunter

When we’re ready.

What does that even mean?

Are we not ready now?

Or was he not ready for Scott to know?

Of course, then again, do I want Scott to know? It’s not his business who I fuck, to use his crass terminology. It’s definitely not my father’s.

Frustrated, I select a movie and give it half my attention. The other half turns the conversation over. Managed. That’s the word. The same way my father manages situations. The same way men who care too much and trust too little always manage. By the time the cabin lights dim, managed has become something uglier.

Hours later, the flight attendants begin their final cabin check. I close my laptop and stow it beneath the seat.

Gabe leans over his armrest.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

“Fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

I turn to face him. “Are you ashamed of this? Of us?”

His eyes widen slightly. “What? No. Why would you⁠—”

“You didn’t want to tell Scott.”

“Evie—”

“Never mind. It’s fine.”

He reaches for my hand. I pull it away.

“Evie—”

“Don’t,” I say. “If the plan is to keep it all on the down low, we need to stick to the plan.”

“Evie, that’s not what this is,” he says, voice low and firm. “I’m protecting you.”

“From what?”

“From Scott making it weird before we know what this is. From your father interfering.”

“So you don’t know what this is.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what are you saying?”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Scott will have opinions—and he’s better managed in person. Your father…let’s be honest. He’s got ideas for what he wants for you, and I’m not it.”

I open my mouth. Close it. He’s probably right. That’s the infuriating part.

“So we lie,” I say flatly.

“We’re strategic,” he corrects gently. “There’s a difference.”

I look away, jaw tight. The gentleness is what hurts.