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Normally Hunter would fight them enough to stay alive, to keep his dignity. Anything more always seemed to up the ante.
Today wasn’t the day for that.
It took him less than three minutes to have them both on the ground. Jeremy’s head had collided with a tree trunk, and he lay unconscious in the leaves. Garrett’s arm was pinned behind his back, and he was whimpering. Hunter was all but kneeling on his throat.
And for the first time, Hunter considered driving his knee down, crushing Garrett’s windpipe.
He thought of his father’s question, of whether he could do it.
Thinking and doing were two very different things.
The world would be a better place without a jerk like Garrett Watts.
Just like the world probably would have been a better place without a man like Clare’s father. Hunter’s dad was right—he should have shot to kill.
But Garrett was a kid. He still had time to figure out what kind of man he was going to be.
So did Hunter.
He stood. “Get your friend out of here,” he said. “If you guys ambush me again, I won’t stop there.”
Then Hunter picked up his backpack and started walking. But he headed for home, instead of school. If his dad was gone, there was no one to crack the whip. He had a lot more use for a day spent sleeping.
When he got there, the car was back in the driveway.
His dad and Uncle Jay were in the kitchen.
They didn’t say anything when Hunter walked in, and he wondered if he could feed them a line about forgetting a textbook.
Then his dad said, “I changed my mind.”
Changed his mind? After everything? Hunter could count on one hand the number of times his father had changed his mind. Now it made Hunter wonder whether he’d made the wrong decision in the woods just now—or the right one.
He dropped his backpack. “You . . . what?”
His dad glanced at Jay. “Your uncle convinced me. Go pack a bag. You can come with us.”
r scowled.
“If nothing else,” said his father, “say you used her for the lesson.”
“What about you?” Hunter snapped.
“Me?”
“Do you use Mom?”
“You keep saying the word use like it’s a bad thing. As if there’s nothing given in return. Your mother wanted security. A family. A husband who would take care of her. She got those things.”
Hunter snorted. “You make my whole existence sound like a barter transaction.”
“Good. Start thinking of every relationship in your life that way.”
“What fun.”
“You can think about it while we’re gone. I think you’ll figure it out.”
“Gone?” Hunter straightened in the chair. “You’re leaving?”
