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He felt so much guilt about Kate that it was impossible to think his mind could handle any more. But here it was, piling on.
He was my best friend.
“He was my best friend, too,” said Hunter, and it wasn’t until he spoke that he realized he was crying again.
His mother put her hand over his. He didn’t deserve it, but she left it there and squeezed. “I know,” she said quietly. “I know.”
“And I don’t hate you. I just—I just—”
She touched his face. “You just what?”
Hunter brushed her hand away. He didn’t deserve her kindness. Not with what he was about to say. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
“He was using you,” Hunter said, almost choking on the words. “You’ve spent all these months crying over a man who was using you. He wasn’t your best friend. He wasn’t mine.”
Then he couldn’t hold on to the emotion anymore, after weeks—months—of trying to keep it at bay. He was crying in earnest.
His mother shifted closer and put her hands on his face again. “Hunter, your father was not using me. And he definitely wasn’t using you.”
“He was. He told me he was.”
She sighed, and then her mouth set into a thin line. “Your father and I had a lot of disagreements about the things he was telling you.”
He frowned and wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
She continued, “He’s not here to defend himself, so I won’t criticize the choices he made. But I loved him, and I never doubted his love for me.” Her hand went over his. “Or for you.”
His throat felt tight again. “He never thought I was good enough.”
“That’s not true. He didn’t want you to have to do the things he did. When your abilities became clear, he didn’t want to send you off to have the compassion beaten out of you. He trained you himself so he could claim that he did a better job. He told you that I knew nothing so I’d be safe if anyone ever found out about you. Do you understand that? Do you know enough now?”
He felt like he understood nothing.
She squeezed his hands fiercely. “He told you to use people so you’d protect your heart, Hunter.” Her voice broke again. “Because love always carries the risk of loss.”
Hunter squeezed his eyes shut and thought of Kate.
“He was never disappointed in you, Hunter. Never.”
“You don’t know that.”
She sighed and touched his cheek. He didn’t want to accept her comfort—but he so did.
“Remember those files I gave you?”
His eyes opened. “Yes.”
“Your dad set those aside before he left. He said to give them to you if he didn’t make it back.” She frowned. “But then he took you with him, and then the car crash—”
“Why didn’t you give them to me before now?” he demanded.
“Because I didn’t want you in danger!” She paused to compose herself. “And you were just so furious, and you wouldn’t talk to me—you went so far as to change how you looked—”
“Because I hated looking like him! I hated the reminder every time I looked in the mirror! I hated knowing I’d failed him—”
“You didn’t fail him, Hunter. You never failed him.” Her eyes were shining with fresh tears. “You wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t know what you’d do if I gave you those files. But then the fires happened, and the news released information about the pentagrams—I realized you were in the thick of it, firing blind. I realized I’d been wrong to keep the information from you.”
Hunter rubbed his hands across his face. “It didn’t help. I don’t know what it all means. Did he expect me to kill all those kids on his behalf? Did he expect me to kill the Merricks if he failed?”
