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“Hunter? Are you all right? Why did you leave? Are you hurt?” She bombarded him with questions. I reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back.
“I’ve got him,” I told her while I bent down to pick Hunter up.
He barely weighed more than a sack of potatoes. I carried him to the car and climbed in the back seat with him still in my arms. I could feel him moving against me so I knew he was ok, but he didn’t want to talk.
Julie looked down at us. “Thank you,” she whispered.
14
Julie
Hawk had swapped seats with me. I held Hunter close. I inhaled the scent of his hair. He smelled like a boy. That outside earthy smell mixed with traces of soap and maybe a hint of pencil.
I looked outside the car. Hawk was on the phone. He said he would call the home so I could sit with Hunter. The minutes felt fleeting, as if I had to absorb all the pain and fear running through this child’s body.
I smoothed his hair. “It’s going to be ok. You know that, right?”
He shook his head.
“
Look at me, Hunter,” I urged.
His tear-stained face was enough to break anyone’s heart.
“I want to help. So does Kane. And everyone at the home was worried sick about you. Everyone cares.”
He shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.
“You don’t have to say anything, but know that I care about you more than anything else. You’re safe now. We’ll make sure you get home.”
“It’s not home,” he squeaked.
Hawk had finished the phone call and stooped his head to check on us in the car. “Everything ok in here?” he asked.
Hunter shook his head.
“Slide,” he directed me, and I scooted to the center of the backseat with Hunter’s arms wrapped around my neck. It was close and warm in the backseat, all three of us wedged in together.
“I told them we would drive Hunter home and they could expect us in about twenty minutes.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“No problem.” He turned to Hunter. “What made you wander over here, big guy?”
Hunter shrugged.
“Can I tell you a story about when I was a kid?”
I wanted to interrupt and tell him this wasn’t the time for one of his sports tales, but I bit my tongue and let him talk. Hunter seemed to respond to him and he had been more outgoing and excited in the past week than I’d ever seen him before.
Hawk continued. “Something really bad happened to me. Something I never talk about.”
I couldn’t look away. It was something in his voice. Something raw and real. A genuineness I didn’t know he possessed.
“I was eight when my dad left. Eight years old. Can you believe that?” He looked right at Hunter. “I don’t know why. I don’t know where he went. I don’t know if he ever meant to come back, but he left my mom and me completely alone. It was the hardest damn thing a kid could go through.”
Hunter pushed off of my chest and wiggled free. He wiped a tear from his cheek. “My mom left me.”
