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HUNTER
“I’ve made arrangements with your grandparents,” I hear Dad say while I look out the window. “Your grandfather is being a big pain in the ass about all the funeral details.”
I close my eyes, trying to stop the sob from welling in my throat. How can he talk about all this so easily? I inhale deeply to calm my pounding heart, wishing I could just drown out this unending pain with something. Anything.
“Hunter?”
I grind my teeth, my head lulling from side to side in the seat of the car while I try to ignore the breaking of my heart and the pain in my shoulder.
“Hunter?” Dad says louder this time, almost shouting.
An angry sigh escapes my lips and turn toward him. “What?” I say, my tone filled with bite.
Dad glances away from the road for a moment, his brow furrowed in worry. “I’d like it if you’d answer me when I say your name,” he says.
I shake my head. He’s nitpicking again. He’s always nitpicking, talking, being absolutely annoying. “Whatever,” I mumble while turning my gaze back to the window, watching houses pass us by. We’re in town today. Dad insisted I remain home for a few days rather than return to my apartment with Seth and Lucas. Unfortunately, my friends didn’t fight with my dad, thinking it best I get some family time in.
Like they know what’s best for me.
“I really wish you would change your mind about school.”
I ignore him. I don’t want to stay home. I cross my arms to keep them from shaking. Home is so painful for me to be in right now. I keep seeing images of Mom in the kitchen, making breakfast. Or in the living room drinking a glass of wine while she watches that housewives TV she loved so much. Even being in my room, I can’t help but picturing her striding inside with a basket full of laundry, dumping it all on my bed and demanding I clean up after myself.
I sniff and bite my bottom lip. Tears threaten to stream down my face at the memories. I sniff and wipe my eyes as Dad pulls into the parking lot. Quickly, I undo my seatbelt and throw the door open, stalking up the stairs and into the office.
“At least think about it!” Dad calls after me.
I look around in the office, not knowing exactly where to go or what to do. It’s my first time in this place. I never needed a therapist before. I still don’t think I need one now, but Dad insisted and Rachel messaged me that she thought it would be best if I at least tried one session.
The door jingles behind me and glancing over my shoulder, I see its Dad, following in after me. I purse my lips and I stare at him with a glare. “What are you doing?” I whisper, before looking around, catching the curious look of the receptionist sitting behind the desk.
“I thought I might as well have a look around,” he says while striding pass me and towards the main desk.
“Why?” I murmur before dumping myself into a seat, crossing my arms and glaring at Dad’s back.
“Hello,” I hear him say, “we’re here to see Dr. Forrester.”
I roll my eyes. We? When did this become a ‘we’ operation? This is supposed to be for me and honestly if I had any say in it, I would have promptly told Dad to ‘fuck off’. Unfortunately, I can’t really say that to him, since he is my father and all. Well, on paper.
“Alright, here are some papers for you to fill out and she should be out in just a moment,” the receptionist says with a smile.
My phone buzzes and I’m thankful for the distraction as Dad turns around and walks towards me. Dad bought me another phone after realizing that I had ‘lost’ mine. I didn’t tell him the full truth, since I didn’t want him to find out about what I had been doing at this point. The less he knows the better. It’s a secondhand phone, but it works well enough and I can keep my old number. The only problem is getting everyone’s contact details.
I frown when I look at the screen, expecting to see Rachel or one of the bros’ names. Instead, I see a foreign number. Clicking on the text, the message opens and my frown deepens.
Hey sexy, wanna meet up later for some drinks?
It’s obviously from Millie. Who else could it be? Rachel doesn’t speak like that. My stomach twists while I stare down at the message, wanting to tell her ‘yes’ when I should be saying ‘no’ I shouldn’t be drinking. And wherever Millie is, there is sure to be Drew and Jerry. What if Jerry told Millie to text me so he could get more money out of me?
What if he does more damage to my body than last time?
I had been lucky to come out of the whole mess with only a concussion and several, very painful, bruises. I groan at the memory, as if Jerry is still towering above me, slamming his bat into my flesh.
“Hunter, are you alright?”
I turn and see Dad staring at me with worry. He looks at me differently these days, like at any moment I’m going to break down. I worry that he suspects what’s been going on, but I’ve decided I’m never going to tell him. He doesn’t need to know. I nod and shove my cell in my pants pocket. “Fine,” I say while leaning back in my chair, staring up at the bright ceiling light while waiting.
“You know, you can tell me anything.”
