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I push Tim higher up against the wall and he lets me. The jackass could probably put up a serious fight, which pisses me off even more.
“Hunter,” Drew orders again, taking a step closer to me.
Timothy grunts at him. “Drew, stay the fuck out of this. This is between me and Hunter.”
“Tim,” Drew pleads. But Timothy shakes his head while I let him go and box him in.
“I don’t want to but she is in so much pain.”
“Don’t you think I don’t know?” I scream in his face, my hold on him faltering. “Don’t you think her not being able to walk, to eat, to go to the toilet alone or take a fucking shower doesn’t tear my soul in two?” I seethe, blind with rage.
He jerks me into his body. “I know,” he whispers, shaking me, making me look at him. “I fucking know, and I hate myself for not being able to give her what she wants.”
“Do you?” I push him against the wall again.
“Let her hate me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking. “Not you.”
I swallow back the bile in my throat. All the adrenaline leaves my body. Tim pulls me against his chest and holds me in his arms, and I close my eyes. He lets me go and our faces are wet with tears.
“Damn,” I huff, brushing my hands across my face. “Why the fuck do I keep hugging people and breaking down whenever the moment strikes?”
Drew sets the table back, he passes me and takes my face between his hands, kissing my cheek.
“What was that for?” I ask, staring at the tattoos that decorate my hands.
“For not killing him.” Drew grins, as he takes a seat next to Tim, and hands him the pack of cigarettes from the floor, their fingers skimming each other.
“What should I do, Tim?” I ask desperately.
“Go to her and tell her I’m sorry I can’t fucking do it,” he murmurs.
I grab his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”
After I close the door behind me and look through the window, Drew takes Tim in his arms as he breaks, clutching Drew’s shirt between his fists, his body shaking.
I walk up to the house.
Before I can knock on the front door, Jay opens it. “Hunt, I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says to me.
I shake my head. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” I apologize, following him in. Marian is stirring a steaming pot on the stove as the scent of garlic and tomato fills the air. She gives me a smile when she notices me. “Staying for dinner, Hunter?” I nod, swallowing back the lump in my throat.
“Come here, you son of a bitch.” Jay’s voice breaks as he takes me into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Jay.” I bury my face in his chest.
He sighs, still embracing me. “Right back at ya, kid. Right back at ya.”
