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Disappointment.
Invisible.
Forgotten.
I lower my shirt, go to the bathroom, and clean and bandage the wound. Then I return to my room and sink down onto my bed, sitting in the middle of my drug stash that he just left in here, probably trying to send me some sort of cryptic message—my uncle really likes his mind games. What the message is, I haven’t got a clue. And I really don’t care.
Shoving the drugs out of the way, I lie down and close my eyes, trying not to think of anything other than sleep. Because sleep means forgetting. Of course, being an insomniac complicates that. So, eventually, and even though it’s a bold move, I grab a joint and head over to my window.
I’m about to open it and light up when I spot someone creeping around in the backyard. As far as I know, my aunt and Dixie May aren’t here, probably because my uncle sent them away so he could torment me in private. Dixie May thought telling her dad about my stash would lead to me getting arrested, so she’s going to be severely disappointed when she realizes she’s wrong.
I’m not sure if I am. If jail sounds any worse than what just happened.
I bounce back and forth between which one sounds worse as I watch the figure as it moves through the yard. At first, I think it’s my uncle, going out there to try to burn the pendant again. But this person is moving like a stealthy ninja, and that’s something my uncle definitely isn’t.
If I cared, I’d tell my uncle, but honestly, part me hopes it’s a car thief about to steal my uncle’s car. But that hope gets squashed as the moonlight casts across the person at just the right angle so that I can make out their face …
My jaw drops. “Hunter?”
What in the actual hell?
I watch as he moves closer to the house. He’s wearing all black, so it’s hard to keep track of him, but his blond hair stands out against the darkness just enough.
After spying on him for a while and trying to figure out what the heck he’s doing, I decide I’m just going to go out there. It could be a risky move, depending on if he’s trying to rob us or not, but at this point, I don’t really care.
Slipping on my jacket, I carefully step out of my bedroom and shut the door behind me. Then I tiptoe down the stairs, moving slowly, partly to be quiet and partly because my side hurts like a little beotch. When I reach the bottom, I sneak a glance toward the kitchen. The light is on, and I can see my uncle sitting at the table, staring at the pendant he jerked off me.
What’s his deal with that thing? I hadn’t thought about it too much when I picked it up, but with the way he acted when he saw it on me … Something’s up, and I want to find out what.
I make a mental note to look into it, even though I’m unsure where to start, then I quietly walk over to the front door and sneak outside. The front porch light isn’t on, so I easily make my way around to the back without being seen.
Instead of stepping out into the open, I pause at the edge of the house and peer around for Hunter. He’s gotten closer to the house, right beside it, and is hunkering down below the kitchen window where my uncle is.
At this point, I’m unsure how to proceed. I mean, the entire situation is bizarre.
“I’m not sure,” Hunter suddenly whispers, startling me. “I can look through the window, but I’m worried someone is in there.”
I squint against the darkness to see who he’s talking to and manage to make out that he has what looks like his phone in his hand.
“I know,” he whispers. “But … I just don’t want to get caught, okay?” He pauses again. “The only way to see if he’s in there is to look through the window, but what if he’s right there?”
Don’t ask me why I do what I do next. Maybe my mind is so drained that I’m not thinking clearly. Whatever the reason, I say, “If you’re talking about my uncle, he’s right in the kitchen. And if you look through that window, he’ll for sure see you.”
Hunter lets out a string of curses then pauses. “Raven?”
“Yeah.” I step out from my hiding space, and he moves out from underneath the window, straightening.
“What’re you doing out here?” he asks, sounding on edge.
I inch toward him. “Shouldn’t I be asking that question?”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Look, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“So, you’re not trying to spy on my uncle?”
“Okay, maybe it is exactly what it looks like.”
Crickets chirp in the distance as a beat of silence ticks by.
