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As for the potential threat of someone using me to get to him, I understand that, too. But I’m not the only person Huff loves. His parents and Kyle could also be used as leverage. My point is that I was left out in the cold, heartbroken and mourning for months for no logical reason.
Then there’s the other stuff: my heart kept telling me he was still alive, while everyone around me kept saying I had to let him go.
Even today, my own parents keep threatening to have me locked up in a mental hospital because I refuse to accept Huff’s death or seek professional help. I just didn’t see the point when I was only listening to my heart, and in my mind it didn’t need curing. It just needed answers. If Huff was truly dead, then someone needed to explain a few things…
For example, on the day Huff “died,” I watched him collapse in the hospital stairwell. Huff had just delivered a three-month supply of Morris’s “muscle juice” so everyone who was hooked on it could buy more time while the doctors looked for a long-term solution. Huff knew he’d been exposed to a super-concentrated, bastardized version of the formula but refused to take the drug even if it could save his life. He was worried he’d lose control and hurt me.
And who could blame him?
Blake, this guy who went to my college, claimed to be in love with me, but after a few months of injections, he became a violent monster. Huff witnessed Blake sexually assault me firsthand. And while Huff arrived just in time to stop the worst from happening, seeing Blake attack me must’ve left a scar on Huff like it did me. But for Huff, who never got over the violent murder of his sister Joy, Blake’s attack meant something different. It was a moment Huff’d been dreading for years: confronting his ghosts.
My point is that we’ve both been through some pretty heartbreaking stuff, so why would he do this do me? And how could Huff ever believe I’d buy his fake-ass death when we have a connection that goes beyond normal?
Also, I’m not dumb. I knew something was up the moment they wheeled him out of the ER that day, covered in a sheet.
Someone please explain why men in scrubs would be running,notwalking, a dead man out of there? What was the hurry if Huff were truly gone?
And just why were there so many news crews and reporters at his funeral? Because Kyle wanted the world to see that his brother was dead.
It smelled like a big, fat hoax to me.
All this leads to my final point, why I’m really hurt. After years of hiding my feelings, I finally confessed I was in love with him, and Huff claimed he loved me back. It was this magical moment I’d dreamed of for years. I believed that Huff, who knew me better than anyone, whom I’d shared my most private thoughts with, was my soulmate. So when he says he’d do anything for me, I can’t wrap my head around why he wouldn’t trust me with the truth. Honesty was always the cornerstone of our relationship. Faking his death and letting me go through all those tears and anguish is a betrayal I can’t live with no matter how much I love him.
“For the record, Huff, you’re right. I did come here expecting some groveling, but I never planned to get back together with you. How could I when what you did was worse than lying. It was…cruel.”
“River,” he sits on the couch, “I did it to protect you.”
“See. That’s the difference between you and me. I never thought it was my job to save you, Huff. I felt it was my job to love you unconditionally and be by your side no matter what. Hudson River. One body of water.”
He drops his head in his hands and presses, his thick biceps flexing. They remind me of melon halves. I still can’t get over how big he is—the thick neck with pronounced Adam’s apple, the wide chest, and…well, the monster cock. Holy crap, it’s huge.
Still, he is and will always be my Huff—sweet, kind, and smart (most of the time). I don’t care if he looks like a menacing weapon.
He drops his hands. “You don’t understand how dangerous I can be. I take precautions to stay in control and not give in to the rage, but it’s there—always festering just beneath the surface.”
Excuses. Excuses. Excuses.“Ohhh, stop it! You’d never hurt me physically. You’re just using all this crap to make yourselffeellike a hero—look at me, I’m Huff. I’m saving the girl I love,” I whine, mocking him. “The truth is that you’re a fucking coward, Huff! Because a truly brave guy would fight for us. He’d fight forme.He wouldn’t run or hide or let anyone get between us. But you? You’re not even willing to lift one finger, which is ironic because the last time I checked, if anyone could protect me, it would be you.” I shake my head in disgust. “You’re no hero, Huff. You’re just a big, fat pussy who doesn’t deserve me. I honestly don’t know why I loved you in the first place.”
Suddenly, his head whips up, and his bright blue eyes are turning dark. Something’s shifted. “Take that back,” he snarls.
I step away. He gets up off the couch and steps forward.
Maybe calling him a pussy wasn’t such a smart choice. “Huff? You okay?”
“No. You keep talking and pushing and fucking with my head, but who the hell are you? Some dumbass chick who’s had everything handed to her.”
Ah. I get it.This is like the time Huff tried to run me off after he thought he’d killed my attacker at school with a simple thought. The autopsy later determined it was Morris’s drug that caused the heart attack, but Huff believed he was killing people with his hate, so he pushed me away.
“The tough-guy act isn’t going to work this time, Huff. So cut the crap.”
His lips curl, and the veins in his neck bulge. “I’m not acting, River. You should go. Now.” He saysnowlike it’s an “or else” situation.
I step forward and slap his face. “Don’t you fucking threaten me.”
He blinks, and his face turns from a bright red to a normal shade of golden brown—he’s got a great tan going. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what…” He turns and disappears into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
I gasp and cover my mouth.Holy shit. He wasn’t putting on an act right now?
A frosty dread spikes through my stomach. He really was about to hurt me.
