Four
Skye
Hunter rode down the street, finding a speed that didn’t have me clutching him so tightly. I felt his chest vibrate with laughter when I yelped or tightened my hold as we rode over bumps, and I’d have smacked him if I wasn’t so utterly terrified.
Not far away, he parked on the side of the road atop a hill overlooking the ocean, and then we sat there for several minutes, our breaths clouding around us. It was icy cold, I was in just a sweater, but being away from the crowd of people was a nice break.
“I wouldn’t have hit him,” he suddenly said, quietly.
I bumped my forehead against his back. “Are you sure about that?”
He was resolute. “I’m sure.”
I wanted to believe that, but I couldn’t stop thinking of the dark look in his eyes when Miles kept pushing him. Not only was Hunter scary when he turned, he was unrecognizable.
“You change when you’re angry,” I admitted, carefully.
I felt his sudden stillness. “I don’t mean to.”
“What happens when you’re like that?”
“I hide inside myself. I let something else come out.”
Everyone called that something else a “savage.” I had a feeling Hunter pushed that side of him out as he fought to contain himself. What Miles did might have held a purpose in their club, but I didn’t believe it made it okay to provoke Hunter like that.
“What does it mean to go on the Road?” I asked him next.
“It means I’m given an official role,” he answered. “I’m part of the club politics now.”
“You weren’t before?”
“I was, but…having an official role means I get to climb the ranks.”
“I keep hearing that word,” I mused, thoughtfully. “Why is it so important to climb the ranks, Hunt?”
“Because I want to make something of myself,” he expressed softly. “It’s not enough that I’m a Warlord, I want toleadone day, Skye.”
“Can’t do that in a corporate setting?” I joked.
He didn’t laugh. “People like me, we don’t fit the mould out there in the real world. I’d never make it.”
“How are you so sure?”
He sighed. “Because look at me. I’m defiant and violent. I clash heads with everyone—”
“Not the club.”
“Because they nurture me to be obedient.”
Did they, though? Because back there it felt like Miles was goading him into hurting him, like he wanted him to fail. How was that nurturing? Or was I not seeing it from their side? Did I even want to?
I didn’t know, but what I did know was that I didn’t like that he felt he couldn’t make it in the everyday world. I felt sour that he strongly believed he could only make it in life if he was part of a club. Leo’s words bounced around my head, and I didn’t want to think it, but I did worry that he had been brainwashed by them. I wasn’t going to ruin the mood by expressing that; it wasn’t the time nor place.
“Congratulations on the bike,” I said, pressing a kiss against his back. “It’s really nice.”
His voice was low, unreadable. “You disapprove.”
“No, it’s a nice bike—”