Twenty-One
Skye
I wanted to keep walking, so I did. And I knew I shouldn’t have done that because technically it wasn’t safe, but who the fuck was going to know right now? Did the threat that constantly loomed over me not have a life of their own? Would they spend every fucking minute watching me, waiting to strike?
I doubted that.
I walked and walked, until I was strolling down the sidewalk in the dark, not a soul in sight. Still in my t-shirt, smelling like the pub, I strode like I knew where I was going, but I didn’t. Not when my mind was in such a blur. I just knew I needed a few minutes to myself. To be like the old me who went on her walks after life turned to shit because it was the only time I ever got to myself.
It was only minutes when I heard the roar of a motorcycle nearing. I didn’t turn to stare at the giant bike as it slowed down beside me. I walked faster, crossing my arms against the cold as the engine revved and took off down the road, turning to stop directly in front of me. I looked up at Hunter as he kicked the stand down and climbed off. His arms were spread out as he towered over me, demanding, “What the hell are you doing, Skye?”
“Walking,” I retorted, continuing past him.
“Not safe out here, Nugget—”
“I don’t care!” I yelled, swallowing down my thick emotion. “Let me walk, Hunt!”
He didn’t respond, but I knew he was following me. I didn’t have to turn around. I felt him feet behind me, silent like a ghost.
Finally, he said, “Faden didn’t mean what he said. He says stupid shit when he’s drunk. He’ll apologize in the morning—”
“Sure,” I cut in, waving him off. “Whatever you say, Hunt.”
“He’s sick—been sick a while. I’d have crushed his skull if he was like the others,” he said resolutely. “No one disrespects my girl.”
A shiver ran down my spine as I kept my mouth shut and kept walking. Maybe—okay, maybe I liked that he defended me, but it was Miles I wished he’d done that to. Miles with his weird as fuck vibes who pissed me off more than anyone in life ever had.
“Why are you running?” he whispered now, sounding closer.
“I’m walking,” I corrected him icily.
“You’re running, Nugget.”
“No.”
“Skye.”
I stopped abruptly and spun around to look at this massive man that loomed over me like a goddamn giant. “Because sometimes I need a minute, Hunt.”
His eyes warmly regarded me as he said, “So youarestifled.”
I didn’t reply. I ran a hand over my face, trying to keep the tears in. “Just give me a minute, Hunt, okay?”
He went quiet, looking me over before sliding his jacket off. “Wear my jacket.”
“I don’t want to wear it—”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
His face dropped. “Wear it, Skye!”
“Quit ordering me around!”
“Quit being stubborn!”
I yanked the jacket out of his hand and slipped it on. Immediately his warmth and scent was all around me, and I had to take a moment to inhale him into my lungs. I didn’t need to worry if he was cold. He looked completely unaffected by the wind as it continued to slam into us.