This was more like erasure. He dropped to his knees and touched a hand to the ground.
The last twenty-four hours had gone too fast. From mistrust to friendship to—to what? He felt like he’d almost caught something precious, only to have it shatter as soon as he touched it.
He knew better than anyone how life could change in the blink of an eye.
But this—this seemed too unfair. His throat tightened and made it hard to breathe again.
He had nothing to remember her. Nothing. Not even a picture. He didn’t even have her texts on his cell phone.
The phone.
He fished her phone out of his pocket. What had Silver said?
I’d say the idiotic move was turning on your cell phone.
He’d been tracking her. Hunter turned it off.
But he put it back in his pocket.
She’d mentioned sacrifice. She’d done this for him, lost her life to protect him.
Well, hell if he was going to let that go to waste.
He looked up at Michael. He couldn’t talk.
So he just stood up and started walking.
They sure as hell couldn’t drive his jeep anywhere. But Michael didn’t have the truck or their SUV—he had a rental car.
Casper was locked inside.
That was shocking enough to make Hunter stop short.
Michael shrugged. “He was in the woods. I saw him first. I didn’t want him to get hurt.”
Hunter nodded. He knew he should say thanks—but he wasn’t ready to thank Michael for anything yet. He didn’t care about this car or why Michael had it. He didn’t even care where they were going.
But when he climbed in the car, Casper put his head on Hunter’s shoulder and whined. Hunter rubbed the dog’s muzzle.
Michael pulled a phone out of his pocket and dialed. When whoever answered, he spoke low. “Hey, it’s Michael. Can you meet us at the hotel? Yeah, I found him.”
Had to be Hannah.
Hunter’s throat felt thick again.
He still couldn’t believe Kate was dead.
Gone.
He was shaking again.
One girl, reduced to nothing more than a memory and a cell phone. Her mother was dead and she’d never mentioned a father—would anyone else even miss her?
With a start, he realized he didn’t even know if Kate Sullivan was her real name.
And he wasn’t sure how much of his reaction was shock and how much was mourning. He’d known her a week. Somehow it felt like a lifetime, so much intensity crammed into such a short span of days.
Hell, so much intensity crammed into the last twelve hours.
They’d escaped Silver at the Merrick house only to . . . what? It would have been easier if this had happened there.
Fate must f**king hate him.
He could still remember the smell of her hair, the way her skin felt under his fingertips.
The whole thing was senseless.
“You okay?” said Michael.
Hunter shook his head. He had to press his fists into his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Michael said. His voice was rough. “Jesus, kid. I’m sorry.” He put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder.
And that—that—was too much. Hunter smacked his hand away. “You’re sorry? What the hell do you care, anyway? You left me here! You left! You fed me some line of bullshit about caring about the target on my back, and then you were gone! No one gives a shit about me until there’s a mess, and then suddenly everything is my fault! I can’t please anyone, and every time I try, I’m just one big f**king disappointment. Everyone is on me to pick a side. How the hell am I supposed to pick a side when everyone hates me? And the one person who didn’t hate me was just killed in front of me.”
Michael took a long breath. “I don’t want to kick you when you’re down, but you don’t exactly make it easy to trust you, Hunter.”
Great. Of course. His fault again. He looked out the window.
“Yesterday afternoon, you left suddenly, right?” said Michael. “With Kate, a stranger, someone you’ve been very secretive about.”
Hunter didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to listen to any of this, but the alternative was thinking about Kate’s body disappearing into the earth as if she’d never existed at all.
“And then,” Michael continued, “there’s a news report that Noah Dean disappeared and a pentagram is painted over his door. This happened while you were gone. Gabriel said you’d attacked the kid Friday, after telling us that you weren’t going to do anything. What were we supposed to think?”
Hunter couldn’t deny any of that—especially since he’d been in the mountains, wondering if the Merricks had something to do with Noah’s disappearance.
“You were still going to leave,” he said. “I heard your conversation with Gabriel, when you didn’t want me to know.”
Michael looked somewhat stunned. “My conversation with Gabriel?”
“The morning after the carnival. You were talking in the kitchen, and you specifically said, I don’t want him to hear us.”
Michael opened his mouth. Closed it.
“Save it,” said Hunter.
“No,” said Michael. “I just—Jesus, if you thought we were leaving, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because you didn’t want me to know!”
“Okay, first of all, we weren’t talking about you. We were talking about James.”
“You—what?”
“James. Hannah’s son. When I said I didn’t want ‘him’ to overhear us, I meant the five-year-old with ears like a tape recorder. If we were going to leave, I wanted Hannah to hear it from me, not a rumor from her kid.”
This had to be bullshit.
Right?
“Fine. If you didn’t care whether I knew you were leaving, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because that’s as far as the conversation went. The movies make it sound like it’s easy to pick up and change your identity, but it’s not—especially not for four people, two of whom are identical twins. They’re all underage, easily identifiable—hell, I’d probably get in a shit ton of trouble with the state if they knew I’d even considered it. But no, Hunter, our plan was not to pack up the house and leave you here, with no warning at all. Is that what you’ve thought? All this time?”
Hunter stared out the window at the trees whipping by, and felt about six years old. His eyes were raw and his throat swollen. “Yeah,” he finally said.
“God, you’re as bad as my brothers.”
It loosened something in Hunter’s chest, this revelation. He didn’t feel quite so alone. “You really weren’t going to leave?”
“No. We were going to do exactly what we discussed, together : let the Guide deal with the middle schoolers and wait to see if that would lead to more trouble.”
Hunter scowled. If he’d known that then, he probably wouldn’t have talked to Silver on the quad on Friday. He wouldn’t have attacked Noah Dean, and he and Kate wouldn’t have been on the run.
And she might still be alive.
Sacrifice.
“But now,” said Michael, “we’re hiding in a hotel.”
“Hiding?”
“Yeah. The Guide obviously went after that kid, and we didn’t know if we were next.”
Probably smart, considering that Silver did show up at the Merricks’ house. “You didn’t answer my calls,” said Hunter.
“We didn’t bring our phones because they’re easy to trace. We’ve got two prepaid ones right now.”
His voice was a bit hollow, and Hunter ran his finger along the edge of Kate’s phone in his pocket. He really wanted to turn it on and read through their texts, but if it was sending out a homing beacon to Silver’s phone or whatever, that was the last thing he could do.
“How did you know where I was?” he finally asked.
“Bill called Becca and told her what happened.”
“Bill.” Hunter snorted. “He wouldn’t even let me in his house. I didn’t know he cared.”
“He wouldn’t let you in his house? Jesus, that guy is an ass**le.”
“Tell me about it.”
Hunter almost laughed.
Then his world came crashing back down.
He folded his arms across his stomach, trying to hold in the pain.
“Hey,” said Michael.
Hunter glanced over.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” Michael said quietly. “But you’re not a disappointment.”
Hunter took a breath, and his voice broke. “I let her die.”
“Hunter, that guy was not messing around. She was dead before I even grabbed you.”
That didn’t make it better. Hunter choked on another breath.
“Did you know she was a Guide? All this time?”
Hunter nodded.
Michael didn’t say anything, but Hunter knew what it sounded like—that he would have turned on the Merricks.
“I didn’t rat you out—I thought you were leaving. I thought I’d have to fix everything by myself.”
“I let you into our home, Hunter. I said you could stay as long as you needed to.”
Hunter was having a hard time hanging on to his emotions, and despair poured out of his mouth with alarming force. “I know, okay? I know.” His voice almost broke again, but he saved it. “I’m sorry. I f**ked up everything. This is my fault. I’m sorry.”
Michael put a hand up. “Stop. I’m not—I don’t want to chastise you. I’m just saying you can trust me. Us. All of us. You always could.”
Hunter stared at him. He’d never trusted anyone, and his whole world had been turned upside down.
And now he probably didn’t have any options. “That was then,” he said. “What about now?”
Michael glanced over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Even now, kid. Even now.”
CHAPTER 32
Michael had a hotel room in a little Residence Inn by the airport. It was more of an apartment, with a kitchenette and two bedrooms. Hunter was ready for the younger Merricks to glare at him as he came through the door.
He wasn’t ready for his mother to be sitting at the table.
This was too much. He couldn’t take it.
He could have handled a fight. He could have handled planning. Details. Distraction.
Something about seeing his mother there just stole all the fight from him.
He was crying before he knew it. And when her slender arms came around him, he couldn’t fight her off. He just cried into her shoulder. He didn’t care that the Merricks could see him; he didn’t care that this was the same woman who’d watched his grandfather belt him across the face and throw him out of the house.
This was his mother.
And right now, he’d do anything for one minute of her comfort.
Especially since she was giving it.
She smelled like cotton and cloves and vanilla and home. He didn’t want to let her go.
But doing this forever wouldn’t solve anything.
When he finally raised his eyes from her shoulder, he was surprised to find that they were alone.
“They went to get some food,” she said softly. “They’ll be back in a bit.”
He went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. All of a sudden, the distance between them, packed with unspoken secrets and betrayals, felt like miles.
When he turned, she was sitting at the table.
He wanted to be sharp, like he’d been the last time she’d visited him. But now life had shifted, leaving him stronger, yes, but also more vulnerable.
“What are you doing here?” he said slowly.
“Michael called and said he’d found you.”
So that had been the phone call in the car. Not Hannah.
He leaned against the counter and studied the tiles under her feet. “Were you missing me?”