His head snaps in my direction, and for the first time, I see pain in his dark eyes. Palpable pain that scares me. His chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, and I wonder if he’s going to have a panic attack.
I move from the chair I’d been sitting in, taking a place beside him.
“You can tell me, Hunter. You know my shame. What I’ve been through. Maybe it’s time you told me yours.”
He digs the palms of his hands into his eyes. “This is not how I’d wanted to start the day.”
“My guess is you hadn’t wanted to spend all night fighting ghosts either, but here you are.”
He slumps, as though he’s just given up on something. “You said I know your shame, but I don’t think you have anything to feel ashamed of.”
I snort with disdain. “Salem Street—”
He cuts me off mid-sentence. “Was never your doing.”
“If I can separate myself from Salem, then you can separate yourself from what you’ve become. Tell me your dark secrets. The damage they’re causing from being trapped inside you is worse than what happens once you set them free.”
“Fine, if you want to know, I’ll tell you. But understand that I don’t want your pity, and it changes nothing between us.”
“Understood.”
“I was born to a drug-addicted prostitute. I never knew my father, which isn’t surprising given her body count. She wasabusive, neglectful, and crazy, but I did have one bright thing in my childhood. My sister Gabby shielded me from the horrors of our reality. She fed me, changed me, groomed me. When my mother brought men home, she’d take me to a closet and tell me a story. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be alive. She was six years older than me, born when my mother had some semblance of a conscience. By the time I came around, that was gone.”
My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, because I have a feeling I know where this is going.
“Then, one night, my sister was pulled from the closet. I didn’t understand. She was around twelve, and I was six. My mother knew how to scare me into compliance, so I never left my cubby. Even when my sister screamed. I still hear those screams.”
Tears well in my eyes, but I listen, determined to be what Hunter needs, because he’s never once complained about the good he’s done for me.
“That was my normal, and still, throughout everything, my sister gave me a happy childhood, getting me on and off the bus and making sure I had a lunch packed. If things had remained that way, I wouldn’t be the monster I am today.”
He’s quiet for a long time, and I understand why. What he’s saying is heartbreaking to hear. To live through it is something else entirely.
“When I was ten, I came home from school, and my sister wasn’t there. I never saw her again. My mother said she ran away with some guy, and I believed her. It even made me hate my sister a little, because she never said goodbye. By that time, I could do a lot on my own. It was like my sister had been training me to be self sufficient this entire time. Like she knew…”
I place a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, and he covers it with his own. It’s the warmest exchange we’ve ever had, born out of tragedy.
“When I turned twelve, my mother had the idea that she could turn me out too. She brought me to a bad man named Twitch, but he said I was built for something different. So, I became an enforcer. I collected on debts, and when I couldn’t, I broke arms and legs. I never expected that when I turned sixteen, a person I was collecting from would say,“I know what happened to your sister. If you let me go, I’ll tell you.”I almost killed him on the spot. He said to give him forty-eight hours, and if he couldn’t get me proof of what had happened to her, I was free to collect. Something told me to trust the man, so I let him go, warning him that if he showed up empty-handed, I’d kill him. Sometimes, I wish he’d shown up empty-handed.”
“You don’t have to continue,” I say, more for me than him.
“A day later, he came back and handed me a DVD. It was a snuff video, and sure enough, I saw what they did to her. I saw everything. I told the man to tell me everyone who was involved. He was my little informant, feeding me information about the people in my circle, until finally, I decided it was time.”
I know the type of people he’s talking about, because I was at their mercy, and they were not very merciful. They were monsters. Demons fighting for my soul.
“For three long days, I rained vengeance on the people who hurt my sister, starting with my mother and ending with my boss. In all, there were seven people I blamed for her death, and each of them I tortured in the manner I’d seen done to her on the tape. If I’d thought that would bring me peace, I was wrong. Afterward, I couldn’t stop. The sex offender registry became my hit list, and for years, I tortured pedos and rapists without getting caught, because no one wanted to catch me. Until I targeted a politician’s son. I was caught and had almost no hope of seeing the light of day again. A couple years in, Saber found me, recruited me, and you know the rest.”
A million thoughts swirl through my mind as I think on everything he told me. How is it possible I ever saw this beautiful man as a monster?
“You’re probably wondering why I get horny when I torture people.”
“A little.”
“As I was working on one of my victims, he confessed to there being a woman in his basement. I brought him down and allowed her to watch my good work. She was deeply appreciative, and she wanted me. I guess because I was her savior. I fucked her. It was my first time, and I guess that’s where I developed my odd taste. After that, I took special care when looking for predators and found that there were a lot of fuckers like that on the dark web. I was smart enough to find them. Sometimes, they had kids, and I made sure they were found. Never touched them because I’m not that kind of monster. The women, though…well, they were so relieved, they’d do just about anything the thank me. So I took them as we watched my victims suffer.”
Now I understand everything. Why he is the way he is.
What we have is special. Something you don’t often find after a lifetime of looking.
