And that’s how we left the courthouse. Hand in hand. Taking Hunter home.
31
Kane
Forty-five minutes later we were staring at each other inside my loft apartment. Hunter didn’t have anything to bring with him except a torn backpack full of clothes that were too small for his growing frame.
I knew that was the first thing we had to take care of. Well, that and then I needed to order some groceries. It wasn’t like I was stocked to take care of a kid. I had plenty of beer, but I was pretty sure I was supposed to have shit like juice and milk.
Hunter walked back and forth between the downstairs guestroom and the one that was at the top of the loft.
I didn’t push him toward one room. Neither did Julie. He was probably compiling his own reasons why each room should be his.
He inspected the closets, the bathroom space, and looked under the beds. We stood back while he investigated each one.
“Hey, bud. You don’t have to choose one right now. You can take some time and sleep in each one if you want,” I offered.
He ignored me and walked back and forth, running up the stairs, counting under his breath.
“I think he needs his own space,” Julie whispered. “He needs something that feels permanent even if he’s too young to be able to put that in words.”
“Makes sense,” I agreed.
Finally, he made an announcement. “I want the upstairs room.”
“It’s yours.” I found some sort of triumph in that. I had given this kid something. I didn’t know I was capable of giving anything, but the last few weeks had changed that.
Hunter had changed it. Julie had changed it. The bastard who only looked out for himself was suddenly looking out for other people.
The boy took the sack of ragged clothes, ran up the stairs, and started pulling open dresser drawers in one of the chests. Everything was stained or torn. It only took three drawers before the bag was empty. Julie was by my side.
I scratched the back of my head. “What do you say we do some shopping today before I head to practice?”
“Shopping?” Hunted looked more confused than I had ever seen him.
“Yeah. Thought we could fill up that empty closet and dresser with some more clothes. Stuff you can pick out yourself. What do you think?”
I turned when I heard the gasp from Julie.
Did she really think I would let the poor kid walk out of my house dressed like that? I didn’t care what he wore, but I could feel his unease coming off of him in waves. The poor thing was terrified of someone making fun of him or being judged. I’d be damned if I didn’t do anything and everything in my power to make sure that didn’t happen.
Ever again.
She sprang tears more often than a cloud in the middle of April, but fuck if she wasn’t the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my whole fucking life—even when tears flowed from her eyes, or hell maybe because of it. The wetness made her already brilliant eyes sparkle and shine like sapphires.
I wanted to drown in them.
And every single fucking time her bottom lip quivered, it took every damn thing inside of me not to lean forward and capture it between my teeth. I wanted to kiss away all of her pain and then I wanted to bind her to my bed and make her a
che in ways she’d never dreamed of before.
Fuck.
What was this chick doing to me?
32
Julie