Chapter Nine
Hunter
“Drey!” Bill yelled.
Like Drey would be able to hear over the noise of the club. He—
Drey barged into the office. What the hell? Was he standing guard?
“Damn it, Hunter. I knew you needed a doctor.” He rushed to Bill’s desk. “I’m calling 9-1-1.”
“No,” I said. “Just…Can you take me to the ER? It’s only a few blocks.” I’d know, too. I’d been there a few times.
“Drey, go see if the ambulance is still here.”
Drey flew out of the room, leaving me with Bill and the heavy air in the small office. He ripped the first aid kit off the wall beside the door and yanked it open. “Okay, this is how it’s going to go.” He tossed the kit on the desk but held a pack of gauze in his hand. “You’re done here.”
“What?” I yelled.
“For a month.” He knelt beside me and pressed the gauze to my side, none too gentle, either. “You’ve got that long to get your shit together, Hunter. I mean it.”
“But you need me. You’re down a bouncer, and it’s Ted’s last week next weekend tending bar. I—”
“You are welcome back once I get a clear from a doctor for your stitches and documentation from a shrink confirming you’re seeing someone about this anger shit you got going on.”
“Therapy?” I shook my head, which made my eye throb. I almost opened my mouth to tell him that shrinks didn’t do shit for me, but then I’d be admitting to my past with therapy for my anger.
“Yes, therapy. Even a big ass like you needs to get his shit together. I want you back, man, in a big way. Like I said, you’re the best bouncer I’ve had, but I won’t run the risk with you as a loose cannon here.”
“Loose cannon? I’m not—”
“Maybe not yet, but you’re headed in that direction, Hunter. Some would argue you’re there, but I have tolerance to your way of handling things.” He let out a long breath. “I been there, kid. I—you have potential, Hunter. You’re a good kid, and I can’t let you go through what I went through because you didn’t have a leash on your rage.”
My heart slowed a few paces, and I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. His jaw twitched, and I knew he was grinding his molars. “What happened?” I asked.
“Nothing good. Trust me, man. Get this shit dealt with or you’ll lose eighteen to twenty like I did for taking a life you had no intention of taking.”
Holy shit. He’d killed someone? “Bill, when—”
Drey burst through the doorway followed by a medic. “Got one. I—” He looked at me, then Bill. “What happened?”
Bill stood, making room for the medic. “Nothing. Get this kid looked at.” He pointed at me then finally looked my direction.
That’s when I saw the truth of his words. He’d killed someone. Taken a life—like I had. And tonight, that monster had surfaced again. I’d wanted to end that asshole I’d been pounding.
I gulped through the nerves choking me, and it hit me in the windpipe like a steel knife: I was truly my father’s son. His psychotic DNA ran through my veins. There was no escaping it or the killer it’d turned me into.
* * *
Angelina
I held my hand up to Hunter’s door about to knock, but I stopped before my knuckles met the wood. Damn my insecurity. He’d told me twice he’d gotten held up at work and that was why he’d not been able to make our movie date last night. And then, today, he’d only texted me a few times, but no video chats at all.
Believe it or not, I was jonesing to see his face. I’d missed it—which was totally pathetic on my part. When had I become so dependent on him?
I shook off the negative thoughts starting to overwhelm my mind and knocked on the door as I adjusted the bottle of sparkling cider in my other hand. I was so curious to see what his place was like. His room. Heat rose to my cheeks. Me, in a guy’s room.I couldn’t believe it.
“Coming,” he said, and I stepped back, smoothing my hand down the front of my long-sleeved shirt. I tugged the arms down out of habit to confirm they covered my wrists. Damn scars.