The Bad Boy Is A Virgin

Chapter 53: It Still Hurt

I sat in my sister's room staring outside the window for what felt like days.

It was days.

I hadn't left my chair, except to go to the bathroom, for days.

I was frozen in shock at how quickly life had turned upside down for me. From the moment the death of my alleged sister was announced on national television, everything had gone downhill.

I blocked out whoever tried to come into the room. My mother tried speaking to me a couple of times when she brought me food but when she realized I needed time and wouldn't budge, she always just came to leave a tray of food for me on the time behind me.

There was a gentle tap on the door despite it being open, "Sweetheart - I mean. I... Sorry, Em...?"

That one word made me stare in the face of my sister's killer and immediately transported me back to the day I woke up at the hospital.

-

The low hum of whispering voices and a deep beep echoed in my blank mind. As the low hum slowly formed words that I could hear but not understand, my eyes started opening as well. My vision wasn't blurry, it was just slightly sore to open my eyes completely. However, I forced them to open to see a pristine white room which made me flinch.

The words were also making more sense but the only thing I was now focused on was how dry my throat was.

"Wa - water... please." I croaked out to whoever was in the room.

"Sweetheart?" The voice was significantly different but that name...

The name brought memories flood through my mind and I flinched. My sister's dead body. My kidnapping. My sister being alive. Hunter. Hunter's dad. A knife. A gun. And blood. So much blood...

"Please." I managed to whisper again before the people around me jumped into action.

A straw was brought to my lips and I drank the water as if I hadn't drank anything in years.

The glass was taken away too soon, "We can't give you too much or you'll get sick, sweetheart."

I reeled back at the name, "Don't call me that."

"Wha - ?"

"Were they able to save her?" I felt panic rush through me and a loud beep filled the room, "Is Jams fine?"

The beep increased with the speed of my heart.

"Sweetheart, calm - "

"Don't call me that!" My scream was louder than any other noise in the room, "Don't call me that." I said slowly again in a whisper, "He called me that."

"Sir, we're going to need you to leave." A stern voice spoke over the beep.

"I'm not leaving my girl-"

"Hunter, I'll call you when she's better. Just go get some rest, son."

I shot up at the name, ignoring the pain that followed the quick movement.

"Hunter?" Our eyes met in an instant and I found myself staring at a man who looked a lot like like Hunter but so much more disheveled.

Dark circles under his eyes and a dark stubble covered his strong jaw. His hair was too long hair stood up on all ends as of the only thing he had done to it the last few days was pull at it. And of course the yellow-green bruised that decorated his cheek. But the worst were his eyes. The Hunter I knew always had eyes that looked so strong and happy but now they showed a broken man.