Razor Sharp | ✓

Twenty-One

♡♡♡

The next morning, just as I'm waking up, Marcos opens my door much to my surprise. At first, my heart stops. Is he hear to tell me bad news?

"Hunter's awake," he beams, getting straight to the point. "He's asking for you. He's worried."

"Worried? About me?"

Marcos smiles sadly. "The first thing he said when he woke up was whether or not you were hurt. He wants to thank you for saving him."

"I didn't—"

"Yes," he interrupts. "Yes, you did. If you hadn't brought him home so fast, he would have died."

"I'm not a hero, Marcos. I'm far from it."

"Don't sell yourself short, kid. You've been through a lot lately and I think that you're very brave for that."

A warm feeling spreads through me at his kindness, but it also confuses the hell out of me. Why is he being so nice?

I close my eyes, following Marcos out of the room.

"I'll wait for you out here," he says, breaking my trance. "Don't be too long though, alright? Andy's out on business, but he won't be gone for long. If you aren't out in twenty minutes, I'll come in to get you."

I shut the door quietly behind me. It shuts with a click and Hunter instantly looks up from his phone, meeting my gaze. He's lying under a few blankets, his chest bare, except for a bandage around his stomach that looks freshly applied. He's sitting up, and my heart skips noting that he's improving so well.

His blonde hair is dishevelled from sleep and his blue eyes just blink at me, staring. A small smile grows on his lips and it takes everything in me not to return it with my own.

"You're safe," he whispers.

I nod, stepping further into the room and falling into the armchair next to his bed.

The irony isn't lost on me, though. I'm not safe. Maybe I never will be again.

He reaches out to grab my hand and I don't stop him. Although, it does surprise me when he does. Hunter always surprises me, though.

"I was worried something might have happened to you. I can't...I don't remember much of anything that happened before I got...shot."

I can't meet his eyes. "What can you remember up to?"

If he couldn't remember Thomas, then I'm not going to remind him about that. He needs to recover and I don't want him to worry too much about how I am.

"I remember—I remember giving Bruce the drugs and then...he gave me seven grand instead of ten. I asked him why and then...I can't...I'm not sure, but I remember..." he frowns, wracking his free hand over his face.

"You remember what?" I prompt.

"You were hurting," he barely whispers. "You were hurting but I can't remember why. Are you alright? Something happened I—"

"I'm fine, Hunter. It doesn't matter right now."

"I always worry about you," he mutters, closing his eyes briefly as he adjusts his position. He clenches his teeth, obviously in pain.

"Don't," I snap. "I can look after myself."

"God, I know you can, El," he smiles. "You saved my god damned life. Why?"

I look at him, puzzled. "Why what?"

"Why would you save my life when you could have left me and got the hell out of there? You could have gone home."

That's a good question. One that I've thought about a lot. Why hadn't I just left him there?

"I didn't leave you because I'm not heartless. That's why," I huff, picking at my nails like his question doesn't make me nervous.

"I'm sorry that I brought you along with me," he continues.

"I'm not," I blurt.

"What?" he asks, frowning. I look away from him, fighting the urge to brush away the crease between his eyebrows.

"I said I'm not sorry that you brought me with you. Not only did you not have a choice, but if you went on your own...you would've...well you know what would have happened."

"Does it actually upset you that much to think about me dying?" he whispers softly, leaning back against his pillow.

"What kind of question is that?" I ask, suddenly angry. I stand up from the chair, walking over to the window. "Of course it upsets me! You think I enjoyed watching you almost—" I choke on my words, wrapping my arms around myself.

I can feel the tears prick at the corners of my eyes but I'm not going to let them fall. Not around Hunter. "I genuinely thought you'd be happy."

"Don't be stupid, Hunter," I say, turning to face him even though the tears still haven't left my eyes. "I don't want to..."

Lose you.

"See you die," I finish, looking away from him again.

"Well that's good," he says. "I wouldn't want to see you die either."

"You don't seem to care when Andy beats me," I retort.

"Don't say that shit," he snaps, sitting up abruptly and wincing in pain. He grabs his stomach, cringing. "Of course I care."

"You think I like standing by him? Do you think it's fun for me watching you get hurt and seeing new bruises on your face all the time? I hate it."

"I don't want to fight," I whisper. "You're still recovering, after all."

He reaches out and grabs one of my hands. He rubs my knuckles before bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it softly. I shiver at his touch, pulling away.

I look back out the window, gulping. I need to stop this.

"I'm going home soon," I say. "My father gave Andy the money."

I look back at Hunter to see that he's looking anywhere but at me. I can see it in his eyes that he understands what I'm doing. I've got to let whatever the hell is going on between us go. Nothing good will come out of this.

"Right," he says monotone. "That's great."

A silence falls between us. I know then that it's my queue to leave.

I get up from the chair and walk towards the door. Before I can open it, Hunter stop me by calling my name.

"What, Hunter?"

"I remember what Thomas did to you. God, El, I wish I—"

"Stop," I whisper, turning to face him briefly before turning back to the door. "It's over now, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm moving on," I say, talking about more than one thing.

I don't look back at Hunter but he stays silent. I think he gets my message.

I leave the room before anything else can be said, wishing that I could change how much Hunter is starting to mean to me.