Page 63 of Hunter

“I don’t understand,” I reply with a frown, “Javier rarely gets things wrong, especially not that wrong.”

“I know,” he huffs, “so, I call Javier and give him hell for it, right outside of the bar where I’ve been drinking with ‘Stanley’.” He laughs over the guy’s name and how he was meant to be some shifty gang member, capable of murder and torture. “Anyway, just as I’m yelling at him, the barman comes outside to chat with me. Chat being code for calling his buddies and beating the living shit out of me. I was dragged back inside for their form of an interrogation.”

“What?!” This is so bizarre; I begin to wonder if Phoenix imagined all of this while in some sort of morphine-induced state.

“Yeah, turns out they’re a rival gang of Javier’s and didn’t like me being down in their territory, especially when they found out who I was. But,” he begins as he leans in closer so he can lower his voice, “the head honcho comes to visit me privately, personally, telling me he knows who the person is that I’m looking for. Says he knows exactly who killed the Ortegas, but that the person who had killed Mom was someone else entirely.”

“Holy shit!” We always assumed it was the same person or people, so this is shocking information for both of us. “Did he tell you who it was?”

He shakes his head, and I feel the disappointment already spreading through my body.

“Says his brother can tell me, but that I’ll have to earn that information; tit for tat, if you know what I mean.”

I roll my eyes, thinking, ‘Here we go again’. It’s neverending and always involves my brother risking his life. He takes hold of my hand as if reading my mind.

“Apparently, he’ll contact me when he’s good and ready. Anyway, the head honcho knocks me out with a clean shot to the head, and then I’m here!”

“Jeez, Phoenix, this is getting more and more complicated!” I slump back against the chair and sigh long and noisily. “I bet Mom wouldn’t have wanted you risking your life for all this. I know Dad wouldn’t have!”

“Well, who’s to say I would have been a good son? If she were still alive, I bet I’d have been keeping her up at night on a regular basis. Anyway, how’s domestic bliss? Engaged yet?”

“Huh, as if!” I scoff, already feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes.

“Why? What the hell did he do? Do I have to go and break some legs, Lou, because I’ll do it right now if the motherfucker hurt you!”

“Calm down,” I sigh as I begin to let the tears fall over my cheeks, “I hurt him, so please don’t go making threats that are only going to make me feel worse. He caught me kissing Tony.” I admit, feeling deeply ashamed under his hard-set frown.

“Dafuq?!” he says with true Phoenix sensitivity.

“Yesterday, just before I found out about you, Tony turned up at work. I thought he might have had some news on you, but all he wanted to do was make me take him back. He said things, things that reminded me of when he was a sweet boy, and we were just falling in love and being carefree, you know? So, we kissed; a sweet, goodbye-to-childhood, goodbye-to-our-relationship kiss, and then I pushed him away.”

“And Suit saw the tail end, but missed the push, yeah?” He almost laughs but holds back when he sees how heartbroken I am. I simply nod and brush my face to rid myself of my stupid tears.

“He’s got this weird idea that I want someone like you, like Tony, because that’s who I grew up with,” I try to explain, badly probably. “But the Tony I fell for was sweet and kind…innocent. No offence, Phoenix, but I don’t want to date my brother.”

“No offence taken, you’re my sister, that would be weird and gross,” he says matter of factly. “But I guess I can see Suit’s point of view. You two are from two different worlds.”

“So?!” I bite back a little too harshly. “I don’t have a problem with it, why should he?”

“I don’t know,” he rushes out, looking at me like he did when I told him I had my period and asked him what I was supposed to do about it. “Hey, I deal with shifty fuckers and hairy dudes that drink too much. I just said I could sort of see it from his point of view, doesn’t make Dear Diedre or anything!”

“Well, anyway, I think that’s it for us,” I sigh sadly. I don’t even feel the fresh bout of tears slipping over my cheeks until Phoenix gestures for me to go and lie with him, which I do straight away. “I miss him, Phoenix,” I sniff, “he was the kind of man I could have been with forever; you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs and kisses the top of my head.

_____

Daniel

It’s Friday, thank God, because working with no partner and no PA has been exhausting. I more than know I’ve been a punchy bastard to everyone, even Mary who reminds me of my grandmother. At this rate, Theo’s going to get back from his honeymoon to an office with no staff and one miserable partner who can barely function. All because he trusted his heart to someone who already gave theirs away years ago.

I had Lou’s stuff packed up and asked Charlotte to drive it over to the hospital earlier today before leaving to work at home. I’m just waiting for her to get back now, though, I’m also kind of dreading what she’s going to tell me about Lou. Part of me feels like telling her not to say anything, to keep it all to herself. This doesn’t bode well for our working relationship, but maybe this is the perfect excuse to get a new PA. Lou can work for Theo; everyone’s happy.

“You-hoo! Jerkface?”

Charlotte marches in through the front door and I close my eyes, bracing myself for her usual positive spin on everything. Right now, I want to wallow in my own self-pity and cement the fact that I’m destined to be alone. I hear the tip-tapping of her heels across my marble flooring, the sound echoing around the high ceilings and minimalist décor. I even started to imagine Lou moving in with me, making the place her own, as well as making it homier, like her little living room at the bar. Fat chance of that happening now.

“Char,” I mutter before swigging back something brown and bitter. Could be beer, could be liquor, could be stale old tea for all I know, or care, for that matter. Everything tastes bland and cold.

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