Page 30 of Hunter's Trial

Icould get used to this.

Doesn’t matter how many relationships I’ve been in, this part never gets old. The feeling when everything is fresh and new.

Historically, I then go and fuck everything up by being myself. Too flashy, or spending too much money. Living the life I did before meant that I attracted a certain type of woman that wasn’t exactly the best for me. I know that it will sound shitty that I am enjoying being in this modest little rental house. It’s the polar opposite of the life that I lived before. It’s what I needed and I didn’t even know it. I’m presently so far outside of my comfort zone that it’s surreal.

Kate is curled up against my chest, her hair still slightly damp as she traces nonsensical symbols into my bare skin. The scent of her shampoo and soaps are filling the space we occupy in a sweet way. We’ve been talking about nonsense for hours now.

Also something that I’ve never really done before.

There’s always been a good amount of uneven power dynamic between me and the relationships that I had before. Kate is the first woman to put me in my place and it's… refreshing.

It’s a whole new me.

I could stay like this for hours. Days. Forever.

The weight of that settles over me without the heft that it perhaps ought to have. Out of all of my previous relationships there was always a part of me that held something back. Something deep within me that just knew that they were going to leave. I knew that one way or another we were doomed to fail.

This… well, for as long as it lasts then I’m going to give it all I have.

It’s just so… easy.

Nothing in my life has ever been easy before.

Kate says something that I don’t catch and she playfully slaps my chest. I make a show of wincing like she’s actually managed to hurt me and flinch away from her with a laugh. Kate swings a leg over my hips until she sits on top of me. Her heat centers over me and I suddenly can’t remember what it was that we were just talking about. It no longer matters. My hands find the outside curve of her knees and slide up the silky smooth skin of her thighs. Rounding higher I’ve just around reached the ample curve of her ass when there’s a knock at the bedroom door.

Damn if I don’t jump like a teenager doing something he shouldn’t do.

Even Kate startles and looks at the door wide eyed. I slide her off me easily and slide in front of her on reflex to put myself between her and whatever else might be on the other side of that door. An internal door. As if that isn’t enough cause for concern.

“Y-yes?” Kate calls.

“Momma?” Her daughter’s small voice comes from the other side of the door. “Why is your door locked, momma?”

Kate’s shoulders slump. “She was asleep.” She mutters to me and then slides off the bed. She pads across the floor softly, the cheap carpet leaving footprints.

I shrug my shoulder hoping that she will realize it’s fine. “Should I…?” I gesture to the bathroom, asking if I should go and hide out while she handles her business there. To my surprise, she shakes her head no, that I should just stay where I am as she unlocks the door and answers it.

Her daughter is standing there with a large stuffed octopus in hand as she blinks up at her mother, her chin wobbling. It must have been a nightmare that woke her up.

“I had a bad dream.” she says softly.

Kate sinks to a knee and pulls her daughter into her chest and smooths her blonde wavy hair back into place. “A nightmare?”

Her daughter nods and wraps her arms tightly around Kate’s neck.

“Do you want to sleep in here with me?” Kate asks.

Her daughter nods again without saying anything out loud. Kate sweeps her up into her arms and carries her over to the bed where I’m sitting. It’s only then that she seems to realize that her mother wasn’t alone in her room.

The girl’s eyes widen in surprise and then almost instantly narrow in suspicion as she looks over Kate’s shoulder to see me better. I get it. The last man that she saw her mother with was likely her father. I know a thing or two about bad dads after all.

I always resented what my father turned me into, but I also craved his approval so desperately. I think, because I hated that I was destined to become a monster, I told myself that all that mattered was that I got the power and the wealth that came with it.

Privately, however, I think I always wanted the family that I never got. My mother was an addict. She tried her best, there’s certainly no denying that, but she was what she was.

My father was a monster. I later found out that he had been responsible for my mother’s death, making it look like an overdose, so that I would join him in the motherland. He was only a father in the biological sense of the word. More like a commander. A drill instructor. More times than I can say, I have thought about how I might have done things differently with a child of my own. Perhaps that’s the real reason that I married so many women – I was just trying over and over again to make it right. To find the right person.

Father said that the only thing that mattered was the Bratva. I could pick any woman in the world as my wife as long as she was of good breeding. Most of all, my father said that I had to find a woman who would do as she was told. That was what he valued most.

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