Page 104 of Hunted: Season Two

Doesn’t make sense to me because their parents seem happy.

They’ve always seemed happy.

Even when they were fighting, there was always a “love you just don’t like you right now” sense in the air.

Me, Kid, and Rabbit are happy like that.

Little fucked up most of the time but happy together.

How do we teach the little one she’s baking not tofearfalling in love?

How do we teach it to have a healthy relationship someday when we’re still figuring that shit out ourselves?

Fuckme,how is it every day I wake up with a fresh from hell worry regarding messing this child up?!

I need a drink.

Is it too early?

Collecting my purchases doesn’t take long, and thankfully, neither does the two of them exchanging numbers. Our stroll back to the lot where I had no choice but to park – my tow truck isn’t exactly the clientele this high-end strip center wants around unless it’s to take away someone who has broken their beloved aristohat rules – is mainly filled with Christmas dinner questions I know he’s been ordered to retrieve and laughter regarding what to expect on the big night.

“Okay, so, Woodslikescake, but not birthday cake?” Garcia investigates upon our arrival. “Or not birthday cakeflavor?”

“That one.”

“How does he feel aboutDulce de Leche?”

I pause with my empty hand wrapped around the handle. “Don’t know if he’s ever had it.”

“Qué???” He croaks in Spanish, a rarity for him. “You don’t knoweverythingabout the man you’re trying to give your last name to?”

“Fuck you,” is impishly grunted. “I knowenough.”

“And by enough, you mean how well your dick fits in his ass?”

“Exactly.” We share another round of chuckles that’s followed by me getting into my vehicle. Once I’m settled, I shift the bag from my grip to his. “Hide that shit well. The last thing I need is one of your holiday fuck arounds finding it and thinking it’s for them.”

He lets the corner of his lips kick upward. “It’s going in my safe.”

“Personal or office?”

“Personal.”

That one’s more secure.

Before another juvenile comment can make it past my lips, he shoots me a sincere smile. “I’m proud of you, Ace.” His fingers adjust their hold on the bag. “For settling down. Having a family. Getting married-”

“If they say yes.”

“They will.” The grin widens. “We both know they will.”

An unexpected heat flushes my cheeks. “Fuck, I hope so.”

“I’m proud of you for finally getting your shit together and movingforwardrather than just staying stagnant.”

It’s impossible not to jab back as I shove the key in the ignition. “Keep smiling, fucker.You’re. Next.”

“Can’t hear you,” he loudly proclaims on a slamming of my door shut. “Too busy making millions and sleeping with supermodels.”

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