Page 124 of The Hunt

“I hate seeing you like this. Fuckinghateit,” I muttered as I pressed a bandage to a deeper scratch on her knee. “I’d honestly bleed out every last drop from my body if it meant no one could ever hurt you again.”

Everly’s breath hitched. “I know,” she said, voice barely above a murmur. “But I’ll be okay. They’re just cuts and bruises.”

I grabbed another bandage and pressed it over a scratch below her knee. “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met, you know that?” I said, looking up at her. “Bravest girl I’ve ever met too.”

Her eyes softened in a way that unraveled me completely. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“I don’t know,” she said reluctantly. “Remember the night we met in the tunnel? You said I was just a scared little girl with a Taser. And I think you were right. Iamscared. All the time.”

I smiled thinly. “In case you haven’t figured this out yet, I can be a real asshole sometimes. And I was definitely a raging asshole to you that night,” I said. “But listen… part of being strong and brave means feeling fear. There’s no way around that. It’s what you dowith the fear that counts.”

Her breath hitched again, her eyes searching my face. “Doyouever feel scared, Rhett?” she finally asked.

“Yeah. I’m scared of losing you,” I admitted, voice going husky. “The thought of it keeps me up all night, every night.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I rose to my feet, holding out one hand. “You don’t have to be sorry for that,” I said. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything.”

She accepted my hand and stood, her pretty eyes flickering past me to the doorway. “Should we go to bed?”

I lifted a brow. “To sleep, or…”

“You’re seriously ready to go again?” she asked, eyes widening. “Now?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “I’d love to fuck you again, and I definitely could. But I was just kidding. I think you need some rest.”

She nodded. “A full eight hours of sleep sounds like heaven right about now,” she said, stepping over to the bed.

Guilt gnawed at my insides all over again as I watched her settle beneath the blankets. I was such an asshole for how I’d treated her in the past. All I ever had to do was listen to her, but I didn’t. I was arrogant, presumptuous, and careless, and as a result, she’d ended up on this fucking island with her life at stake.

I knew I wasn’t the one who actually brought her here—that was JJ and his father—but still, I could’ve done something to stop it if I’d known the truth about the situation sooner. And the only reason I didn’t know the truth sooner was because…yup.I was a fucking asshole who refused to listen.

I settled into bed next to Ev, one arm sliding under her to pull her closer. She let out a contented sigh and stretched her legs out next to me. “I never thought a plain old bed could feel like heaven to me, but it totally does,” she murmured. “It sure beats a cabin floor. Or the ground.”

“Enjoy it,” I said, stroking her hair. “We can worry about everything else tomorrow. For now… just rest.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’m so exhausted I could probably fall asleep even if I was standing up right now,” she said, smothering a yawn. “I definitely won’t need your little sleep trick tonight.”

I smiled faintly at the memory of our first night in bed together. Before I could respond, Ev spoke up again. “I don’t think you ever answered my question that night,” she murmured.

“Which question?”

“I asked you why you had nightmares as a kid,” she said. She sounded slightly more awake now, and her eyes were flickering with interest. “I don’t think you told me. Or maybe you did, and I missed it because I fell asleep.”

Shit.

I knew this issue would come up again sooner or later. I had to tell her, too. I couldn’t spend my life with her—which I fully intended to do—while hiding such a massive piece of myself.

“I had nightmares because of something that was going on in my life when I was a kid,” I said. “But it’s over now.”

Ev’s eyes flicked to one of the tattoos on my chest—a skull overlaid with crossed blades, the dark ink barely concealing a scar beneath.

“Was it something to do with this?” she asked, gently tracing a finger over the scar. “Or any of the others?”

“Yes.”

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