Page 67 of Hunter

I watch her walk away, feeling like the ground is falling out beneath me. My heart shatters with every step she takes, and the emptiness of the car amplifies the crushing weight in my chest.

Did I just make the biggest mistake of my fucking life?

Yes, you did, you fucking imbecile.

I squeeze the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, the anger, guilt, and pain rising in me like a tidal wave. I scream, the sound guttural and raw, echoing in the empty night. I scream because I don’t know what else to do. I scream because I’ve just destroyed the one thing that mattered to me.

I stare at the door of her house, hoping it will open, praying she’ll come back and tell me I’m wrong, that I didn’t ruin everything. But it stays closed, and I’m left alone with the wreckage I’ve created.

I can’t live without her. She’s the reason I wake up every day, the reason this world doesn’t feel so dark, the reason I keep breathing. Without her, I’d rather be six feet under, because this world doesn’t exist without her by my side. I should’ve been honest with her and given her the chance to make her own decisions instead of taking that choice away from her. I’ve dug my own grave, and now I have to lie in it.

My heart pounds in my chest as I step out of the car and make my way to her house. Am I really going to involve her in this? She could get hurt. That part of me—the part that wants to keep her far away from all this darkness—questions my every move. For a brief moment, I hesitate, second-guessing myself. But it doesn’t take long to answer that part of me. She deserves to know the truth. She has the right to decide if she wants to be involved in this nightmare that’s coming.

“What the fuck?” The words barely leave my mouth before I lose my balance and end up crashing into the hood of my car. The back of my head slams into the metal, and I feel the emblem of my car dig into my lower back, the pain exploding in my skull.

I stay in that position for a moment, dazed, trying to regain my composure. What the hell just happened?

“Oh no, Maxim. Are you alright?”

Sophia’s voice—louder and more sarcastic than usual—cuts through the sharp pain in my head, intensifying the ache. I tilt my head back, eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to stop the dizziness.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be out of the car. I didn’t mean to hit you with the suitcase.” Her voice carries a mix of amusement and just the faintest hint of concern. Wait a minute…she threw her suitcase at me?

“In my defense,” she continues, the amusement clear in her tone, “it was meant to hit your car. You were just a bonus.”

The absurdity of the situation hits me, and despite the pain, despite the blood in my mouth, the dizziness threatening to knock me out, a laugh escapes. The laughter bursts from me uncontrollably, mingling with the sharp throb in my head. I laugh harder than I should, shaking from the pressure in my skull, but I can’t stop.

When I finally manage to regain control, the laughter dies in my throat, but my smile falters as I look up at her.

Sophia stands in front of me, arms crossed, one foot tapping impatiently on the ground. Her face is flushed red, her nostrils flaring, her eyes wide with an intensity I’ve never seen before. And it’s not just anger; it’s a murderous fury that makes my chest tighten.

You fucked up, Maxim.

The realization sinks in deep. I’ve pushed her too far. I’ve hurt her in ways I can’t even begin to fix.

TWENTY-SEVEN

SOPHIA

With the adrenaline surging through my veins, I shove Maxim so hard, he stumbles back, crashing into the hood of his car. “What the fuck is so funny?” I growl, my voice sharp, cutting through the tension. He tries to stand up straight, but I shove him again. This time, he doesn’t falter. He stands his ground.

Anger—rage, pure and consuming—pulses through me. I want to tear him apart for the shit he’s trying to pull. Does he seriously think I’m that stupid?

“Please, Sophia. Let me explain.” His hands are outstretched, surrendering to me, but I’m not listening.

I throw my arms wide in a sweeping gesture, my words laced with bitter sarcasm. “Explain yourself?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You’re not seriously asking to explain yourself right now? You had the chance to tell me everything just twenty seconds ago, and you didn’t. I told you—if I got out of that car, we were done.” Tears—bitter, burning tears—spring to my eyes. “You’re too late. All I want from you now is to leave.”

He closes the distance between us in one long stride. I try to pull away, but before I can move, he grabs my hair, his fist tightening around the strands, pulling me closer untilour foreheads touch. His eyes—desperate, pleading—hold mine. “Sophia, please.”

I close my eyes, feeling the sting of a tear as it falls down my cheek. My defenses start to rise, but his touch makes them tremble. “You don’t get to stand here,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “You don’t get to look at me with those puppy dog eyes and expect anything from me.”

“Look at me, Sophia. Please. Let me explain.”

“No.” I shake my head, refusing to meet his gaze. “I will not look at you.” The words feel heavy in my chest, suffocating. “I refuse to look into the eyes of the person who lied to me, who broke my heart, who has no trust in me—or in us—after everything we’ve been through. I don’t want to look at the person who refuses to believe we can face whatever comes our way together.”

His body tightens, but I don’t care. “I gave you the chance to explain earlier,” I continue, my words sharp like knives. “Instead of opening up to me, you made up some ridiculous excuse about leaving the country. Are you really that dense, Maxim? Do you honestly think you’d protect me by ending things?”

I slam my palms against his chest, pushing with everything I have. “The invisible target you think I have on my back won’t just vanish because you think you’re leaving. Everyone knows I’m your weakness. You’ve never been subtle about how much you love me. The people you’re trying to protect me from—they’re still going to use me to get to you, even if they think you left for Russia or ended our relationship. They know you’ll come for me. They know you can’t stay away.”

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