Page 40 of Between Hate and Desire

I hear the rush of air she sucks in before she responds. “Hunter, please tell me my son is okay.” Her shaky voice rattles through me, and I hear the fear in her tone. “Please, Hunter,” she pleads, begging to hear positive news that I can’t deliver.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Locke. I wish I could.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I force back my tears. I’m trying to be strong for his mother right now, but I can’t handle hearing her heart-wrenching sobs.

I stay silent for a few minutes and listen to her wake her husband. She cries that her only son is gone. This moment between them is gut-wrenching as I hear Mr. Locke choke up. I can’t find the strength to end the call, not wanting to leave them in this state.

Once she returns to the phone, I tell her that the examiner’s office will be contacting them to discuss the details.

“How’s Lennon doing?” she asks shortly after, and I can tell she’s trying to compose herself.

“I’m not sure. We found out less than an hour ago. I’ll take care of her, so please don’t worry.” Even if Lennon doesn’t want me around, I won’t let her push me away when I know she’ll need me just as much as I’ll need her. We won’t be able to get through this alone or by arguing with each other.

“I appreciate you telling me as soon as possible, Hunter,” she says between sniffling. “Once I hear from them, I’ll let you know what we find out.”

I can’t even fathom having to watch my best friend’s parents bury their child. This can’t be real.

“I’d appreciate that. I’m here to do whatever you guys need, okay? Don’t hesitate,” I tell her, meaning every word. It won’t be easy for any of us, but we need to stick together during this time.

Once the call ends, I head back to the living room and find Lennon curled up in a ball on the couch. She’s crying into a pillow. No words I can offer will make her feel better, so instead, I grab a blanket and cover her. Even though I should make some phone calls, I don’t. Instead, I get another pillow and blanket and lie on the floor next to the couch so I can be close to Lennon. Her cries are the only sound in the room, and I know tonight will be a sleepless night.

It’s after two in the morning when Lennon stops trembling and her sobs quiet. I reach up for her hand and rub my thumb over her knuckles. The fact she doesn’t pull away or punch me in the face tells me she’s finally fallen asleep.

I’ve lain here for the past four hours with my mind in overdrive as I think back to when I first met Brandon, and I’m slapped with the reality of never seeing him again. Mason, Liam, Brandon, and I have been a foursome of friends since our freshman year of college, though I’ve known Brandon since high school. Mason and Liam are from SoCal, but Brandon and I are both Sacramento born and raised. His parents became my family and always welcomed me with open arms. I didn’t just lose my best friend—I lost a brother.

At sunrise, I decide to get up and make a pot of coffee. Lord knows I’m gonna need it today. Hell, I should add a bottle of vodka to it too.

Unsure of where to start or what to do, I decide to text Hayden to see if he’s awake. Since he’s on the East Coast, he’s three hours ahead of me and should be available. I need to get with Mason and Liam too. More calls I don’t know how the hell to make.

“Hey, what’s up, bro?” Hayden answers with a smile in his voice after telling me he was free to chat. “You’re up early. Or did a girl keep you up all night?” He chuckles at his own joke, and I wish I could laugh with him.

“It’s Brandon,” I respond, but it comes out rougher than I intended. “He died in a motorcycle accident last night.”

Just saying the words aloud has my heart pounding harder, almost as if it’ll beat right out of my chest. My breathing quickens as the anxiety of what this means and how my life will forever be changed hits me.

“Oh, Hunter. God. I’m so sorry,” Hayden softly replies. “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say. I can fly in this weekend if you need me to.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not even sure when the funeral is or any of the details yet. I had to tell his mom over the phone and hearing her break down nearly had me in tears,” I tell him, my voice cracking. I try to keep it together for Lennon’s sake because I know she’s going to need it, but I know I can talk to my brother about anything without judgment. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Hayden stays on the phone with me for over thirty minutes, listening to me ramble and getting my juggled thoughts out of my head. He reminds me that he’s here for me, and if I need him close, he’ll fly home anytime. I appreciate him so much. Once again, he’s proven to be the only true relationship I have within our family.

After hanging up, I pour a cup of coffee and sit at the kitchen table. My mind’s too cluttered to think about how I’m going to handle all this. We’d been so close, hung out all the time, especially on the weekends, but then things noticeably changed when Lennon moved in. His happiness was all I cared about, so I understood when he ditched our guy nights for date nights. It wasn’t as though I didn’t find other company to keep me occupied.

I’m lost in my thoughts until I hear Lennon rustling in the living room. I walk over and see her dragging her feet down the hallway, then enter the bathroom. She slams the door shut with unnecessary force, and I head into the living room and see her phone’s still on the coffee table.

Remembering I need to get Brandon’s work number and assuming her sisters need to know too so they can be here for her, I grab her phone and walk to the bathroom.

“Lennon,” I call, tapping my knuckles on the door. “What’s the code to your phone?”

She doesn’t answer, but a second later, she whips it open and stares at me with an unreadable expression. “For what?”

“I need Brandon’s boss’s number. You should call Maddie and Sophie too, but I can do that for you if you want,” I tell her.

Lennon narrows her eyes, her hair a wild mess. Her skin is blotchy, and her eyes are red from crying. I feel a strong desire to pull her close and hug her, let her know it’s all going to be okay, but I don’t.

“It’s your number,” she murmurs, walking past me and down the hallway again.

“Huh?” I ask, thoroughly confused. She heads to the kitchen and pours coffee into a mug.

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