Page 14 of Hunted, Season Three

She’s having a boy.

Finally able to move, I scurry the short distance over to my boyfriend, rip off the tape covering his mouth, and quietly inquire, “Can you hear me, Kid?”

His lack of response is only less terrifying thanks to the shallow breathing I can feel on the hand that’s lingering near his lips.

“Come on, Kid…” a gentle stroke to his cheek is delivered.“Open your beautiful blue eyes for me.” Another loving caress precedes me choking out the command again.“Open those big blues for, Sir.”

This time there’s weak fluttering of his lashes.

“Come on,” I encourage while lowering both of my hands to work on removing the tape from his wrists.“Be my favorite, little, obedient fuck and open those eyes.”

More movement.

A single lift.

“You can do this, Kid.” Ripping at the object grows in forcefulness.“You have to do this…” Rage fuels my actions and strengthens my tone.“You have to wake up.” Light sounds of the material successfully tearing revs the engine of hope all over again.“We have to save Rabbit.” The instant his hands are free, I let one of mine cup his scruff covered face.“I need you.” One light stroke doesn’t take long to become two.“I can’t live without you.”

Unlike in all of the stupid chick flicks we’ve seen over the years, his eyes don’t magically open.

Life isn’t instantly restored.

Instead, the howling wind screeches at a new octave as iflaughingat me.

Mocking me.

My desperation.

Tears hastily rush to the brims of my lids and along the back of my throat causing my jaw to tremble in refusal to let them fall.Between the weight of disappointment and despondency, my head drops forward, unable to stay upright, unable to bear another ounce of dejection.

Air abandoning my lungs, grants permission for the tears in my eyes to begin their descent; however, mere seconds after they hit The Kid’s chest, the lightest tap to my arm is felt.“You don’t have to, Sir.”

Chapter 3

Kipp

“You’re not allowed to die before me,” grunts my boyfriend, relief and worry simultaneously burning rubber in his expression.“Understood?”

I try to smile, but it hurts.

Fuckme,everything hurts.

My head.

Jaw.

Neck.

An attempt to lift myself up unleashes new waves of pain in my upper chest.

Side.

Hip.

What the fuck did he do to me?

Thump me like he was checking his goddamn tires?

Becoming overwhelmed by the increasing aches leads to me closing my eyes once more, yet the slight sting of Nolan’s cold palm slapping my cheek convinces them to stay open.

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