Page 12 of Hunted
“There was a time when you’d runtome when you were upset, not away from me,” he says with a pained look in his eyes.
“You’ve never yelled at me before, not like that.” My fingers fidget with my sheath at my side out of habit.
“I know, fuck, Darla…I know,” he says, pushing his hair back from his face and letting out an exhale of frustration. “This whole thing is just… I’m trying to wrap my head around it, alright? I thought you were dead, but you’ve been here this whole time!” He throws up his hands in frustration, turning in a slow circle as if trying to pull himself back under control.
Weston rubs his large palm around my lower back, where my skin is exposed, warming me and reminding me he’s still here.
“You’re… mad at me for being stuck here?” I ask in confusion.
He turns quickly back to face me, a look of fear on his face. “Fuck, no. I’m mad I didn’t know, I’m mad I wasn’t looking for you! I could have brought you home years ago.”
“Reece… you were only thirteen.”
“So were you,” he says softly, stepping up to me, his hands lightly gripping me by my arms. “So were you, and you had no one. I should have been here for you. It was my job to take care of you, and I failed.”
His grip tightens on my arms, and when I realize his anger is aimed at himself, not me, it softens something inside me. The frustration I’ve been clinging to since he first yelled at me in the hut begins to slip away.
Wanting to bridge that gap between us, I reach up and run my hand over his cheek and his clean-shaven jaw. His face is so familiar, and yet… different. The soft lines have hardened, his eyes hold so much more knowledge and pain, and his mouth… it’s more mesmerizing than I remember. Maurice Benson has grown up well.
His hand covers mine, holding it against his cheek as he leans into my touch.
“Reece, you can’t blame yourself. You’re here now and all we can do is move on.”
“You’ll give me another chance?” he asks eagerly.
A smile covers my mouth as I look up at him. “What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t?”
“Best friend, huh?” he asks, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, reminding me of the boy I knew so well. I shrug, unsure what to say. We had been so much more to each other once, but nowwe are strangers to the people we have become. I’m scared that when he sees everything I have buried, all the darkness I carry, he won’t want me anymore.
“Can this best friend get a hug? Or is that—” I cut him off by stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing myself tightly against him. I turn my head to the side and close my eyes.
It doesn’t take him long to hug me back, one hand holding me against his chest as his lips graze my forehead in a tender kiss.
We’re both silent as we finally embrace one another, and I’m thankful Weston is giving us this moment together.
Of course, Reece has to ruin the silence by speaking. “You shrunk.”
I push back from him, a playful gasp escaping my lips. “I did not! Don’t blame me because you grew too tall!”
“Pft! There’s no such thing, you’re just jealous of my height.”
My lips twitch in amusement as I get a glimpse of the boy I used to know.
“Why? Is it better air quality up there or something?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Actually, yes.”
“Alright, you two. Now you’ve made up, we should go back to camp, where it’s safe,” Weston says, placing his hand on my lower back.
“Want me to carry you? You’re not wearing any shoes,” Reece points out.
I raise an eyebrow and look at Weston, as if to ask, “Is this guy serious?”
“I haven’t worn shoes in fifteen years, Reece.”
"Oh." I hadn't meant to make him feel bad, so I take his hand and gently pull him toward camp, his warm palm enveloping mine.
“How about you make sure I don’t step on anything dangerous?” I ask, and he nods his head, a look of determination on his face as his eyes scan the dark ground ahead of us.
