Page 97 of Hunted
“I’m gonna put the coffee on,” King says, passing me in the hall and heading for the stairs.
I stand still, debating what to do as my mind reels over everything I just found out. My hands clench into fists as I think about what Westsaid. I had to agree with him. Part of me wishes those men were alive so I could beat the living shit out of them myself.
And it’s not like she’s out of danger yet. Someone is still actively targeting us. I’m not even sure who the real target ortargetsare anymore. We need the FBI to find Frank and put an end to this, once and for all.
Deciding I need to let out some of this pent-up anger, I head downstairs to the gym. Only a few rounds with a punching bag could calm me down now.
Chapter twenty-eight
Darla
Istand in front of my mirror and stare at my costume. I can’t believe today is Halloween. Not only have I not celebrated one in over fifteen years, but I also kinda forgot about it. Even in my own head, that sounds stupid, but with survival constantly at the forefront of my mind, I seemed to have forgotten some things completely. That is until I’m reminded about them.
Take today, for example. It wasn’t until Bower presented me with two costume choices this morning and explained the reason, that I even remembered Halloween and that dressing up was a thing. I’m just glad we’re having our own private party with just the five of us. I’m sure someday I’ll feel brave enough to go out to a club, but today is not that day.
This whole week has been a little exhausting. I feel like ever since the guys found out about everything that happened on the island, they’ve been looking at me with worried glances, as if they think I’m going to suddenly break.
The strange part is, before I told them, that was exactly how I felt. Like one small crack of thunder might send me over the edge. But since I’vetold them, I feel… lighter. I’m sure it helps that I had my first two therapy sessions this week.
They took place online, and most of the time was spent with me talking about myself. But Dr. Larson was a great listener and gave me a few small pieces of advice that have helped.
The one I keep reminding myself of is that there is no right or wrong way for me to feel or act. If I want to cry or scream, then I’m entitled to do that. If I want to feel sad or angry, then I’m justified in doing so. Somehow allowing myself to feel those emotions makes them pass quicker. Knowing it’sokayto be sad makes me happier. It’s weird, but it’s working.
I pull my braid over my shoulder so I can see it in the mirror. It’s much shorter now, but I still look like Zee. I don’t feel like her all the time anymore, which I think is a good thing. I’m still trying to find the balance between Zee and Darla. Most days, one wins out over the other.
When Bower showed me this cavewoman costume, he said it was the closest thing to my jungle look. He thought I might like dressing up as the old me. The other option he gave me was a sexy bunny. I immediately took the cave woman outfit and decided to modify it.
I cut the dress in half so it was now a crop top and skirt, and I’ve attached my sheath to my waist so McStabby is hanging on my hip. It’s like a cleaner version of the old Zee.
I smile at myself in the mirror, then head downstairs. The best part about today is that I've finally finished my period. I forgot how annoying they were; it’d been so long since I had one.
Going to see Dr. Reynolds was slightly terrifying, but she had such a calm presence that she made the whole day we spent there slightly morebearable. It seems like she did every possible test on me and by the end of the day, I was completely exhausted.
The good news is, there’s nothing wrong with me. Dr. Reynolds explained that when I was on the island, my body was reacting to the extreme trauma combined with the drastic food change, and that’s why I didn’t have my period for such a long time. It wasn’t until I was in a safe environment for an extended length of time, and eating regular food again, that my body started to normalize and reset itself.
She did a very thorough check up and said the miscarriage didn’t damage anything inside of me. If I ever wanted kids, it should be possible. I asked for the birth control implant immediately. I’m not sure if kids are in my future or not, but I need to get myself stable long before I can even think about children. Besides, I have four boyfriends, how would that even work?
“Tink! You look hot!” I lift my head as I step into the living room and freeze in my steps, my eyes wide with amused surprise. Bower is dressed like the male version of me.
“Are you… Tarzan?” I ask, tilting my head as I get a good look at him. His hair is down for once, and it brushes the tops of his shoulders, and he’s styled it in a messy way, which adds to the wild look he’s got going on. On his body, he’s sporting a loincloth… and nothing else.
“You like it?”
He lifts his arms out to the side and spins. I choke on a laugh when I see the back part only covers half his ass, his butt cheeks clearly visible on either side.
“Where did you even get something like that?” I ask as I step closer to take a good look. He has a smattering of hair on his chest, and it just makes him look even more rugged and sexy.
Damn… this look is really doing it for me.
“I have my sources.”
“You look… good,” I say, my mind unable to come up with a better adjective.
“Just good?”
“Uhh… really good? Sexy as sin? Completely fuckable?” His eyes widen then he smiles down at me, pulling me against his chest in a hug.
“You know, this loincloth definitely has its advantages.”
