Page 86 of Sweet Silver Bells
Hunter nodded, appreciative of her apology.
This is who you are now, Hunter. She will kill, and you agreed to protect her.
The light side in his internal tug of war was suddenly winning the battle as guilt began to creep inside him, gasoline directly from the pump, just waiting for a match to fall. He was raised, as most were, to be good, to be kind, not to take any lives.
She isn’t evil, he told himself.She’s heartbroken. She’s been alone.
It was hard for Hunter to see someone who rose up from hell. Instead, he saw a wounded puppy who needed love and would give it in return.
You need love, too.
“Would you like to take a shower? My parents are expecting us downstairs.”
“Will you join me?” Olivia asked.
Hunter’s sorrowful look was nearly instantly eradicated as he opened the bedroom door, his arm pointing out. “After you.”
Her hand grazed his pelvis, a tickle, as she walked through.
An hour later,fully recovered and impeccably cleaned, the couple sat down at the table in the formal dining room, plates of mashed potatoes and halibut in front of them.
Hunter’s dad, Mark, sat across from Hunter, taking slow bites of his meal with large gulps of red wine, slowly draining the glass.
“Your friend’s dead then?” his dad asked, breaking the silence. “A bit fast to get the body back, but I suppose if it’s just cremation then?—”
“Not appropriate dinner conversation, Mark,” his mom cut in, too bubbly. “How about instead, Olivia, tell me what is it that you do, or want to do?”
“What I do?” Olivia questioned, poking the fish.
“Olivia loves plants, gardening, trees,” Hunter chimed in.
“Really?” Mark’s interest piqued.
“Will you open a nursery, then?” Minerva asked. “I think it would be grand to own a nursery. You could hire people to work for you and visit whenever you’d like to see your hard work.”
Olivia shook her head. “I do not want to be around people. I try, for Hunter, but it is not my preference.”
Minerva seemed like she could not comprehend the thought; she’d always been entirely too social.
“I understand that,” Mark chimed in.
“So then what, get married and be a housewife?”
“Why would I want to do that either?” Olivia asked.
“What else is there?” Minerva asked, eyebrows almost defeating the Botox to rise.
“The forest—” Olivia started to say, but Hunter cut her off.
“Olivia is on furlough, trying to decide what direction she wants to take.”
“Oh, how lovely,” Minerva said, “to have that opportunity to explore. Isn’t it lovely, Mark?” Hunter’s father grunted and nodded his head. “I just mean that a woman who wants an exploratory life needs to marry into money. And until we both die, Hunter has none.”
“Mom.” Hunter stared. “We will be attending a funeral tomorrow morning. The timing isn’t ideal—I know how important the holidays are to you—but we should really be there to support.”
“Oh yes, well, you’ll have to go to that by yourself. Olivia and I have plans,” his mom responded while pushing her food around on her plate.
Hunter looked at Olivia, who just shrugged at him.
