Page 2 of Hunter
The Rossis take care of the Havenwood community and run shit around here like it's their own. And since his old man's the ex-mayor and his grandparents own nearly everything here, I guess it is. The Rossi Family's been around for a minute, and they don't take any shit.
I don't really care that he makes me do all of that crap or that his family is involved in some shady shit; I still like coming here. Sometimes e talk, sometimes we don't. My head's loud enough without having to listen to anyone else, and he gets that.
He lets me be quiet when I need it most. Which is usually in the middle of the fucking night when I can't stand to be alone.
I like that this place is just for me. I don't have to share it with anybody else, which is a fucking rarity in my life. There aren't many things that have only ever been mine. Everything I do seems to be with multiple people.
I've been glued to my triplet siblings since forever, I've only ever played on a team, I've never lived in a house without my brother, and I can't even fuck unless there are at least two girls with me.
But being here is mine and mine alone. I keep my art to myself, too. I like to sketch, and for the few hours a week that I get to chill here, that's all that I focus on. My fucking head plays the same shit over and over. This is how I get it out. I draw it, and then Alvi inks it into my skin.
"It's about someone," I tell him without going into detail. A lot of people think that word is too broad, but to me, it means she's the one I see out of everyone else. She's someone to me. Even if just in my head…and my stupid fucking heart.
"Who is she?"My fucking math tutor, aka the bane of my existence, is making me feel shit that I don't wanna feel.She's fucking annoying, that's who she is.
"What makes you think it's about a girl?" Fuck, I can't even keep a straight fucking face when it comes to her. I'm full of shit, and he knows it.
"Because it's fucking impulsive, even for you. So it's definitely about a girl. Especially at 1 AM." I frown and huff. Again, Alv isn't wrong, I just hate that he's fucking right.
"She's part of the story." I'm the villain in my past. I've done a fuck ton of unforgivable, unforgettable, and unfair shit to a lot of people. My choices ended up terrorizing my sister.And then I hurt Edison.
"How big's her part?"She could have her own fucking book if there were a series written about my life.
"Fucking big enough." She's got what my sister would call 'main character energy.'
"Yeah, that sounds about right." There's a crack in his voice that he clears away. We both ignore it. Alvi's like my brother; he wears his heart on his fucking sleeve. And I mean literally.
He's got two little broken and bloody hearts on his left arm. One's his and the other's a girl that he won't talk about. Just hearing her name sends him deep into his head. And because she's the social worker at the shelter and he's involved in everyone's business, he hears her name a lot.
I know what that's like. I know what it's like to get stuck in my head and relive the regret. I end up going over every shameful second and re-examining every fucking detail of the fucked up situations that I've had with my math tutor, along with everyone else.
I pick them apart. I lay them all out and obsess over them. Then I brand myself with a permanent fucking reminder. An artful scar. A black inked battle wound.
Once it’s embedded into my skin, I'll shove the leftover bones that I've spent countless hours gnawing on into a box and compartmentalize that shit away. Like down deep into the fucking mosilium of my soul.
This strategy works for me. I'll never be able to rebuild and reinvent myself like my sister did. Evie has been pretty fucking fearless. She ended up coming here. She worked through her shit and found someone who loved her through all of it. She jumped headfirst into the life that she's always wanted. And from the looks of it, that life's gonna be spent with one of my boys. I've got no doubt that Max will do right by her.Otherwise, I'll snap his fucking neck.
I don't think that I'm gonna be able to glue myself back together like my brother is currently doing. He's now in therapy and focused on getting healthy again. Plus, he's finally got his girl, Red. She'll help him put the hard-to-reach pieces back into place for him.
So far, avoiding and compartmentalizing have been working out. I've got every fucking finger and toe crossed that it doesn't crap out on me either, because I don't know what else to do, especially now that I've seen her again. I'm talking white-flag waving in the air type shit.
Edison fucking Santos refuses to get outta my head. This tiny ass girl is taking up a tremendous amount of space inside my brain. And after seeing her today, she's already re-invaded other parts of me. It's like she declared war.
She leveled me with one fucking look today. I didn't stand a chance against those midnight eyes. Like two black holes, the intense gravitational pull had me caving instantly. I still don't know how I stood there without falling to my knees. I've never been taken down like that. It was like fucking sorcery.
I felt this deep ache in my chest the whole time that I was in her presence today. Me, who doesn't hug anyone, was dying towrap her in my arms and hold her close to me. I usually fucking hate hugs. My family and team don't count, but I'm not someone who likes to be touched like that. And now I'm craving to feel her against me again.See how fucked up all this is? This shit has gotta stop.
I'm fucking desperate.I'll do anything to make these overwhelming feelings go away. Even if it means tattooing an angry fucking cat on my chest. After that, I'm gonna put her ass in a box and throw it as far down into the pits of my own hell as I can.Then I'll be done.
Alvi wipes the excess ink again while the permanent lines seep deep into my tensed-up skin, leaving only the outline of her. I grind my teeth together, and it only intensifies the pain as I strain to stay still under the needle. I need this part to hurt. Where it throbs, and I start to question everything that's ever made me feel anything ever before.
It's fucking fitting that my chest is burning. She's been in that fucking spot since last spring when I showed up for tutoring and she set me ablaze. That's when this shit show started.
I'd been tutored in math since the beginning of sophomore year. Numbers are fucking dumb. They only make sense to me when I'm scoring and we’re winning. Otherwise, I could give a shit. I'd rather write a twenty-page essay than do a twenty-question math test any fucking day.Actually, I'd rather do neither, but I promised my mother that I'd graduate.
And because I fucking hate math and don't want to spend even a second doing it, I've always shown up when I want. My old tutor and I had an agreement: as long as I showed up within an hour of when I was supposed to be there, it wasn't a problem. Then he got fucking Covid, developed some irregular heartbeat, and had to leave school.
That's how I got reassigned to Edison fucking Santos. And that's legit when my fucking life changed. It was one of thosemoments that marked me. I wasn't the same walking out of there as I was before I saw her. As soon as I opened that heavy ass library door and stepped into the busy lobby, I felt eyes on me like someone was watching. Waiting. And she was… for forty-five minutes.
