Page 31 of Hunter
“Then come back tonight and earn it. Thursday nights are always crazy here. I could use the help. You like numbers, right?” Numbers are predictable, and I know what to do with them.People, not so much.
“Yeah, but I don’t like crazy.”Ya he pasado por suficientes mamadas. I’ve been through enough shit.
“Consider the office yours then. It’s quiet in there, and you can look at the books. You’ll have a desk, a computer, the couch to crash on, and the mini fridge that I’ll stock.”¿Qué lo qué? What the?!
“Uh, I didn’t apply to work here.”This man’s lost his fucking mind.
“I’ll pay you cash money, twenty an hour, you set your schedule.”Maybe he’s fucking crazy. Why would he offer me all that?
“¿Por qué haces esto?Why are you doing this? You don’t fucking know me,” I snarl and bare my teeth while glaring at him. I don’t like it when men try to be nice like this. There’s always a catch.
“Easy now, I know you're one of Amy’s, which means you need some help.” And there it is.Sí, no. Yeah, no.“I also know that you're someone to him,” he says while chin pointing to the snores coming from the floor. “And that dumb fuck is the closest thing I have to a stupid little brother, so… that’s all I need to know.”
“So, what do you want me to put in a good word for you with Amy? Because that’s not happening. You’ll chew her up and spither out, and she doesn’t need shit like that. She’s way too fucking nice for you, tattoo guy. Stay the fuck away.”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t mention me at all to her. She doesn’t need to hear my name, old wounds cut deep, and neither of us needs to be bleeding right now.” I don’t know how to respond to that. I’ve never gone on a date, let alone been romantically involved with someone. It sounds fucking terrible.
“And for the record, she’s the one who did the chewing and the spitting.” He looks heartbroken, standing here talking about it, and it’s making me feel weird.So many fucking feelings.
“Did you forget about last night?” I question and try to get him back on fucking track instead of strolling through memory lane.
“Last night’s another reason I want you to take the offer.”
“I don’t wanna add any heat.” I really don’t. It’s bad juju, and I don’t need any more fucking negativity.
“Sounds like an excuse to me; I already told you the neighborhood takes care of its own.” He’s right, it is an excuse, and I know that the smart thing to do would be to take him up on his offer and play into the script. I just have a hard fucking time taking shit like this when it’s offered to me.
“So we good?” He sticks out his hand, and I stare at it as the wheels in my brain grind together. I’m standing at a crossroad; I hear the goddesses I trust more than any fucking human being, urging me to take the opportunity that I’m being offered.
“Yeah, we’re good.” We dap hands, and he nods his head in agreement. He turns around and lets me leave in private, which I appreciate.
Especially when some deep and embedded, intrinsic feeling starts to gnaw at my core until I give it what it wants, I quickly sneak one last glance at that sleepy, fine ass man on the floor. He looks so peaceful, like he’s in the deepest sleep, having the sweetest fucking dreams.
I bet they’re all full of unicorns, rainbows, and fucking happiness. And here I am pushing open the door, double-checking to make sure all my armour is in place so that I can go out into the cruel world and face another day of hell. Alone.Sola.
DIECISEIS
I checkmy phone for the time, and I have only a few fucking minutes. I hustle up the block and move my ass. It’s cloudy out, and the wind is no joke. It’s gonna rain later today. Now is myonly chance to retrace my steps from last night. I need to see what went on back there.Is that guy really dead?
The back of the shopping center is full of dumpsters, old pallets, and debris. Nothing is standing out to me as I look over the area. I know I ran down toward the back of the tattoo shop and turn my body around.Fuck, where was I last night?
Honestly, nothing looks out of the ordinary back here— same old shit. I keep walking, trying to retrace my steps, when I see it. There they are. My poor orange peanut butter cracker is crushed up on the ground where I dropped it. Seeing it smashed up like this makes me fucking sad.Qué triste.
There’s water on the pavement, and I follow the river trail to a larger wet spot on the concrete underneath and around a dumpster. They were over here,verdad?
It looks like someone washed something away. I can see darker stains on the ground and feel it in the air.Aquí es donde ocurrió.This is where I stabbed that motherfucker.A strong gust of wind causes me to topple over, and I land on my side just as a pallet propped up against the side of the dumpster crashes to the ground to cover the smeared spot.A sign.
Señora Úrsula used to tell me that signs were all around us, and I know deep down that this is one now. I look around to see if the wind disturbed anything else, and spot an overturned garbage bag.Perfecto.I walk over to it, grab the red drawstrings, and pull it over to the pallet. I pull my girl outta my pocket, thumb the switch, and slice through it. Trash spills out, and I make it look messy as hell before throwing the bag away.
I take a few steps back to look at my work, take a deep breath, and hold the morbid energy in my lungs while holding the handle of my switchblade. And then I let it all go, sending protection to those who need it, just as I did last night.
?Gracias, Hecate y Lilith, por protegerme.Thank you, Hecate and Lilith, for protecting me.With this exhaled breath,I add energy to the universe and send strength to our sisters in need.?
I walk down the alley toward the shelter, throw my braided hair over my right shoulder, and readjust my beanie. With my intentions and manifestations flowing through me, I feel safe. I can protect myself. And if I’m going to be alone in this cruel-ass world, I’m glad that I can take care of me.
By the time I got to the shelter, only scraps of breakfast were left. When Amy saw me, she handed me a wrapped-up piece of banana bread that she had saved for me, along with a water bottle and a look that made me feel so fucking bad that I almost lost my appetite from all the guilt that filled my stomach. She bends the rules as far as she can for me, but sometimes it’s not enough. And last night, when I snuck out after hours, I needed to break them.
I rushed to campus and had to settle for brushing my teeth and washing my face in a third-floor bathroom next to the lecture hall where my Medieval Warfare history class is. When I do this, the other women in the bathroom always look at me in horror, like I’m some sewer rat who made her way above ground. At this point, I just ignore them and hope that they have the day they deserve.
