Page 21 of Silent Vendetta (Vendetta Duet)

“If you cared for my well-being, you would let me go.”

To this, Hunter sighed, sat near me, and crossed his legs.

“I care more about you than I’ve ever cared about anyone, Luna.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I know I might’ve lost you forever, but I can’t bear the thought of you leaving without me at least trying to explain.”

“So I won’t turn you in.”

He shook his head. “I can’t exist in a world where the woman I love looks at me the way you’re looking at me right now, Luna. Like I’m a monster.”

My heart was such a traitor, feeling something other than disgust at his words.

Hunter put the orange in one hand, and with his other, he reached down and pulled something blue from the paper towel: an ice pack, which he pressed to the cheekbone that suffered slaps earlier tonight.

I flinched from the sharp sting of cold, but the throbbing in my face instantly decreased.

“I’m going to tell you everything, Luna. Things no one else knows.”

Hunter pulled his lower lip between his teeth and took a deep breath before continuing, “My path to becoming the Vigilante started the night my father died. Something happened that night that I never told anyone, not even my brothers…”

CHAPTER12

Hunter

The cold, polished wood of Dad’s office door sent a slight chill up my knuckles as I knocked.

“Hunter.” The soft leather of Dad’s journal crinkled as he closed it. The gleaming gold letters of his name caught the muted light, reflecting a gentle glow.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

In fact, his smile hadn’t reached his eyes for a while. Lines of worry had etched deeper into his forehead, a stark contrast to the father I remembered from just months ago, and sometimes, I’d catch glimpses of him in the hallway with his head bowed, lost in a world of his own.

I eyed the journal on the edge of his desk, wondering if it held the clues to his somber mood.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” I said. “I think it was the chicken. Everyone else had beef.”

“Glad to hear it,” Dad said. “What can I do for you?”

“If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Hunter,” Dad said, taking his glasses off. “I’m never too busy for you.”

Still, I hesitated.

“Well,” I started, “today, my teacher asked what we want to be when we grow up.”

“Mmm.” Dad nodded.

“Everyone else had an answer, and I didn’t.”

Dad smiled. “Hunter, you’re nine. No one knows what they want to be when they grow up when they’re nine.”

“Everyone in my class knew. Except me.”

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