Spirit

“Totally didn’t know you’d have soup on there. Jesus, I didn’t even know the cafeteria sold—”

Hunter stopped on the street and looked at him. “What do you want, Gabriel? What?”

“I want to know why you pretended to be my friend.”

Hunter started walking again.

Gabriel kept after him. “Michael said your grandfather threw you out because of what happened with Calla.”

“So what?”

“Does anyone trust you? Or do you just feed everyone a line of crap until it catches up with you?”

Hunter couldn’t look at him now. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Remember that day we went running? Remember how you sat on the side of the trail and cried about your father? Was that real? Or just one more act? Something to get me to talk, so you could report back to Bill?” His voice turned into a breathy lisping mockery of Hunter’s. “ ‘Guess what I learned today. Gabriel Merrick misses his mommy.’ ”

“Fuck you.”

“No, f**k you, Hunter.” Gabriel got in his face and shoved him, true anger behind the motion. “You know why you slept alone in your jeep last night? Because you’ve screwed over anyone who might help you.”

Hunter shoved past him and kept walking. He remembered that day, jogging on the trail, racing Gabriel for fun until they ran out of energy and adrenaline and collapsed in the grass. The air had been crisp and clean with the sun beating down—and memories of his father had clouded Hunter’s brain until he couldn’t help but talk about it. Emotion was tightening his chest again, just thinking about it.

A car rolled down the road, swirling dead leaves from the roadside in its wake. Night wind snuck into the space between Hunter’s collar and his neck. He begged the air for warmth, but it was merely content to nip at his skin and make him shiver.

“What I don’t get,” said Gabriel from behind him, “is how you could trust that ass**le.”

Hunter didn’t say anything.

“I mean,” Gabriel continued, “you know he abandoned his own daughter. You know he trapped Chris and Nick and used them as bait. Hell, you saw the news footage of the bridge when he tried to blow up Becca’s car. Some f**king father.”

Hunter just kept walking.

“And if you want to pick Bill’s side, then why did you help Michael tonight?”

“I needed money.”

Gabriel caught his arm and spun him around. “Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit. I did need money.” Hunter jerked free.

Gabriel shoved him in the chest. “Lying to yourself, too?”

Hunter gritted his teeth. “Go away.”

“Why can’t you even answer a straight question?” Another shove. “I’ve seen you drop Mike on his ass one-handed, so I don’t buy this crap about him forcing you into the truck.”

Gabriel shoved him again, a fierce motion that drove Hunter back a step. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to be here.

“Are you messing with my family again, Hunter?”

“Stop it.”

“If you wanted to finish what your father started, then you should have shot us on the soccer field.” Another push, another step. “Quit screwing around so I can decide whether to help you or kick your ass.”

Hunter moved to shove him—and when Gabriel shifted to brace and strike back, Hunter stepped into the motion, hooked an ankle, and spun. The back of his fist caught Gabriel in the face, and the other boy went down. Hard.

Hunter glared down at him, fists clenched and ready for retaliation. “You could not kick my ass.”

Gabriel winced and touched the back of his head. “Dude, this is concrete.”

“Good.”

“Jesus.” He winced again and sat up on the curb. “One of these days you’ll have to show me how you do that.”

Hunter stared down at him, feeling his breathing settle and his hands loosen. He sighed and dropped to sit on the curb. Casper came and pressed against his knees, and Hunter buried his fingers in the scruff of fur at the dog’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you. About Bill.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything, so Hunter kept his eyes on his dog. “When I followed you to the first fire—I wasn’t even going to let you know I was there. But then I could tell someone was trapped, and I couldn’t not—well, you know.”

“I remember.”

“I never told Bill anything. He asked, but I didn’t tell him any of it. Not about the fires, or about the—the other stuff. About my dad, and your mom—”

“I get it.”

“Sometimes . . .” Hunter hesitated. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s right, you know?”

“Yeah, man. You do.”

Did he? It made Hunter think about Michael’s comments in the car, about turning off his conscience. Who decided what was right?

Gabriel stood and held out a hand. “Come on. You can crash in Nick’s room.”

Hunter peered up at him. “What? Why?”

“Because he’s got more floor space for an air mattress.”

“What about all this crap about not trusting me?” Hunter took the hand and pulled himself to his feet.

“Keep your enemies closer, right?” said Gabriel.

But the tension, the challenge and aggression, was gone from his voice.

“Thanks,” Hunter said. “Maybe just one night.”

“Stay as long as you need to.”

Hunter was surprised by the sudden lump of emotion in his throat. He couldn’t say anything.

But then Gabriel smiled. “Besides. If you f**k with me or my brothers again, I’ll just let Nicky suffocate you in your sleep.”

CHAPTER 11

Hunter stared at the ceiling and waited for sleep to find him, but it didn’t seem to be looking too hard. Casper was a heavy weight at his side, his muzzle tucked under a paw. Nick’s breathing was slow and even, a solid indicator of sleep.

Hunter pulled the phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the menu until he found Kate’s last text.

Bueller . . . Bueller . . . Bueller.

He’d never responded.

He should have just deleted it, but his message from this morning, the one about his grandfather, sat there right above it.

He’d been such an idiot. Why had he told her about it? God, he’d been ready to completely unravel in front of her, and then she’d started texting some other guy.

The phone suddenly vibrated in his hand, and he almost dropped it.

I am going to stare at you until you respond. O_O

It made him smile.

He told himself to knock it off.

His phone vibrated again.

O_O

And again.

O_O

Hunter slid his thumb across the keys.

Careful. Your eyes will dry out.

As always, her response appeared almost instantly.

I knew the staring would get you.

He didn’t know what to say to that. A pause, and then another message appeared.

What are you still doing up?

I couldn’t sleep while someone was staring at me.

Why did you throw me out of your car this morning?

Hunter had no idea how to respond. I didn’t want to get played seemed like the wrong thing to say.

He already felt like a loser for almost breaking down in front of her. No sense adding more weight to that.

Then again, she’d lost her mother. Maybe he’d misread this morning entirely.

Nick’s breathing changed, and he shifted on the bed, running a hand across his face before looking down at Hunter. “What are you doing?” He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “It’s two a.m.”

“Sorry. Can’t sleep.” Hunter clicked the phone off and shoved it under the blanket.

“Who are you texting?”

“Nobody.”

A pause. A long one.

A weighted one.

Then Nick’s voice gained an edge as he said, “Is this some elaborate trick to get in our house? Are you reporting back to Bill about us—”

“I’m not.” Hunter paused. “It’s just a girl.”

“Prove it.”

Hunter’s pride wanted him to refuse—but he really couldn’t blame Nick for not trusting him. He pulled the phone out from under the blanket, unlocked the screen until Kate’s texts were visible, and tossed it.

Nick took a quick glance, then tossed it back. The edge was gone from his voice. “Kate? The one who just transferred?”

Hunter looked up in surprise—though her name was clearly at the top of the screen. “How did you know?

“She asked me about you today.”

“She did?” That statement was full of highs and lows. She’d asked about him—but she’d asked Nick. Had she sat with Nick again?

He didn’t care. He didn’t.

Yeah, he did.

God, he needed to stop being such an idiot.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. “What’d she say?”

“She asked if I knew why you were ditching school.”

His heart felt like it was beating faster. No, it felt like it wanted a break from being inside his rib cage. His phone was a warm weight in his hand, and he wanted to pull it out from under the blanket to see if she’d written again. “And what did you say?”

“Ah . . . I said no.”

Right.

Hunter rolled back to look at the ceiling.

Nick said, “Do you know her?”

Hunter shook his head.

“Interested?”

Yes. Immensely. “Not really.” Hunter looked down at Casper, who was blowing puffs of warm breath against his arm. “She seemed into you, though.”

Nick snorted. “Yeah, in a way that made Quinn want to pull her hair out by the roots. I think she’s just friendly.” He paused. “You don’t have to worry about me being interested.”

Well, at least that was something. “You and Quinn getting serious?”

“Something like that.”

“I think Kate’s a player.”

“Yeah?”

Hunter pushed the hair back from his face and sighed. “She climbed in my car this morning, but then started texting some other guy.”

“Quinn saw her get into a truck with someone yesterday.”

Well, there went that. Hunter let go of his phone. It fell off the air mattress and onto the carpet.

Nick continued, “To hear Quinn tell it, he was—well, I’m not going to repeat her phrase, but let’s just say Kate seemed into him.”

Hunter didn’t say anything.

His subconscious was screaming at him. DUDE. You are an IDIOT.

She was probably laughing about him with this other guy.

The room was so silent that Hunter was sure Nick had fallen back to sleep. Tension still had him by the throat, but he started to doze himself.

Nick’s voice caught him. “Hey.” His voice was rough with almost sleep. “I didn’t mean to see the text about what happened with your grandfather. You didn’t say that earlier.”

Now Hunter was fully awake again. “It’s fine.”

“I won’t tell—”

“I said it’s fine,” he snapped. This whole situation was just one big reminder of all his failures. Besides, Hunter didn’t want to think about his home stuff, not now, in the dark, lying on the floor of someone else’s room.

Then he realized that he probably shouldn’t be a total shit in someone else’s room, either.

“Sorry,” he said. “Long day. I really . . . I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“I get it.” Another pause. “Gabriel can come on like a freight train, but he doesn’t hate you.”