Page 53 of Baked

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hunter could feel Rachelpulling back. With every day that passed she became more distant. He saw it every time she didn’t meet his eyes. He saw it when she barely managed to spend five minutes alone with him before she was inviting friends or family inside his hospital room. And he saw it when he told her he loved her, and she remained quiet.

She’s getting ready to run.

He really wanted to be wrong, but that nagging feeling in his gut wasn’t going away. It was only getting worse. So much so, it was beginning to ache more than the bullet hole in his side.

Today was supposed to be a good day. He was being discharged. Finally. But instead of enjoying his last few hours in the stiff hospital bed that had been his home for the past week, he found himself massaging his temple in the hope that it would control his temper.

Rachel had spent the past ten minutes trying to convince him to stay with his parents. That wasn’t going to happen. That’s not what he wanted. He wanted to go home. To his home. With her. But it was becoming increasingly apparent that wasn’t going to happen.

While she was in the middle of yet another lame excuse as to why his mom was in the best position to care for him, he finally snapped.

“What the fuck is going on, Rachel?” he barked.

“What do you mean?” She wasn’t fooling anyone with those wide eyes.

“Imean, why the hell are you trying to get me to move in with my folks? I’m a thirty-eight-year-old man, for God’s sake, I don’t need my mommy looking after me.”

The tight clasp she had on her hands perched on her lap got tighter. He could have sworn he saw her nails dig into her skin.

“But you’ve just had surgery, Hunter, and you’re gonna need help for a little while.”

“And you don’t wanna do it.” It wasn’t even a question. He knew she didn’t.

When her head dropped, so did his heart. He was right. She was done. She was going to run.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

“Baby, please talk to me.” He gentled his voice. “What’s going on?”

Her head was still down, her eyes strategically averted. “I don’t think it’s gonna work ... with us.”

He was going to be sick. Those words hurt far worse than any bullet.

“Why?” he managed to croak out.

She went quiet, but there was nothing quiet about the thoughts currently spiraling in his head. How could she be done already? He’d only just begun loving her. This was just the beginning of a future they could finally have now.

When she spoke again, it wasn’t a bullet he needed to be worried about. It was the knife she was about to plunge into his chest that was going to leave a mark.

“I-I just can’t do this anymore, Hunter. It’s over. We’re over. I’m sorry.” He watched her choke back a sob. “I’m sorry for everything.”

That was the last thing she said. In a blink of an eye, her chair scraped back against the lino floor, and she was out the door. Leaving him cold, empty, and angry as hell.

“Rachel, wait!” he hollered out of the room, but he was met with silence.

He wanted to chase her. Demand an explanation. But the machine he was still hooked up to had other ideas. So did his hospital gown.

Fuck my fucking life.