Huntsman by Cambria Hebert
4
Virginia
“Faster!”I yelled over the deafening sound of the wind rushing in from my open window.
Earth didn’t say a word, but the purr of the engine rumbled louder, and the black car shot past the one in the lane alongside us.
I laughed, reaching out over the partially lowered glass. I trailed my fingers to feel the wind rush around them as the bright rays of sun warmed my skin.
“Hey.” His voice was gruff, not loud at all but still easily heard over the rumbling engine and the wind. “What did I say?”
I made a face, tugging my hand back inside the car. I missed the warmth of the sunlight on them already. “Keep your hands inside the car,” I mocked in a deep, grumpy voice.
The corner of his lips twitched as he stared straight ahead out the windshield.
He thought I’d obey that dumb announcement if he only opened my window halfway. He was lame, and since he wasn’t watching…
“Hey!” he growled, reaching across the seat to snatch my hand and pull it back. Instead of letting it go, he kept his much larger one wrapped around it, basically pinning it into my lap.
“You weren’t even looking at me!” I complained, trying to wriggle free.
His grip tightened a little, and a prickle of awareness shot through my upper body.
“I don’t have to be looking at you to know you’re up to no good.”
“Fine. I’ll keep my hands in the car.”
He grunted, still keeping hold of my hand. “I don’t believe you.”
He must have eased off the gas a bit because the wind rushing in quieted and the loose strand of my hair fluttered down to rest on my shoulder.
My eyes kept straying to where his fingers wrapped around my hand. No matter how many times I looked away, my stare would go back.
His hand was really big. Warm. Calloused. The contrast between our skin tones was fascinating but lovely. Swallowing thickly, I forced my gaze away once more, turning my head to stare out the window as the city flew by. My ears felt warm, the burning sensation not uncomfortable but not something I could ignore.
The urge to turn my hand over so it was palm up beneath his was sort of like a heartbeat, insistent and steady. I fought it back, feeling like I was basically denying my life force and it was wholly consuming.
“What’s wrong with you?” he barked.
My shoulders jolted back, pressing into the bucket seats. “What? Nothing.”
“You haven’t been this quiet or still all day,” he remarked.
Before I could even answer, he was pulling his hand away, those black eyes of his finally glancing from the road to me. It was the briefest gaze, so why did it feel like he saw everything?
His palm brushed against my forehead, and the back of my head hit the seat just like my shoulders did seconds ago. “Are you car sick?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed, pushing his hand away. “You’re a terrible driver!”
“If you’re gonna puke, put your head out the window.”
I screwed up my face. “I thought you said I wasn’t allowed to stick things out the window.”
“Puke is an exception.”
He downshifted, the car slowing further as he took an exit that would lead us toward the large hospital looming in the distance.
Tension tied a knot in the muscles of my neck, and I let out a slow breath. Another day, another doctor. But hey, at least I got to ride in this cool car and feel the freedom of speed carrying me down the highway.
“Do you know which way to go?” he asked, turning into the massive lot with about a hundred different signs.
I directed him the correct way and sat quietly as he steered down a long row of parking and pulled in. When he cut the engine, I turned to him. “Neo usually drops me off at the entrance and then parks.”
Without a word, he reached back toward the ignition.
“Wait!” I insisted, reaching out toward the keys. “I don’t want you to.”
Letting his hand drop, he turned unreadable eyes back to me.
Nibbling on my lower lip, I confessed, “It makes me feel like such a… patient.”
The was a moment of charged silence, and then he popped open his door. “Well, today, you’re just a regular girl going to an appointment like everyone else. No special treatment from me.”
I made a small, excited sound under my breath, turning back to the windshield with a wide smile on my lips. A regular girl.
Despite the age and heavy body of the car door, it was soundless when it opened. Earth leaned in, his dark head framed with sunlight. “Seat belt.”
Realizing I was still buckled in, I undid the clasp.
“I’m gonna pick you up now, okay?”
My lungs froze, and all I could do was nod. He didn’t ask last time. He just picked me up. I liked it better like that because those words… they created an odd sense of anticipation I never really felt before.
His hand protected my head again when he pulled me out of the car. I don’t know how he managed to bend down, lift me out, and shield my head all at the same time.
He gave my body a little toss upward when he straightened, and I squealed lightly, then giggled. His booted foot kicked the door shut, and every step he took toward the back of the Charger was one I felt. The way his upper body shifted against my side, the way his arms cradled me like I really was so light to him.
My arms automatically clung around his neck, and my fingertips rubbed at the smooth leather of his jacket. He smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke and… bread?
No, it couldn’t be bread.
But it kinda smells like bread.
When he placed me into the familiar chair, his body moved with mine, lowering so he was crouched in front of me again, staying level with me. Grasping the long hem of my dress, he made sure it was tugged down and lifted each foot onto its footrests.
I usually did all of that myself, so fiercely independent with those small things that when Neo tried to help, I would smack his hand away.
But today I sat quietly and watched the calloused hands of a man who was tougher than sandpaper maneuver me so gently that I forgot to be mad.
When he was finished, his chin lifted, dark brows slanting over opaque black eyes that glittered when the sun glinted in their irises. “That okay?”
I wouldn’t be able to feel if it wasn’t. But oh, how I could feel that it was.
The braids curled in my lap swished when I nodded. “Good.”
Glossy midnight hair fell into his eyes as both hands reached up, wrapping around each of my wrists. I gasped, the action finally reminding my lungs to do their job. Dividing my stare between my wrists, it dawned on me I was still gripping his shoulders.
Gently, he lifted my arms away, tucking them into my lap as if I needed help with them too. My ears were tingling again when he straightened and stepped around behind the chair.
“I think I’d better drive today. Seeing how you already broke that old man’s foot.”
It was all I needed to bring me back to life. “His foot is hardly broken!” I exclaimed, glancing up and around. “Such a crabby old man!”
The chair slid forward with ease, and we headed toward the entrance.
“I like being in the sun,” I murmured, lifting my face to let the rays caress it. “I wish I could go out more.”
“Aren’t you always out with your brother?”
I made a sound. “Doctor visit after doctor visit. Inside tinted-window SUVs, dropped off at covered entrances, and then carted straight back to the Tower. This is the most sun I’ve soaked up in months.”
The silence above was like a dark cloud against the sunshine, and I cracked an eye open to glance up. He wasn’t looking at me but straight ahead, and from this angle, his jaw was angular and sharp.
Worried I’d made him angry, I pulled my chin down to stare straight ahead. “I’m sorry, that sounded ungrateful. I’m very grateful for everything Neo does for me.”
He made a sound. “Not ungrateful, and I know.”
“How do you know?” I sniffed, crossing my arms. “I haven’t seen you in months!”
“You been counting?”
Startled, I let my arms fall back into my lap. Restless fingers found and plucked at the ends of my braids. “Of course not.”
He chuckled, and the sound felt like the finest sandpaper rubbing along my arms. Rough at first but leaving smoothness in its wake.
“Earth?” I asked abruptly.
“What?”
“Why haven’t you been to see me? What happened between you and Neo?”
The chair jolted just a bit, then kept moving, the sound of his footfalls on the pavement a little heavier than before.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No. And no one else would either. Not even Ivory.”
“So that’s why you aren’t afraid.” The whispered words fluttered over my head like a soft summer breeze. Not even the meaning of them caused a chill.
“Afraid?” I scoffed. “Why would I be afraid of you?”
Suddenly, the sun was gone, kept at bay by the large awning stretching toward the wide automatic doors ahead. The world turned a bit dimmer, the air a bit cooler.
“Because I’m poison.” The statement was quiet, not at all sarcastic. Not at all a joke.
I wasn’t sure if it was his intention to frighten me, but if it was, he failed.
The familiar, unwelcome feel of the hospital wrapped around me as we entered the building. Fluorescent lighting, crackling loudspeakers, and an odd hush to the antiseptic-scented air.
A few nurses looked up from the large check-in desk, but for once, their eyes didn’t flicker to me. I didn’t have to see the kind smiles that masked their pity or even their sadness.
Instead, all eyes went to the raven-haired, black-eyed leather-wearer who was currently commanding my wheelchair. What a nice break it was to see them openly gawk at him—some with clear intrigue and some with apprehension.
I checked in on the touchscreen kiosk and then swiveled around to head to the bank of elevators down the hall. It wasn’t until we were in the elevator and the distraction of people reacting to Earth was gone that the familiar tug of anxiety, exhaustion, and suffocation started to wrap around me.
“Earth?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t seem small inside this enclosed space.
“Hmm?”
“Will you stay with me?”
The shoulder casually leaning against the wall pulled upright, his eyes growing wide.
“I mean during the appointment,” I hurried to add. “Unless you would be more comfortable in the waiting room…”
He dropped down alongside my chair again. Every time he did it, my heart fluttered. Since my hands were clutched together in my lap, he used my armrest to lean on. “Nervous?”
I considered lying for a fraction of a second but decided against it. There was nothing wrong with being nervous. Or even being scared.
Go on strongly despite the fear.That’s what Ivory always said.
“Maybe a little,” I admitted.
Reaching out, he tugged my braid, making me smile. “Don’t be nervous, sprite. I got you.”
Not incredibly reassuring words.
But I was incredibly reassured.