Page 44 of Hunting Gianna
The trail widens as we near the lodge. Little lights are strung up along the path, blinking through the trees like half-hearted Christmas. Knox doesn’t look at them, but I can see his face in the glow—more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, eyes crinkled at the corners, mouth soft.
“Tell me something real,” I say, just to see what he’ll do.
He looks down at me, brow furrowing. “Like what?”
“Anything. Something about you as a kid. Something that isn’t murdery or weird.”
He snorts, but there’s no bite in it. “I had a pet monkey once.”
“What? How the?”
“Meh, my neighbor was a crackhead and bought weird pets. Couldn’t take care of this thing and gave it to me. I dunno what happened to it but it was gone by the end of the week.” He shrugged, his jaw clenching.
“What else?”
“Well, I like trapping. Hunting and all that. The wait for something to step in the trap you set is unlike anything else.”
“That’s why you like watching me?” I ask, cocking a brow.
He squeezes my hand, not letting go. “It’s better than anything else I’ve ever hunted.”
There’s a strange comfort in that, even if it’s sick. I could say something mean, but instead I just walk closer, matching his stride. Our bodies move in sync, the way animals do when they’ve stopped pretending not to want each other.
We pass the last of the lights and head up the porch steps.
Before we reach the door, I pull him to a stop. He turns, curious.
“Your dad,” I say. “You talk about him like he was the hero and the villain in your story.”
He laughs, bitter. “He was both. Mean drunk, but he made sure I never forgot how to survive. He died in a gutter with a bottle in his hand. Maybe that’s the way he wanted it.”
He tries to make it sound like he doesn’t care, but his jaw clenches so hard I can see the veins pop in his neck.
“Sounds like you miss him,” I say, soft.
“Don’t know about that.” His voice cracks on the words, barely audible. “I just wish he could see me now. What I turned into.”
For once, I don’t have a smartass reply. I just let the words hang.
He looks down at me, searching my face for something. I’m not sure what he finds, but he lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles, slow and deliberate.
It’s the most intimate thing anyone’s done to me in years.
I look away, because if I don’t, I’ll lose my Goddamn mind.
He releases my hand and motions me down a smaller path. “I have something I want to show you before we go eat. Don’t worry, dinner will be served until late.”
“But I’m—”
“Please.” Something breaks in me the way he says it and I just nod, allowing him to lead me down the path.
I follow him, and for the first time, I think maybe we’re not predator and prey anymore.
Maybe we’re just two animals who found each other, in a world that doesn’t care if we survive.
Chapter Fourteen
Knox
