Hunter (Broken Bad Boys 1): A New Adult Bad Boy Romance (22 page)

“Because I never wanted to go here. I told my parents that I’d be able to do this on my own. I was doing okay.”

“You lost weight.”

“I was careless.”

“Careless… Interesting choice. How were you careless?” I don’t like the intonation that she’s using. Like she’s trying to catch me in a lie. Like she expects me to admit to fudging and then being caught.

“Not eating is so much easier. I just… I was so caught up with everything going on that I missed a couple of meals.” And as soon as that started… It all got so much easier.

“A couple of meals doesn’t make you lose four pounds in a month.”

I’ve not been lying, I’ve been trying to be good. Why the interrogation? I close my mouth and try not to cry or burst out in anger. I don’t know how it happened, I just know that I never wanted it to happen.

“Lizzy, if you want to get better, you need to be honest.”

“I am.” Tears start tumbling down my cheeks. “I am.”

Rose stays silent for a while, each with our own thoughts. Then she moves. “How is your eating schedule going?”

I shrug. “Fine, I guess.” It’s very similar to what I eat back home, I wasn’t skipping on my main meals, it was just the snacks that were throwing me off. At first anyway.

“You need me to change anything?”

I shake my head.

“So, you’re okay with me switching out a couple of things, try new things?”

I nod. Why not? It’s not like I have much of a choice anyway. “I… Can I go?”

“Sure.” Rose nods. Then she stands up. “You need to tell me if something is wrong. Is it too much?”

“No.” My voice is harder than I mean for it to be. “I made a mistake. I know that. But I don’t want to be here, I want to be at home, with my friends, live a normal life. How is progress a bad thing? How can me getting better faster than expected be a bad thing? For the first time, I have a life. Sure, maybe the life-health balance was a bit off. But I didn’t need to be locked up. I could have recovered at home, I didn’t have to be ripped away from all that.” I storm out of the room, blindly going for the doors to the balcony. I need fresh air, now.

But no matter how hard I push at the doors, they won’t budge. I slide down, my back to the doors as I fold in on myself, the tears not stopping. How did I deserve this?

I’m not sure how long I’m sitting here, but a pair of shiny black shoes stop in front of me. “Lizzy?” Dr Cole’s voice is quiet, careful. “I think it’s time for us to talk.”

I nod and push myself up against the doors, the world spinning for a moment and I know I’ve been stupid. “Can we sit outside?” I hand Dr Cole my diary, so he can check it.

“I’ll open the window in my office, okay? Maybe next time we can sit outside.” He walks next to me as we go to his office. I want to tell him that I want to go out there, now. I need the fresh air, the feeling of freedom, even if it’s just on a balcony. Dr Cole opens the door to his office and I follow him inside. “You want to sit at the window?”

I look up, at the small fields at the sides of the hospital. I’m not sure that sitting there would make me much happier. “I’ll stand.” I open the window. It’s cold. I’d forgotten that it’s the end of October now. Dammit, how fast the temperature drops. When I met Hunter for the first time, it was insanely hot, and now it’s already cold, maybe even too cold to go outside without a jacket. I stare out the window for a while, looking at the people walking past, as Dr Cole reads through my entries from the last couple of days.

He looks up. “Can you close the window? It’s getting really cold.”

I nod and close the window before I sit down in a chair, pulling my legs up under me and pushing my hands into my lap, trying to warm my stiff fingers back up. Some people say that Dr Cole is scary, too imposing, but I don’t see it. He’s kind and seems to really want to understand what is going on.

“So, you had a bit of a breakdown at Rose’s office?”

I shrug.

“Can you talk about it? Do you want to talk about it?” He pulls his own notebook onto his lap and holds his pen. He likes writing with fountain pens, he’s the only psych that I know who does that. He also doesn’t use black or blue ink but always things like green or red or purple. It’s… I don’t know, I guess that it’s one of his quirks.

“I try really hard to get better. But she thinks it’s wrong. That I’m getting better too easily.” The tears start again and the words just won’t come out.

“Are you? Is it too easy?”

I shake my head. “I just don’t want to be here.”

“Nobody wants to be here.” He sounds so sure, but I’m not that sure, not with some of the girls I’ve seen.

“I don’t…” I stop myself. It sounds really stupid, but I need to say it anyway. “I don’t belong here. Not this time.”

“Don’t you say that every time you’re here?” Dr Cole moves and I look up. “You lost a significant amount of weight, you were ill and you’d hurt yourself. That pretty much sums up that you do belong here.”

“But I… I didn’t hurt myself on purpose. That was…” What was it? Instinct? Self-protection?

“Then tell me about that night.”

The one thing I’ve been refusing, the one thing that people keep asking me. To tell them about what happened that day at Hunter’s. I shake my head.

“Lizzy… We can’t make progress like this. We can only work with the facts we have if you don’t give us more information.”

I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember the crazed look in Hunter’s eyes, the loud noises, the way he destroyed everything he could get his hands on. And then the blood on his hands, the scratches and bruises.

“Lizzy. There is something going on in your head. Share it. Tell me why we’re interpreting things wrong.”

I don’t even know where to start. What part is the most important?

“This dream from last night. Hunter is protecting you against himself. Is that what happened?”

I shake my head.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Never.” Never physically. The pain is all mine and my messed-up brain.

“Did he hurt someone else?”

“Himself.” I don’t mean to say it, but now it’s out. The dam broken. “He went crazy. I asked him something and he just flipped. He started throwing things.” I only remember bits and pieces of this part. “I had a panic attack.”

“He got mad because you asked something?” It’s a reasonable conclusion, but it’s not right, right?

“No. He… It wasn’t my fault. He had… a bad flashback.” Right? I’m not so sure any more. He didn’t want to hurt me. Damn, the look in his eyes when he realized what had happened. I’d never seen him look like that. He was scared. Scared of himself in a way that I can totally relate to, even if he doesn’t know that.

“A bad flashback?”

“He lost his girlfriend last year. A motorbike accident. He was there with her. They’d been together for years. He… He was about to propose to her.”

“Are you sure you’re not making the same mistake as with Dennis or other guys?” I’ve told Dr. Cole about that before—anything to avoid talking about Hunter, anything to avoid talking about the last couple of weeks.

I shake my head. “No. I…” I what? Actually love him? I want him? I’m in lust with him? How can I even explain how I just know that this is different? How I know that Hunter is actually a good guy? “I wish I could explain it.” My voice drops to just above a whisper. How can I explain that no matter how much I want him, how much I can’t stop thinking about him, I just know that I can’t have him? That his darkness will only make mine worse?

“Do you want him to touch you, embrace you?”

I nod. I long to be in his arms right now. Make everything bad go away, just for a little while. Even though, right after his outburst, I couldn’t stand for him to touch me again, but at the same time, I wanted him to hold me and tell me things would be okay.

“That is the first time ever, right?” His voice is soft and as I look up at him, maybe he does understand. Maybe my brain isn’t as insane as I think it is.

I nod again.

“Up until now, only Lola has been allowed to touch you.”

“Some—”

“No, let me rephrase. She was the only one who you wanted to be physically close to.”

“Yes.” I miss her. Every night, I miss her.

“And now Hunter.”

“Yes.”

“I think… I do think that is quite a change.” He writes something down. “I’m going to ask this, and you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to. Yeah?”

I swallow hard, but still nod.

“Do you want to be
intimate
with him? Do you have an urge to do that?”

Do I? From the moment that I laid my eyes on Hunter, I knew that I wanted to touch him. Sure, there is a certain artistic quality about him, but that is not where my mind went. The first time I saw him, somewhere in my brain, for the first time, hormones released that would change everything. I was suddenly aware of someone in a sexual way. “Yes.” And it’s not just an urge. “I have.” I can feel my skin heat up.

“You
have
been intimate with him?” I can hear the surprise in Dr. Cole’s voice, because I don’t dare to look at him right now.

“Yes.”

“Willingly?”

“Very.”

“I’m now going to ask a really stupid question, to you anyway. But it’s important. How did that interact with your eating disorder? With how you perceive yourself?”

“I—” I don’t know. I guess I’ve looked at myself differently recently. “I don’t hate my body as much, I think. I’m still trying to process that. On the one hand, there is still the issue and the eating disorder hasn’t gone away, but on the other hand, I look at myself differently and no longer in a bad way.”

“Okay. Good. Honest.” He takes a deep breath. “I think that you would really be helped with some more help from here. Guidance. Rose and I have talked about what would be an achievable goal, and I think that we’ll keep to that for now. I also think that we should keep meeting.” I’m about to groan. “But I also think you should get more privileges. I can understand that with everything going on, you were in a situation that you hadn’t been in before. And that messed things up. We’ll get you used to a new normal and I think that you may be helped with some other therapy too. Take the help, get better and you shouldn’t have to be an in-patient much longer. Does that sound good?”

Does it sound good? It sounds like the best thing ever. Finally someone who believes that I wasn’t doing this on purpose, finally someone who understands that I wanted to get better, not worse. “So… those privileges?”

I
can’t do this
. I stand in front of the cemetery where Tessa is buried. It’s been nearly a year and I’ve still not visited her grave. I don’t belong here. It was my fault and I don’t deserve to visit her. I don’t deserve it. I turn back around and walk around the borders of the cemetery. I’ve come here a couple of times, but I’ve never been inside. I just couldn’t. I wish that maybe, at some point, I can do it. But today is once again not the day.

I grab my bus pass and get to the nearest bus stop. I thought that I could do it this time, but I still can’t. And for the first time, it only makes me sad. I’ve lost my anger the night that I burst out in front of Lizzy. It’s weird. For a long time, I’ve carried this anger inside me. This anger that was eating me up inside and making me do stupid things. But now… The anger is gone, and there is only sadness. Sadness and pain. How did that happen?

The bus arrives and I step on, taking a seat close to the door. I stare out the window, not seeing what is going on, only seeing Lizzy in my mind’s eye. It’s been a month since I last saw her, since I last talked to her. I know that Lola has had some contact with her, but I don’t want to keep bothering Lola and it’s not like we’re friends like that anymore. She saw the damage I’d done to my studio and I knew that whatever friendship was rebuilding between us, that was gone. She’ll probably never trust me again.

I’m so focused inside my head that I don’t realize new people have stepped on the bus until a voice calls out to me. “H.”
Lola.

I look up and there she is, standing in the aisle. “Hey.”

Then Lizzy steps from behind her, staring at me, her eyes big. And I think I must look the same. She’s
different
. She looks so much better—she looks healthy. Lizzy inclines her head at me and then breaks eye contact.

“Hey.” I feel silly for repeating the greeting. Just her being here, standing there, it makes me very aware of myself. “I didn’t realize you’d come over this weekend.”

Lizzy nods.

Well, so much for having conversations…

“We’re on our way to the mall.” Lola moves Lizzy so she’s sitting in the seat next to me, also at the door. “What are you up to?”

I shrug. “Going home.”

“Do you want to join us?”

“Lola.” Lizzy speaks up, frowning.

“Hey, he’s welcome to join us. I don’t think that the doctor said that we couldn’t have someone else join us too.”

“But I wanted to spend time with you.” Lizzy leans away from me.

I sigh. “I’m good. I’ll just go home.”

“No.” Lola crosses her arms in front of her. “We’re not doing this. Lizzy, you can’t keep avoiding him. He was worried too.” She looks up at me. “H. Don’t pretend like you don’t know us just because Lizzy is being difficult.”

Lizzy and I both nod. How did Lola get in control of us?

“Is there a place you want to go?” I turn to them more and Lizzy relaxes some. I reach out slightly, touching Lizzy’s hand with my fingers. She stretches her hand and then weaves her fingers through mine. And holds on tight. Touching her releases the tension I’ve been feeling for the last weeks, knowing that no matter what happened… We’re still okay.

“I was just thinking the mall, I didn’t have a place in mind. Lizzy has to be back at the clinic before dinner.” Lola now moves and sits in the seat behind us.

“Well, that gives us a couple of hours, right? Don’t your parents want to see you too?” If she’s finally let out of the clinic for a day, why would she not spend it with them?

“It’s just Lola and me today.” Lizzy shrugs. “Our parents come by the clinic every couple of days. I just really needed to be out of there.”

“And she’s in desperate need of art supplies and clothes.” Lola chimes in.

I meet Lizzy’s eyes and I can see how she’s calmed down a little, not as nervous about me joining them.

“I can help with that. Both of them.” I grin and Lizzy squeezes my fingers, hard.

“Hunter.” She stage-whispers at me as she turns a pretty shade of pink.

“Oh, this I haven’t heard yet.” Lola leans forward. “What about clothes and Hunter?”

“Do you want to tell her?” I look at Lizzy. It’s her choice.

“Hunter made me a dress.”

“What? When?”

“A while ago. It’s not important.”

“Your color tells me differently. Was it pretty?” Lola asks Lizzy, but she looks at me.

I now also eye Lizzy, curious about her reaction to that. After what happened that day, we never talked about it again.

“Yes. It was really pretty.” Lizzy’s blush deeps and then she glares at the both of us. “Now, can we talk about something else?”

I can’t help the huge smile spreading over my face. She liked the dress.

Lizzy smacks my leg. “Stop grinning like that, or I’ll never say it again.”

I try to bring my face back to normal, but just her reaction makes it all worth it. God, she makes my heart warm every time she does things like this.

* * *

T
he mall is busy
, which is no wonder on a Saturday, but since I don’t usually spend my weekends here, it does take me a bit off guard. I keep looking for Lola and Lizzy—the twins are sometimes like one mind, and when I don’t keep my eyes on them constantly, they disappear. Like, they’ll be walking in front of me one moment, and then have dived into a store the next moment. How does anyone keep track of that?

“H!” Lola waves at me from another store and when I look up she shakes her head. As I come closer she looks at me intently. “Where is your head today?”

I laugh. “You’re asking me? I’m not the one moving at the speed of light.”

“Hey, we’re trying to let you know where we go.” Lola shrugs as she looks at Lizzy, who is browsing through a rack of clothes.

“I can’t read your mind, unlike Lizzy.” I bump my shoulder against hers as she starts to frown. “What?”

“I wish I could read her mind, maybe then I would know what to do. She’s such a puzzle sometimes. I used to know her so well, but these days, I don’t even know.” Lola sighs. “I don’t want to sound so bummed.”

“If it makes it any better, out of everyone, you seem to be the only one who really gets her. Who can read her moods, even if they’re only small. She actually listens to you.”

“If I can read her mind so well, then how do I not get what she sees in you?” She keeps her voice light, but there is an edge to it that makes me look at her closer. That hurts. I know she doesn’t approve, but that still hurts.

“I don’t know either.” I don’t. I wish I did. Maybe it would make talking to her easier.

“Even though you scared her away, she still talks about you, dreams about you. I’m not sure if it’s stupidity or something else.”

“Lo.” That is going too far. She’s my friend. She used to be my friend. So why the nasty words? “Don’t.”

Lola looks up at me, her jaw set, her eyes dark. “I know you. I know the things you got into with Tessa. I can’t have that happen to my sister. I can’t have you put Lizzy in the same dangerous situations. I can’t.”

“I’m…” I’m not like that any more? Who am I kidding? She’s seen the bruises. And she’s right, I keep doing the same things as I did when I was with Tessa—getting into fights, being stupid. The rock star lifestyle: sex, drugs and rock and roll, or, you know, fights. “I get it.” I get not wanting to lose a sibling. If there is one thing I understand, it’s that.

“If you do, then why? Why do you do this? Why does she keep doing this?”

“Because she isn’t scared, she’s not scared of me.” Even though I’m probably the most dangerous person in her life.

Lola lets out a deep sigh. “Sorry. I—” She shakes her head. “I just don’t want to see her hurt again.”

The burn scar on Lizzy’s arm suddenly pops into my head. “I’d never hurt her.”

“No, not on purpose. But that doesn’t mean that she’s safe around you either.” Lola starts walking towards Lizzy and I see her body change as she puts on a happy facade.

I stay where I am, taken aback by Lola’s words. I don’t even know how to react to that. If I can, or even if I should. I know that Lola is trying to protect her sister, but has she ever wondered if Lizzy needs all that protection?

“Hunter!” Lizzy comes over, looking at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I smile at her, even if that doesn’t make the worry in her eyes go away. “Did you pick something out yet?”

Lizzy shakes her head. “Help me look?” She touches my hand for a moment, as if she wants to weave her fingers through mine, but then she pulls away and walks in front of me. Being out here, in the open, it scares her to touch me, or maybe it’s just Lola that she is uncertain of. Lizzy looks at me, waiting for me to meet her eyes, then she holds up a pair of black jeans. “I was looking at these.” She holds them in front of her. “What do you think?”

They’re just another pair of black jeans, basically the same as all the other ones she has shown me today. I know she’s trying, but it’s just too awkward today. But I smile and give comments, compliments. We interact like we’re supposed to be “normal” friends, even when the looks she keeps shooting me tell me something else.

* * *

I
t’s getting dark
, which starts early in November, and when I look at my phone, I realize that it’s almost five o’clock. “Lizzy.”

She looks up from a bin full of art supplies. “Yeah?”

“It’s almost five. What time do you need to go back?” I come over and look at the things she has collected in her arms.

She pulls a face. “I should go back. Lemme find Lola and we’ll get back to the bus.” She dumps a couple of things back into the bin and then starts wandering around. We soon find Lola, looking at fountain pens and ink and notebooks. Because of course. “Lola. Time for the bus.” Lizzy steps next to her sister and puts her head on her shoulder. “What did you get?”

Lola shrugs and looks up, meeting my eyes. “Not much. What are you getting?”

Lizzy shows her the pencils and some paints and other things. “Not much.”

Not much, right. But I know that artists can be very picky about their brands, and I don’t think clinics can stock everything that a true artist would need to work with.

Lola rolls her eyes. “Right. I’m just gonna get this pen. So let’s get out of here.” We make our way to the till.

As we walk past the big pieces of paper, I remember something that I forgot to tell Lizzy. “Ah, Lizzy.”

She looks up at me, waiting in line.

“We’re paired up for the final project for drawing.”

She looks surprised by that. “He’ll let me?”

“It’s mostly an out-of-class project anyway, so as long as we can meet up a couple of times, it’s not that important, I guess.”

“I guess.” She doesn’t look very convinced though. Hmm. Luckily, we’re saved by the till and she pays for her supplies. I hold my hand out and instead of giving me her bag, she just glares at me. Fine. “I’m not letting you touch my things.”

“Really?” I can’t help but grin and wink and Lizzy’s eyes go wide, her jaw drops and she colors a dark shade of red. Adorable.

“Hunter,” she squeaks as she pulls her bag in front of her. “That is…”

“Reality?” I raise an eyebrow and she flushes even more.

“No…” She swallows hard, then she looks around. “Where is Lola?”

“She’s still paying.” I point to behind her and Lizzy looks up. Then she reaches out and touches my hand, sneaking her hand into my grasp.

My heart starts beating like crazy, and next to me Lizzy’s breath comes out uneven. I carefully squeeze her hand. “Are you doing okay? Is the clinic helping you?” Questions I don’t dare to ask, but now we’re alone, now we’re this close, I’m finally brave enough.

“Yeah. They’re really good. They’re teaching me a lot about myself, things I’d…” She’s quiet for a moment. “Things I’d denied myself in the past.”

What? I want to ask her more, but Lizzy pulls her hand from mine and as I look up, Lola is coming our way. I guess that’s the end of that conversation. “If you have access to the internet or a phone or whatever, and you want to talk, message me. I’m always there.” I talk quickly, because like our previous conversation, I’m not sure I want Lola to know or hear this. Especially after her cryptic words from earlier on.