Chapter 23

Derick still hadn't returned after what felt like hours. At least, Hunter assumed it had been hours. Pain has a way of stretching time endlessly. From his best guess, the bleeding had stopped. The sharp, stabbing pain had subsided to a steady throb, as long as he didn't move. He lay flat on his stomach, bound to the floor, severely restricting his movement anyway.

Twice, he had craned his neck to inspect the damage on his back, but each attempt sent waves of excruciating pain through him, making the effort not worth it. He decided against trying again. The constant pained expression on Juliette's face was more than enough confirmation of the injury's severity; he was better off not seeing it for himself.

Juliette hadn't budged an inch from his side. Her hand remained entwined with his, alternating between resting her other hand on his arm and running her fingers through his hair. She seemed to think her touch would soothe him – it did – but it also felt oddly unsettling coming from someone who normally shunned anything that might be considered tender physical contact. Essentially, this confirmed to him that he was a dead man walking—or rather (since he couldn't walk), a dead man chained up and awaiting whichever attack would end him. He tried not to dwell on that thought as he felt his heartbeat pulsing through the lacerations and welts covering his back.

"I have a confession," Juliette said suddenly.

They hadn't conversed in a while, and the silence between them had grown heavier with each passing moment. Hunter carefully turned his head toward her, trying to minimize the pain.

"Oh god. What is it?" His voice came out stressed and agitated despite his attempt at playfulness.

"Stop moving; you're making it worse," Juliette commanded with a mix of authority and gentleness. "Celine is why I came out today. She tricked me into it. I wanted it to be her so badly."

Hunter almost laughed but got sidetracked imagining how things might have been different if Celine had visited instead. Would his mother have left so abruptly? Probably—something would have offended her. Would Derick have attacked if she hadn't left? Would he have killed her?

Hunter chose not to voice these thoughts to Juliette and instead asked how Celine managed to force her to pack a bag and drive herself to Rosedale against her will.

"She said I was scared to talk to you and didn't believe me when I denied it. So I had to prove her wrong."

"Jesus, you're so predictable it's almost funny." But he was lying, and his chuckle betrayed him. It hurt, but Hunter decided it was worth it.

Juliette denied being predictable, earning a scoff from Hunter; even she seemed aware she was fooling herself.

He hesitated but then asked before thinking better of it, "Were you? Scared to talk to me?"

"No!" Juliette insisted, though a sheepish smile crept across her face. "Only a little bit," she admitted reluctantly, embarrassed.

Hunter pressed his lips together, trying to hide his smirk. "You admit it? Okay, that I did not see coming."

Juliette almost punched him but caught herself just in time, her fist stopping a hair's breadth from his shoulder. "Sorry! Sorry!" she exclaimed, letting her hand drop to the floor beside his face. "Force of habit."

He almost wished she had hit him. Sure, he had enough bruises already, but he wanted her to stop treating him like the fragile victim he felt he was. It was degrading.

"I was scared of hurting you," Juliette confessed quietly. Hunter searched her face and saw traces of guilt. "I knew I would."

Hunter didn't know what to say. Juliette was always so fearlessly bold. Hearing her speak so openly about being afraid...

Yeah. He was in deep trouble.

To avoid delving into that again (it was starting to get a bit dull), Hunter changed the subject completely. "Right now, the only thing that terrifies me is how Derick looks as a blonde."

Juliette's eyes lit up at the new topic. "Well, he has only one working brain cell; he probably wanted to look the part."

Hunter gave her a curious look. "Is that a blonde joke?"

"Yes."

"Juliette, you're blonde."

Juliette lifted her chin proudly. "I know that, but I'm a genius. I'm the exception to the blonde rule."

Hunter's gaze lingered on the back of Juliette's wrists, torn open from freeing herself from the zip-tie. The dried blood flaked off her skin in patches. She might be a genius, but she wasn't being particularly wise. If she wasn't careful, she'd end up getting herself killed. Hunter wasn't sure she fully grasped that danger.

Noticing his stare, Juliette quickly shifted the subject again. "Okay, can I ask you something?"

"Obviously."

"I made an extremely inappropriate observation," Juliette said with mock seriousness. "Given the circumstances."

"You terrify me." He was only half-joking.

Juliette waved a hand vaguely in his direction. "When did all this happen? I mean, you're in really great shape."

Hunter's face split into a wide, amused grin. "Why? Impressed?"

"I was, briefly. But then I was traumatized."

"That's completely inappropriate!"

"As promised," Juliette grinned at him.

"I've always been in good shape. You just never noticed." If Hunter didn't know better, he'd think Juliette was flirting. But unfortunately, he did. "Are you trying to distract me from the fact that my step-father just beat the crap out of me by complimenting my looks?"

"Depends. Is it working?"

"Yes, yes it is." He wasn't lying; he felt much better.

"Then yes, that was my master plan." Juliette looked so pleased with herself, Hunter started laughing—really laughing—for the first time since the abduction. Juliette joined in, and even though it hurt like hell, Hunter never wanted it to stop.

Their laughter only faded when they heard Derick's voice and the rattle of chains being removed from the door.