Page 23 of Hunter or Hunted

It had my heart beating a bit faster.

“Gwen?”

The voice came from a woman around my age, nudging her way through the crowd. She stood a head shorter than me, blonde hair swept into a messy bun. Her blue eyes were red and puffy. No amount of sniffling could stop the snot that ran from her nose. At her side, a young girl held the woman’s hand. Couldn’t have been older than three.

Gwen pulled away from me, swaying. I kept my hands on her hips. I wasn’t sure she’d stay standing otherwise.

The sobs had ceased, but every few seconds, Gwen’s shoulders rose with a gasping breath she struggled to pull in. Trying to hold it together, she swatted her tears and managed something that almost looked like a smile for the girl.

They didn’t speak. When the woman opened her arms, Gwen opened hers. I let her go, and they collapsed into each other. The woman was a bit smaller, but she managed to hold Gwen upright. She sobbed first, and Gwen followed.

Damn it, I hated funerals. The worst of them all had been Sarah’s. Alcohol had tainted my breath, I was just as shaky on my feet, and Rhiannon was the only one who held me up.

“She loved you, Eve,” Gwen whispered. “She loved you so much.”

Eve. That was her name.

“She loved you too,” Eve choked out. She stepped back and thumbed Gwen’s tears away. A slow, shaking breath eased from her nostrils. “This is so screwed up.”

Little gasps still shook Gwen’s body every few heartbeats. All she managed was a nod.

“The hot cocoa is really good though.” Eve kept a hand on Gwen's shoulder. “She would’ve loved it.”

Tears refilled the brims of Gwen’s eyes. She tried to smile back, but she couldn’t muster that either.

“It just looked like you could use a hug. Another hug.” Eve gave me an awkward wave. “I’m sure I’ll see you at group later this week, but if you need anything, or if you just want to talk, I’m in A119.”

Another quick nod, because that was all she could get out.

I made a mental note of that, because I doubted Gwen would remember. Good thing she’d only taken a step or two away, because her bottom half swayed again. I grabbed her hand before she could stumble. She caught hold of my bicep.

“How about we go get you something to drink?” I asked, stroking my free hand over her back.

Remaining gasps from her sobs still holding onto her lungs, all she gave me was a quick nod.

Inside the rec center’s foyer, I ushered Gwen into one of the fold-up aluminum chairs. She hadn’t spoken yet, but her breathing had normalized. A plus, I supposed.

Fold-up tables lined the edges of the room. A cake and a few carafes took up one of them. On the other, finger sandwiches, chicken nuggets, a veggie tray, sliced fruit. Beneath it, a few twelve-packs of soda. Cola, grape, and just what I was looking for. Ginger ale.

I grabbed it out, flicked open the tab, and headed her way.

Eyes closed, Gwen rested her head against the cedar planks behind her, her back slumped in the aluminum seat. She’d never had a tan, but she looked especially bleak today. Aside from her pink nose and the sore skin around her eyes, I’d never seen her so pasty. No green yet, so that was a good sign.

Squatting to her eye level, I rubbed a hand up her arm. Her eyes flung open but relaxed when they met mine.

I held out the soda. “Here.”

She took it but didn’t bring it to her lips. “Did you try my cocoa?”

“Not yet.” I gestured to the ginger ale. “You look kinda dehydrated. Please. Drink that.”

“Only if you try my cocoa.”

Something between a snort and a laugh escaped me. “I will. But⁠—”

“No buts.” She sat forward. The smell of chocolate and whiskey seeped from her pouting lips. “You have to drink my cocoa. Then I’ll drink the ginger ale.”

I laughed this time. Relief loosened my shoulders as I straightened. “Where’s your cocoa?”