Page 73 of Hunter or Hunted

After folding down one of the rear seats, we set it all up for Samson in the hatch. The moment we made it available, he used the litter box. He chowed into the can of wet food a heartbeat later. When he finished, he cozied into the bed behind the driver’s seat.

We returned to the hotel, gathered our things, changed into comfortable clothes, and checked out. Before Allie was even in the ground, we were on the road.

Just after we turned onto the highway, Sebastian said, “I didn’t expect that. Charlotte and the casket, I mean.”

Neither had I.

“I’m glad it happened though.” I stroked the purring kitty in my lap, watching the trees on the side of the highway race by. “Gave me a better lens to view her through.”

“Yeah?” He spared me a glance before returning to the road. “How so?”

“It seemed like she cared more for Evan’s reputation than her daughter’s life at first. That’s how I interpreted it anyway. But I think that was just the knee-jerk reaction.”

“Still not sure if I’d argue the former,” he muttered. “But what’re you thinking now?”

“That her head’s as messed up as any of ours.” Samson looked up at me, and I took both his little cheeks in my hands. “It’s taken a year to reach the point I’m at now. Where I can rationally dissect all the things my ex did. All the things my mom’s exes did to her. We put up with the shit for so long, we became immune to what it all meant. And we loved the bastards. We saw our failures—all the times we screamed, or threw something, or fought back—as our fault as much as theirs. In my mind, I was just as bad as him. Until I saw what he did to Honey, anyway. That’s when it clicked for me.”

“Hm,” Sebastian said.

I arched a brow at him. “‘Hm?’”

Expelling a breathy laugh, he raised a shoulder. “I’m just not sure I know what you mean.”

It wasn’t an easy thing to put into words. “You said something about my mom yesterday. About what she thought of my ex.”

“Right.”

“And I never gave it much thought,” I said. “Her role in how I wound up with him. But I see the pattern now. Not just that we both wound up in abusive relationships, but the normalization of it. My mom wasn’t a bad person, but she loved bad people. That’s why she loved my ex. She tried so hard to see the good in the worst, and that sounds admirable. It would’ve been, I guess, if she was a social worker helping reform troubled young men or something. But she got that part twisted. She thought that love and kindness was all it took to save people.”

“She wound up enabling the behavior instead of addressing and correcting it.” He held the wheel with one hand and propped his elbow on the center console. “Charlotte did the same thing with Evan.”

“And her husband,” I agreed, trailing a hand over the mats on Samson’s head. “Charlotte’s mother probably did the same with her husband, and her mother before her. It was never that she cared more for Evan than Allie. She just thinks that if she’s good enough to these shitty people, they’ll be good too. They’ll do better. That’s why she didn’t mind Evan approaching Ava. Not because she wants Ava to feel the pain Allie did, but because she thinks he’ll be better now. He loved Allie, and he lost her, and he’ll do better with Ava, because that pain of losing her is proof of his failing. He won’t want to feel that again.”

“She doesn’t understand that it’s a fundamental difference in character,” Sebastian said. “That Evan can’t treat Ava better, or anyone else, because he sees nothing wrong with what he did to Delilah.”

“Because she still sees the best in the worst,” I agreed. “Yeah. And if my mom were alive, she probably would’ve done the same thing. Consoled him when I left, I mean. She saw the same goodness that I did, regardless of what was an act. Honey was the catalyst for me. If not for that, I’d probably still be there. I could’ve been Charlotte or Ava, because the chaos of abuse was just as normal to me as it is to them. Plus, admitting Evan was as bad as he is would mean admitting he fooled her too. She’s got too much pride for that. So I guess I just...I don’t know. I see it now. It’s not that she didn’t love her daughter. She just loves everyone and everything more than she should. Unconditionally.” Frowning, I shook my head. “Real love, mutual love, needs conditions.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” he said. “I agree. Unconditional love is for your kids and your pets.” He stroked a hand down Samson’s back.

I laughed, and he smiled. As it teetered off, I cleared my throat. “About Evan. What I’m gonna do. If that’s a condition for you⁠—”

“It’s not.” His voice stayed soft. Calm and controlled. “If I still didn’t want to do it, I’d tell you so. But I agree. It’s the only way to keep it from happening again.”

“Yeah, but if you have conditions⁠—”

“Oh, I do,” he said. “I need to think on it first. Let everything settle in. Make a solid plan. But there will be conditions. Who we do it to, why, how. But you’re not forcing me into something I’m against. You just nudged me toward the reality I’ve spent a long time ignoring.”

Who we do it to.

Did that suggest he was open to doing it again? Not only to Evan, but the other Evans of the world?

It sounded like it, and that realization warmed my chest. As bizarre as that may have seemed. The strangeness of it wasn’t lost on me.

Maybe it was just nice to know my morality wasn’t as twisted as it may have appeared.

“Anyway,” he said. “You’re calling her Allie now?”

“Given the circumstance.” I lifted Samson toward him and waved a paw. Sebastian chuckled, and so did I. “It’s not fair anyway. We shouldn’t have to change our entire identities to get away.”