Page 92 of Hunter or Hunted
But if those insults were true, why did they lie beside her in bed each night? What did that make them?
“Simone,” Edwards called out behind us. “Simone, wait.”
She kept walking.
I stayed close behind.
We were almost at my car in the drive when he brushed past me. “Hey, just wait a—”
“I can’t.” She spun around, reddened, watery eyes like daggers. “My kid needs me. I can’t do this right now.”
Edwards’ frown stretched toward his chin. A little redness sparkled in his eyes too. “You’re right. She does. She shouldn’t have—No kid should be in the middle of that shit.”
On an exasperated sigh, Simone licked her teeth. “Yeah. Now that that’s established—”
“I said that wrong. I didn’t mean—I just—Don’t let her win. You were having a great time, so was Junie, and you deserve that. You both do.” He furrowed his brows, shaking his head. “Don’t leave.”
A scoff left her. Juggling the child in her arms, the things she could say in front of her, and all the pain of that interaction, her mouth opened and shut a few times. “Don’t leave, Malachi? I can’t ever show my face in this town again—”
“That’s not true. Gwen, tell her—”
“Don’t do that.” She shook her head, voice low but honest. Powerful. “She gets it. You don’t.”
While that was true, I was still hung up on the fact that Edwards had a first name. Malachi Edwards.
“I—Shit.” Simone struggled with Junie’s weight, hoisting her back up her waist, better positioning her hands beneath the backs of Junie’s legs. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I-I just need to breathe. I gotta get Junie to bed.”
His frown stayed in place, but his eyes stayed soft. Understanding. “Okay. I get it. But nothing she said changes anything here, alright? I’ve been dealing with her for months, I know how she is, I know she’s lying—”
“Mostly, yeah,” Simone said. “I never hurt him. Never. I probably should’ve, but I didn’t.”
“I know—”
“But it wasn’t all lies.” Simone choked on the words, but she found her composure. “I’m a mess, Edwards. Where I’ve been, what I’ve lived through, the things I’ve done to make rent, I—Why are you interested? Why do you wanna deal with this shit?”
“Your past doesn’t matter—”
“Tonight perfectly illustrates why it does.” She blinked at tears and swallowed hard. And she waited.
So did I.
For the rebuttal. For the words she needed, for the hope that he knew just how bad the world she came from was, and that he still wanted this. The good, the bad, and the outright awful of it.
She needed him to say, I know you’re a mess, and I don’t care. Your mess matters. This shit made you who you are, and I still wanna do this. I want you for all you are, regardless of the mess. Regardless of the trauma and the pain. I want you.
But his mouth opened, and nothing came out.
Simone sniffled and cleared her throat. “Can you unlock the car, Gwen?”
I dug around in my pocket and clicked the button.
Edwards stood there, catching snowflakes on his silent lips, while I opened the rear door.
Simone slid into the back and strapped Junie into her booster seat.
“I’m gonna stay right here,” Edwards said. “Until you leave, I mean. In case she’s still out here.”
“Thanks.” I gave his shoulder a pat as I started around to the driver’s side. He leaned against the rear passenger door while our collective breath fogged the windows.
