Hunter
"Get back here and take your beating like the pussy you are, boy!"
I whipped around with blood dripping down my eyebrow, nose, and a split lip. My dad charged at me and slammed his fist into my face. I dropped to the filthy carpet floor—a steel-toed boot connected with my ribs.
Before the piece of shit kicked me again, I grabbed his ankle and yanked it. He hit the floor with a thud. I got to my feet, jumped on him, and slammed my fists into his face. Then I grabbed his hair and slammed the back of his head into the floor repeatedly.
Blood pooled onto the floor as I unleashed my rage. When the asshole stopped moving, I got up from him and ran from the house. I refused to let the cops catch me.
I knew the drill. The cops would pick me up, and social services would return me to that fucker. I refused to return to that hell.
After a while, my legs slowed to a walk. I walked the empty streets in a ripped tee shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. The street lights illuminated the streets from the dark sky. I shivered from the night air as it blasted my arms.
It took me an hour before I saw a sign with the name Saintwood. I walked along the deserted street with darkened stores. I darted toward the back and checked doors and windows, searching for one particular store.
When I found what I needed, I pulled my tee shirt over my head, wrapped it around my hand, and slammed my hand into a glass pane in a door. The glass broke and fell to the ground. I reached in and unlocked the door, tripping the alarm.
I hurried inside, located the alarm, and disarmed it. I rushed to the front, grabbed medical supplies, and searched for a bathroom. After locating one, I flipped the switch. I cleaned my wounds, sewed the lacerations, and applied antibiotic ointment and bandages to my cuts.
I discarded the trash into a garbage can, then searched for clothes. I grabbed whatever clothing I could find and changed, tearing off the tags.
Blue and red lights flashed from a window, alerting me to the cops. I rushed to the back door, exited, and ran.
*******
MasonMy phone rang, waking me. I grabbed it and answered it. "Hello?"
"Sorry to bother you, Mason. We received a call that someone broke into a store," an officer said.
"God Dammit!" I threw the covers from me and got out of bed. "I'll be right there." I snapped my phone shut.
Luci stirred and sat up. "Mason? Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, my dear. I need to take care of an issue. Go back to sleep."
"Okay."
I kissed Luci's head as she rolled over and went to sleep. I padded to the closet, turned on the light, and got dressed in a pair of black slacks, a sweater, and loafers. I pulled on a black peacock coat and left.
I exited the house, walked to a black sedan, and climbed inside. My driver drove me to Fifth Street. We arrived with four cop cars parked in front of Hayman's store. I exited the vehicle and walked toward an officer and the owner.
"Sorry to bother you, Mason," the officer told me.
I raised my hand and turned to Harry. "What is the damage, Harry?"
"I found some first aid supplies used and a few articles of clothing missing."
"Is that it?"
Harry nodded.
YOU ARE READING
Hunter
HumorHunter Micheals came from rough home life. Choosing the streets over staying at home, he uses whatever survival mode he develops. One day, Hunter encounters a man named Mason Jones, who offers Hunter a better life. With reservations, Hunter accepts...