Huntress

Chapter 37

The explosion defusing didn't keep us from being at each other's throats for the rest of the evening. I blatantly refused to sleep anywhere other than the bed. He said the same. It didn't matter which one of us snarled or swore more. The other wouldn't budge.

"You didn't bring me anything to sleep in," I accused, searching for a new barb to jab at him. "Milo is going to know if I show up wearing clothes I slept in and I've already been in Keiko's clothes for far too long. You can't throw a filthy girl at him and expect him to not be suspicious."

"Then borrow mine," he ground out. He was already digging through his duffle bag before I could even open my mouth. A University of Alberta sweatshirt was tossed at me along with a pair of boxers and some grey sweatpants.

"You just have extras on hand?" I asked. The hostility that had been in my voice wavered, leaving something softer behind. I could smell his scent along with a botanical detergent.

"Even before you, I was on the road a lot. I don't really have a home base. The majority of what I have is in here," he stated.

I turned and walked to the bathroom before I could allow myself to say anything or even just to think about what he had said. living out of a duffle bag, driving from one town to the next, because your home base was gone. Destroyed. I knew the feeling. Pressing on, living life like everyone else around you was not an option.

I remembered all those nights staring at the ceiling, wondering how I would ever heal from what had been done to my family. I was scared to check the date, like I had been scared of the dark as a child. Life had marched on and I was being left behind. I couldn't escape it, no matter how hard I worked, no matter how fast of a car I drove.

And now... I felt like I was right back where I had started from.

I shook the thoughts out of my head and climbed into the shower. The water was a little more refreshing since I didn't have an impatient queen waiting for me this time. I scrubbed my skin with the provided bar of soap and could almost hear my mother demanding to know it's ingredients. Then I lathered my copper colour hair and rinsed until I felt every bit of the cell and the shed leave my skin.

For a moment after my shower, I just stood in front of the foggy mirror. I could see nothing more than my silhouette. I didn't see the lines of my muscles, the shade of my eyes, or the gnarled tangles in my hair. Just a vague outline of a person. And for a moment, just for a second, I wished that I had been like my brother. I wished that I had picked up the tatters of my life that were salvageable and moved on. I could have been anyone by now. Could have lived in a sprawling country home, or tiny apartment in the city. Could have driven an Audi coupe or a dodge minivan. Could have been a lawyer, a teacher, a nurse. A dermatologist like mom.

And that is where the train of thought faltered. Moving on meant leaving them behind. That was not an option, would never be an option.

I hacked the small, hotel-provided comb through my hair before considering Ryder's clothes that I had left the on the counter.

It felt so intimate as I slid the cotton sweatshirt over my head. I kept my features neutral as if invisible beings would see and judge my reaction, but having his clothes brush my skin, having his scent swirl around me, it did something to my head. It only worsened as I stepped into the boxers and tugged on his pants. I just gritted my teeth and left the steamy room.

Ryder didn't spare me a second glance. As soon as I sat on the bed, he was off his side, going to shower himself.

He left the television on. A sports channel played back at me, showing me slow-motion reruns of mountain bikers getting throttled down a hill. It was a bizarre thing to watch. They looked like they were holding on for dear life and letting gravity do what it pleased, but there was control in some moments, like it was more about choosing when to struggle and when to simply be. The screen changed to a podium shot. First the women's category, the three of them filthy and dusty, but grinning like mad.