Unfinished Business

12

Eight years earlier...

"We're goin' huntin', Macey. Why the hell are ya wearin' a goddamn dress?" Dylan, Wyatt's best friend of the trio, scans me over from head to toe as he heaves a duffel bag of guns into the bed of Wyatt's truck. There's black paint smeared on his freckled cheeks and a beanie covering his red hair.

I cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes. "Because I'm not going to be hunting, Dylan. I'm watching. No way am I shooting an animal."

Going hunting was something I never thought I'd do, but Wyatt loves it, and I want to learn more about the things he enjoys. However, if I'm going to go out into the middle of the woods and sit around for hours, I'm sure going to look good as hell doing it.

"You're goin' to get bit the hell up," Dylan says and points at my bare legs and sparkly sandals. "Do you know how many mosquitos are out there?"

"And snakes," Timmy adds teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

My eyes narrow into slits. "Snakes? Wyatt didn't say anything about snakes."

They're both trying to see when I'll break. I don't think they believe I'll actually do this and go hunting, but I'm going to prove them wrong. Even though Wyatt and I have been dating for a little over a month, they still tease me about being a city chick.

"Who knows? Maybe we'll find a bear, too," Dylan says. He and Timmy erupt into a heap of laughter as Wyatt finally comes out of the barn and shoots them a glare.

"Don't think I didn't hear everythin' y'all said." He looks at me, eyes softening. "There ain't gonna be any bears, darlin'. You'll be fine."

"And snakes?" I ask.

He shrugs, and I suppress the urge to let out a groan. "If anything, it'll just be a garden snake. It's rare that we see any."

"But you've seen them?"

"Yes," he says reluctantly, eyeing my outfit. "Do you want something else to change into?"

I was perfectly content going in a dress and sandals, but now that I know there might be snakes? I shudder at the thought. "Fine," I reply. "Only because I don't want a snake biting my ankle off."

Wyatt barks out another laugh, turning back around to enter the barn again, leaving me and his three friends alone. Parker still hasn't said anything. He's the quiet of the bunch, his shoulder resting against the side of the truck as he scrolls through his phone.

"We're just messin' with ya, Taylor," Timmy says. "This is all part of the initiation into our friend group."

I arch a brow. "And how long does this initiation actually last? It's been a month and you still won't let up."

"They're idiots," Parker says, lifting his eyes from his phone to look at me. "Don't pay them any mind. You're already in our friend group, and what you're wearing is fine. There won't be any bears, and if we see a snake I'll rip its head off before it comes near you." He blinks, not giving any indication that he was joking or not. I'm surprised he even paid attention to what I was saying.

It doesn't even seem like Parker likes hunting. Wyatt, Timmy, and Dylan are all decked out in camouflage from head to toe, but Parker is wearing a used pair of jeans and a black sweatshirt. Almost as if he can read my mind he says, "I don't like hunting, but they force me to come every year on the opening day."

"Ah." I nod and let out a soft laugh. "Should I be calling you city-boy, then?"

His lips threaten to turn into a smile, but he holds it back and shakes his head. "If you call me that you'll regret it, Taylor."