CONTENT WARNING - ABUSIVE HOMOPHOBIA
I'm seated in the passenger seat while leaning against the hunter's frame. His arm acts as a second seatbelt, draped protectively across my front. Every time he hits the brakes, his hand instinctively shoots out to keep my head from rolling off his shoulder. A lazy smile stretches my lips each time he cradles my face, securing it in place, before releasing it with a gentle caress to my cheek.
I'm not actually asleep, just in a state of serene contentment to the extent that my body is limp and my eyelids are glued shut. Logan obviously is aware of that as well, but that doesn't deter him from caring for me as he drives. We're returning from headquarters after submitting the tokens from the mortuary.
Fortunately, we were once again able to convince the lead supervisor, William, to help in keeping Mr. Cross off our backs. The scheme we came up with is to commit to grinding commissions relentlessly for four consecutive days, pouring all our energy into the task at hand. Once completed, Logan discreetly hands over the tokens to William, trusting in his authority and discretion. With his position of influence, William will manipulate the records to reflect a two-week timeframe for the commissions, giving the illusion that we had been diligently working online on a regular basis.
Today was the final day of our hunting grind. During our return to Rodgerdale, we've been staying at my place. Logan, ever cautious, maintains a deadly silence in the house to avoid making his presence known to others. He even sleeps in the guest room, citing his distrust of us sleeping together in one bed.
The thought amuses me, and I nestle closer to the hunter's side. He lets out a soft hum, allowing my intrusion into his tranquil driving, before suggesting, "I believe spending another night at your place would be wise. We're both exhausted and driving all the way to the cottage would be impractical." I only nod in agreement.
Just then our phones buzz in unison, capturing our attention. As I reach into my pocket to fetch mine, Logan's device starts ringing. Straightening in my seat, I exchange a wary glance with him. He retrieves the phone and checks the caller ID before passing it to me. I take it and my brows knit together at the name glowing. I tap to answer and activate the speaker, "Marcus?"
"Collen? Where are you two??" The panic is clear in his voice.
"We're on our way home. Why? What's going on?", Logan interjects, his tone tinged with concern, while I hone in on the distant sound of Gwen's raised voice in the background. Her enraged shouting is targeted at someone present with them.
"I can't explain over the phone. Get over to Gwen's! Hurry!" With that, the call abruptly ends, leaving us worriedly staring at the screen. Parking outside the huntress's house, we race through the wide-opened front entrance. The moment we enter, my eyes dart past Marcus to fixate on the young brunette, his head hanging low. The sleeves of his jacket are torn off and the gray shirt underneath is missing a couple of buttons.
"George..?" His name catches in my throat as he lifts his head and I take in his battered appearance—a broken nose, a busted lip, a gash on his left cheekbone, and a swollen eye. "What the fuck happened??", I rush forward, gripping his arms tightly, "Who did this to you?!"
George's voice is barely a whisper as he speaks, "The hunters in the HQ..."
My eyes widen in shock, and I turn to look at the blonde hunter standing beside Logan. He appears uneasy, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, unable to meet my gaze. Meanwhile, Logan's expression darkens as he processes the situation, piecing together what I clearly haven't yet grasped.
Turning back to George, I survey the injuries he bears, anger beginning to swirl inside me. "Why? Why would they do this to you??", I demand, my voice laced with disbelief and outrage.
