Page 105 of 2204 Hunter Lane
Fuck. I’m not meant for this life.I spooned a little soup into my mouth and expected my taste buds to disintegrate but it wasn’t actually that bad.Who would’ve thought?
“Well I’ll be damned.” I let out, downing more and more until all that was left was green residue.
As Bambi finished her final bites, Pierre returned as promised with two triangular plates of meat. “Enjoy.”
And I did. Holy fuck I did.
It was like cutting into butter, melted butter but not really. Soft and tender and fucking hell. This dinner really was worth the money I dropped, and let me tell you, it was a fuck ton.
“I’m glad it’s small portions, but I’m also sad because it tastes so good.” Bambi let out, groaning in pleasure as she forked the last bit of steak into her mouth.
“Why’re you glad it’s small portions, then?”
“Because I have more room for starbursts.” She pepped, holding her hand out so I could give her another.
I chose an orange one and placed it in her palm as she pondered for a moment, fiddling with her fingers.
“I’m kind of afraid to ask this because I don’t want to ruin the mood.”
“I gave you free reign, sweetheart. Go ahead.”
Even though the lighting was dim, I could see the redness of her cheeks as she hesitated to speak up.
“Why do you drive drunk if that’s how your mom passed away?”
I figured a question like this would be coming, but today of all days, when she passed five years ago, I dunno… it hit harder. Then again, it was reflective, because I asked myself the exact same thing every time I got behind the damn wheel.
It was hard to explain. A part of me wanted to feel what the guy on the other end was feeling; the rush, the adrenaline, the risk of driving under the influence and breaking laws. We’ve all got a dark side in us, always crave a high that we have to create. And I wanted to see if that high was worth killing my mom.
But it wasn’t. Of course it fucking wasn’t. Nothing would ever warrant that. But Donny Deblin did it, and he got three years in jail for stealin’ my flesh and blood away from my life. Three years for killing a woman. Manslaughter they said… fucking hell. Manslaughter for taking a life.
An accidental tragedy. A fucking joke that was. I remember the first year after it happened, all I could think about was his decision to drive that killed my mom. I remember calling up the sheriff’s office, asking what the verdict was for Deblin’s trial and when they’d told me, I lost my shit. I thought, if I were the judge, he’d be rotting in prison or I’d tie a noose around his neck myself.
But that was back then. About two years ago, I found out that Donny Deblin got laid off and his wife got diagnosed with cancer so he had no way of paying the bills to help her out. Apparently it was too much for him so he got shit faced at the bar and ended up hitting us on his way home.
I was drivin’ that night. Lost control of the wheel when his headlights blinded me and the collision threw me off the road. Mom’s side hit the tree and…
“Hunter?” Bambi murmured, squeezing my fingers. “Please don’t answer. I’m sorry for asking.”
It was then that I realized my grip was strangling the tablecloth. My nails sunk into the callouses of my palm, opening the scars.
We had a deal, and I keep my word.“I drive drunk, Bambi, because in some fucked up way, I’m with my mom. Like she’s right there, sittin’ in my passenger seat, alive. And a drunk man can’t tell the difference between a memory and a moment. That’s why, Bambi. Ain’t nothin’ more to it.”
This time, she didn’t hold back the tears when they fell. And fuck did it cut me deep to watch that. “I haven’t driven like that since you turned me in. And I don’t plan on it again. It was fuckin’ stupid, I was stupid.”
“I’m sorry, Hunter. I just…” She inhaled a shallow breath and shook her head. “Can we go? I really want to be close to you right now and I can’t and it’s killing me because I just want to hug you and –”
“Bambi,” I stopped her, cracking the hardest damn smile I could muster up. “Eat your damn starburst.”
She patted her under eyes and plopped the candy into her mouth, crooking her finger with an open hand. “Give me another one, that answer deserves two starbursts.”
I chuckled lowly. “Dessert’s gon’ be here soon, darlin’. No need.”
The starburst idea sounded ridiculous at first, but when I thought about it more, I realized I was a fucking genius. Bambi’s parents really did fuck her up to the point where she thought having a bite of something sweet was equivalent to drinking bleach. Damn disgusting, I’ll say that.
I could tell she wanted to. Every time we’d go out for ice cream, her eyes practically slurped up my cookie dough cup before I’d even take a bite. It wasn’t fair that she felt the need to restrict herself based off what her parents trained her to be as a teenager. And the one thing I hated most in this fucking world was being vulnerable so if she was having a hard time, I was too. Some things needed to be done though, and I was damn glad it was on my terms.
After eating the crème brûlée, Bambi never asked another question. I didn’t blame her either. It didn’t offend me that she was curious about my mom, but it also left a blade of tension that was impossible to cut. Though the date wasn’t over, and I was stoked to get outta this Buckingham Palace.No five star pea soup could ever rope me back here.
