Run Away With Me
A Hunter & May Story
Blake knocked on the door of the cabin. As he waited to hear the sound of footsteps approaching, he looked around, whistling a tune. His hands were in his pockets and he was doing his best to give off an air of relaxation and peace. Meanwhile, he could hear his pulse thumping in his ears. Jarrod was a dangerous man, but right now Blake felt like he was the one that posed a risk.
From this end of the driveway, you couldn’t see the road where Blake’s truck was parked. The evergreens were tall and thick, holding tightly to the privacy they provided and a nice layer of snow from the small storm the night before. The yard was a blank canvas of white. Hunter hadn’t been out much apparently.
The porch had been the only thing freed of snow, forgotten flakes packing between the old wooden boards. A few empty beer cans were lined up under an Adirondack chair that had seen better days. A wooden plaque hung beside the door. On it a bear was walking across a field, Donner was spelt out in thick wooden letters. Blake stared at it. He had a similar sign at home but it said O’Conner.
It was a gift from May.
Blake knocked again, harder this time. His knuckles ached and he shoved his hands back into his pockets to hide the scabs that had formed.
“Hold your horses. I’m coming!” There was the sound of something falling inside. Blake hoped it was Hunter, he could almost picture him tripping over his own feet and landing on the hard wooden floor inside.
The door opened and revealed Hunter Donner on the other side. He was thinner than Blake remembered and his brown hair was uncombed. His brown eyes assessed him, his lips pressing into a thin line. Because he was slouching, they stood at the same level when normally Hunter was three inches taller.
“What do you want?”
“Hi Hunter. Nice day.”
“It was until you showed up. Why are you on my porch?”
“Can I come in?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. Why are you here?”
“It’s about May.”
“Now, I really do want you to leave.”
Blake stuck his booted foot in the way of Hunter closing the door in his face. “No, you don’t.”
“I have nothing to do with her.”
“She’s in trouble.”
Hunter swore under his breath and opened the door wide. “Come in then.”
Blake walked in and Hunter peered around his front yard, worried Blake may not be alone. Of course, he saw no signs of anyone else in the yard. From his porch, he couldn’t see the road and the road couldn’t see him. He had his house built this way and planted a dense line of evergreens to ensure his privacy remained intact at all times. Privacy was his priority, it always had been.
“Where’s your truck?”
“The road. I parked at the hiking spot down the way and walked.”
“Someone following you?”
Blake sat at the table. It was rickety and had seen better days. The layer of dust, and the looseness of Hunter’s clothing, hinted that it hadn’t been used in some time. Again, there were traces of May here as well. There was a vase of flowers, the blooms so dry and paper thin it was amazing they weren’t disintegrating. And was that her earring? Hadn’t she worn those recently? She had, he was sure of it, a few weeks ago, when all of this nonsense started. Or at least, when she told him about it. He remembered her leaving in the morning, shoving them into place as she walked briskly around their bedroom getting ready for work while he stared from the covers. Blake couldn’t look away from the little stub, the jewels in the shape of a sunflower; he had purchased them for her a year ago. His throat and fists both tightened, the scabs on his knuckles cracking.
“I think so. Seemed like a safe bet to not pull into your driveway. There’s only one way out, isn’t there Hunter?”
Hunter leaned against the counter, careful never to turn his back on Blake; doing so would be like turning his back on a rattle snake. He didn’t particularly care to have the man in his house, but the mention of May being in trouble caught his interest. Blake of course knew it would. “Depends on how you want to play this Blake.”
Blake smiled. “I meant you only have one way to leave your driveway.”
“I’m sure you did.”
Blake slapped the table. “So our May.”
“She isn’t our May. She’s your May. You’ve made that very clear, you both have in fact.”
“If you say so. Doesn’t seem that way to me but that isn’t why I’m here. Or is it?”
“Just get to the point. I’m not dancing with you today.”
“May is being stalked.”
