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Hunter
Two weeks later, Hunter Chase breezed past Xyla Harmon’s desk on the 29th floor of Powell Street Tower in Emeryville.
The over-zealous dark-skinned assistant abandoned her on-going phone call, got on her feet and hurried forward to block his entry into Tiara’s office. To mellow her stance however, Xyla forced a smile.
“Please sit down over there, Mr Chase,” she gestured at the three empty comfy seats in the office-cum-waiting area. “I’ll let Ms. Williams know you’re here.”
“I’ll announce my arrival,” he replied, his tone curt.
Glowering at the thin-waist, average-height woman attired in a pinstripe tailored blazer and pants, he evaded her, wrenched the doorknob to Tiara’s office so hard, the brass handle worked loose.
Turning to Xyla, he raised an eyebrow. “Got a screw driver and a wrench?”
“I’ll call maintenance, sir,” Xyla replied through tight lips. “Wait here, please. I need to inform–”
“Suit yourself.” Shaking his head, Hunter marched inside Tiara’s office with overarching confidence.
Xyla inhaled slowly and snapped her mouth shut. But she followed behind.
Entering the calm surrounding of his therapist’s office now, he took a few steps inside. Tiara–who wore a below-the-knee navy dress with red and white trimming at the high neck, sleeves and hem–was seated in the chair at the centre of the office. She had a notebook opened on her laps. Even with his entrance, her head remained bowed like she had been waiting for him. He checked his watch. Wed. 7th Oct. 2:05 p.m. Alright, he was five minutes late.
“Waiting for me, Tiara?”
Her flowery scent lifted the hairs on his neck. Every surface–table tops, book shelves, fireplace mantle, wall-mounted TV–were tidy and clean. White painted walls, white flooring, black and white centrepiece rug, and a single potted plant, all added to the clean lines. During his first visit, he must have shut his eyes.
“Mr. Chase didn’t wait–” Xyla started to explain.
“Never mind, Xyla,” Tiara smiled and her small face transformed into a brilliant star. “Thank you.”
Today, she had her hair done up in rows at the front that blew into a mass of stunning dark curls parading across her back, shoulders and sliding around her elegant neck. With her sexy mane and doleful dark eyes slanted in his direction, Tiara was the epitome of a lioness dominating her territory.
Once the assistant shut the door behind her, the smile on his therapist’s face slipped and faded. He felt a tightness in his gut. Guilt. That feeling was odd.
“Your session started five minutes ago.” Tiara broke into his thoughts, adding, “Sit down, Hunter.”
Gesturing at the white sofa opposite her own chair, she did not glance at him. Her posture reminded him of middle school when he had been called to the principal’s office to be scolded for one naughty prank, or the other.
“Is timeliness important to you, Tiara?”
He wanted to get a rise out of her cool demeanour.
“Yeah. I like to be organized.”
“I think you like being in control more.”
Instead of sitting on the couch she suggested, he strode to her bookshelf. He glared from one book spine to the other looking for no book specifically.
“That’s right. Do you like being in control, Hunter?”
“I’m always in control.”
“Your glasses, is it medicated?”
“Why? Does it bother you?”
“Not at all, Hunter.”
“It’s for reading.”
He ran his fingers along the book spine. Many of the books on the shelf had to do with human psychology, brain functioning, behavioural pattern. Boring stuff. His eyes strayed to his royal blue Nike Air Max Plus III trainers and he felt a tug in his chest. Today, he stopped to think about what to wear before he decided on a khaki shirt, tapered blue jeans and a denim jacket. That was something he had not done in a long while.
“Does it bother you that you’re not in control of the disturbing images you see at night?”
Bitch! He gripped the bookshelf tight to keep calm. Tiara took every chance to act like a damn shrink. That pissed him off. Granted, during his first, he had acted like a rogue. But he had found out the woman was one tough cookie. Unbreakable. Nothing he did scared, Tiara. When her top button broke however, he knew he had gone too far. But it was too late.
None of that out-of-control act today, he advised himself. Even if he could not do it for himself, he had to do it for Shannon. Yeah, for Shannon.
“Would it bother you if you had nightmares, Tiara?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t be able to sleep. What’s the worst nightmare you’ve experienced, Hunter?”
“Bloody faces and screeching dying people making unwanted appearances.”
He glanced back to see her scribbling on the notepad. Marching over to her seat, he snatched the pen from her hand and threw it against the fireplace. While her mouth gaped open, he collected her notepad, ripped off the first page, closed it and dropped it on her desk a few feet away.
“This is how this is going to work, Tiara.” He lowered himself on to her spotless couch. “When I talk, you’ll not take notes. There’ll be no written, or audio record of our discussion, understood?”
“I’m ethically bound to write down–”
“I don’t give a damn about your ethics!” He tore the piece of paper to shreds. “I honestly don’t. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
“Fine. I’ll write after our session is done.”
“Don’t write! Get that through your thick skull.”
Growling, he launched from the sofa and grabbed the arms of her chair. He spun the seat around so many times, she clutched her belly and reached for his hand after a while. Before he could stop the spinning chair, she threw up on the black and white rug. It was some liquid mush, brown in colour and it smelt off.
“What the fuck!” he muttered under his breath.
For a brief moment, he felt a pang in his chest, he could not breathe. With his own hands and callous heart, he had made his therapist sick. Even for him, that was low. He dashed to her table, grabbed a handful of tissues and raced to the bathroom.
What have I done? His heart slammed against his chest and his pulse climbed higher.
Avoiding staring at the mirror, he hastily wet a towel with cold water. Hurrying back to Tiara’s side, he carried her off the chair and sat her on the couch.
“Shit! Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay to you, Hunter?” She rolled her big eyes and puckered her lips. “This is so humiliating!”
Pursing his lips, he wiped her stained lips with the wet towel, and dabbed at her face. Part of her brown make-up came off on the white towel.
She frowned, touching one hand to her brow.
“Stop. I’ll handle my face.”
Leaving her side for a moment, he got out one bottle of water from her small fridge, unscrewed the cap and offered it to her.
“Drink some water.”
“Thank you for making me vomit, Hunter.”
When her lashes fluttered open, her introspective dark eyes took a jab at him before she emptied some water into her mouth. But there was no condemnation in her gaze, and he did not get hit across his cheek.
“You’re crazy, Hunter Chase,” she whispered.
“That’s why I’m here.”
For the first time in a long time, he finally admitted to himself he needed help. He also acknowledged he wanted Tiara’s help in particular.
Tiara had totally got through to him, shattering his defense. Against his will, she pushed him over the edge emotionally but caught him in time before he hit rock bottom. The truth was, he had not always been a raging lunatic. He had been a happy, go-lucky guy, once. That was a lifetime ago.
“What have you done, Hunter? You keep crossing the Peter lines. Now, you’ve gone too far.”
He nodded. “I know. It seems you need my help at the moment more than you think I need yours. Did you eat something terrible?”
Tiara shook her head.
“I can’t stand spinning around. It makes me sick. Why would you do that? This isn’t a playground. Just to remind you, Hunter, you are in therapy.”
“I asked you not to write down anything and you said you would write after our session. I set my boundary and you stepped over it.”
Exhaling, she shut her eyes.
“I set the boundaries here, not you, Hunter.”
“You’re wrong, Tiara Williams. I do.”
“It’s your fault I ruined my rug. I need to call, Xyla to get the cleaners. This place stinks now.”
“No! Leave Xyla out of this. No cleaners,” he insisted. “This is between you and me. Understood?”
First, the door knob came apart in his hand, now this? He did not want, Xyla asking stupid questions.
“The secret list of your assaults is getting longer. Therapy doesn’t work this way, Hunter. You’ve got to remain calm. When you feel the rage sweeping in, take in a deep breath, count to ten. It helps. I also recommend stress balls. You squeeze it when–”
“I know how stress balls works. Not my thing.”
Bending down, he wiped the stained rug vigorously with the towel. Intent on removing every trace of the vomit badge, he rushed to her bathroom, found some liquid detergent and air freshener. When he was done cleaning her mess, he washed his hands and wiped his fingers on a clean towel before he returned to check out her bookshelf.
“Excuse me.” She got on her feet with care.
“You need help?” he found himself asking.
“No. I need to use the bathroom. I’m fine.”
It took almost eight minutes before she showed up. In that period, he had a moment of self-reflection. After she made herself comfortable on her seat, from his vantage spot, he threw her a casual glance.
“Do you feel better, Tiara?”
“No, I don’t. Are you feeling remorseful?”
“Even though I find your profession a waste of my time, I don’t want to see you sick.”
“Oh. You’ve got a heart for sick women?”
“Don’t!”
Heat crept up his neck and he averted his gaze to flip through the books on the shelf.
“Do you know a woman who’s sick, Hunter?”
He gritted his teeth to stop from spitting out his truth. The truth that got his inside burning with fury.
“How long ago did you have the abortion, Tiara?”
He heard her gasp. Everyone had a sore spot. He had found Tiara’s and he could make her shut her mouth anytime, or so he thought.
“Is being callous part of your personality, Hunter?”
The second her words bombed his chest, he heard himself speaking his truth.
“The nightmares started years ago. But it became more regular after my penultimate assignment. It was supposed to be a clean operation. Extract a high value target and wipe off every trace we were there. Things went south when we got ambushed. Many died, including children. Men, I considered brothers lost their lives. It was my fault.”
Inside Tiara’s office, everything stood still for a long time. When the pin-drop silence haunted his soul, he clenched his fist and punched the shelf.
“I fucking messed up! That’s why I can’t sleep. People die when operations go south. I see blood dripping from my fingers. It’s gruesome. When any operation ends, all I want is to forget it happened.”
“Take a deep breath, Hunter,” he heard Tiara say through the chaotic images flashing through his head with rapid speed.
Suddenly, he was back in Russia, then Baghdad, Kuwait, Afghanistan... The never-ending ghastly images were relentless.
“What images do you see, Hunter?”
Staggering back, he covered his face with both hands and leaned against the wall for a brief minute. When the images receded, he stood erect and ground his teeth.
“A mix of good and gruesome images came to life.”
“Why do you think it’s your fault, Hunter?”
“Because I was the leader! I was a captain and I’d men under my command. Men who trusted me to have their backs. Don’t you get it?”
“So, it wasn’t because you did something wrong?”
“I know my job. That night, it all went to dust.”
“Was the intel wrong?”
“It wasn’t. The intel was compromised.”
“Was there a way you could’ve known the intel had been revealed?”
“Not at the time.”
“Why do you hold yourself personally accountable?”
“Because I didn’t protect the lives of those who mattered. I lost people, Tiara. Limbs were scattered everywhere. Their blood cried out for justice.”
“Did you find out the source that compromised your location?”
“Yeah.”
“And did you do something about it?”
“Sure. It had to be done.”
“What did you do?”
“What had to be done.”
“By that you mean you reported them to the authorities and they’re in prison?”
“Fill in the gaps. Why did you get rid of the baby?”
“I was stupid, scared and ashamed.”
Intrigued by her response, he swirled around to stare at her. He had expected her to either keep her mouth shut, or told him to go to hell. She did not avert her gaze. At that point, he knew he could trust her. She did not have to share her own vulnerable experience. But she did. That must have been hard.
“Did he rape you? Was that why you got rid of it?”
Personally, he was anti-abortion but he was also mindful of extenuating circumstances that could necessitate having one.
“No.”
“Do you regret losing your baby?”
“Yeah. For some time, I hated myself for doing it.”
“Did he tell you to do it?”
She did not dodge his direct stare.
“We both decided because we couldn’t support a baby at the time.”
“Do you have kids now?”
“No.”
“Married?”
“Not yet.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Yeah.”
His therapist’s expression when she answered that was deadpan, he could not tell if she was serious. He dragged air through his nostrils noisily.
“Hunter, are you in love with Erin?”
“No. But I’ll do anything for her. Anything.”
“Is Erin sick?”
He paced the office for a minute gathering his thoughts. “Can you explain why bad things happen to good people, Tiara?”
“Everyone gets their fair share of bad things in life. Good people aren’t exempted. Be there for those who suffer and help them, that’s all you can do.”
“Is that why you became a therapist?”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
“I needed therapy myself for a few reasons. It helped greatly, so I decided to pursue a career to help others.”
Folding his arms across his chest, he gazed at her.
“Is that why you tolerate my excesses? Because I don’t know any therapist who would accept what I’ve done to you.”
“Maybe. I’d a difficult time opening up when I first started therapy. I’m here to help you. I’m not the enemy.”
“I know that now. Did you love the guy?”
“Which guy?”
“Your baby daddy?”
“I think I still do in a way. He was my first love.”
An unseen tweezer clipped his chest. It felt like a death grip around his heart. He panted before asking.
“Why? He let you get rid of his baby.”
“Because love is a strong bond. Have you fallen in love before, Hunter?”
“Where’s he now?”
“New Jersey.”
At her response, his mouth set in a hard line.
“Does he know you still love him?”
“No. He’s got a new life with his wife and son. Have you loved before?”
“Not my thing.”
“Do you think you’re bad at staying in love?”
“That’s a good way to put it.”
“Why are you donating sperm to Erin?”
“Because she’s dying.”
As pain hit his head, he grasped one hardcover book and slammed it against the wall. He repeated the action with five other books, using more force so that the loud thud shook the room before he stopped.
“Breathe, Hunter. Count to ten in your head.”
For once, he did. He even counted to fifty.
“I can’t stop her from dying. Everyone dies, I get that. Why someone so good, someone so young? She’s got her whole life ahead of her.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Hunter. I really am. How old is Erin?”
“Thirty-eight.”
Standing by the window now, he peered out. The landscape was occupied with several rows of high-rise buildings, a clear blue sky and a charming view of Emeryville waterfront. Yet, someone might be committing a crime somewhere within the vicinity.
“What’s Erin’s diagnosis?”
“Cervical cancer stage 4.”
“How long does she have?”
“Six months at best.”
“So, Erin asked you to attend therapy before she can accept your sperm?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You must love her.”
“In my own way, I do.”
“How long have you two been dating?”
He curved his head around and glared at her.
“Did I say we were dating?” When she shrugged, he returned his eyes to the landscape. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Tiara Williams.”
The neighbourhood around Powell Street in East Bay was a safer zone than some. Tourists and people, he saw on the streets moved about as if they were not in a rush. That was what he liked most about living in Oakland, instead of in the popular big cities where everyone darted in and out as if their lives were on speed dial.
“Oh. Point noted. Have your nightmares become more frequent in recent times?”
“Perhaps.”
Her professionalism both elated and pissed him off.
“Do you think your nightmares are linked to your fear of losing Erin?”
“That’s for you to figure out, right? It’s your job.”
“Is it the same images every time?”
He studied her briefly. No matter the provocation, her face never gave away her thoughts. Tiara probably hated him by now. He would hate himself.
“Just flashes of bloody faces, dismembered parts, cries for help, that sort of thing.”
“How many times a week?”
“About four, or five times. Maybe more.”
“How frequent was it in the past?”
“About twice.” Was it? He was not sure anymore.
“Are you on any medication?”
“No. Don’t prescribe any. They do more harm than good. I’ve got a phobia for drugs and injections.”
“I don’t intend to, Hunter. My job doesn’t extend to prescribing meds. As long as you’re willing to talk about every face you see, and every bloody scenario, you’ll make progress. What do you want to achieve as your therapy goals?”
“I’m fucking angry! That’s what this is. Rage. And, I want you to figure out how to stop the nightmares.”
“Okay. We can work on getting your anger under control for a start and also get to the bottom of why you’ve got recurring nightmares.”
“You think?”
“Why are you so angry?”
“Look, many of the wars and assignments are politically motivated and unnecessary. They use us as pawns in life’s game of chess. There are people like Erin who will die no matter what and these politicians don’t care about anyone but themselves!”
“Are you angry at the politicians, or the military?”
“They’re the same. One is just as bad as the other.”
“When did you retire from active service?”
“Four years ago.”
“Thank you for your service to our nation.”
“Fuck you! No one cares about our bloody service.”
His therapist did not flinch, or back down at his cruel tone, or foul language. Most women took offence and yelled at him to tender a heart-felt apology. She clearly did not take his cuss words personally.
“Yet, you’re still in the security business. Why didn’t you change career if you’re so enraged?”
“Securing lives and properties is what I do best.”
“Why the rage even after you’ve retired?”
“Many lives have been wasted unnecessarily. Every time there’s a war or an operation, more often than not, there are collateral damages. Those are the faces that haunt you.”
Lifting her shoulders in a casual shrug, she gave him a terse gaze. “I’m not haunted.”
He blinked back his next words. “I’m haunted. The crooked politicians aren’t spooked.”
“Who do you hold responsible for Erin’s ill health?”
“Who do you think?”
“I’ve got no idea, Hunter.”
“Isn’t there a God up there, somewhere who should fix her? Erin believes in God, but he doesn’t listen to my plea for help on her behalf. I know I’m not a good person, I’ve done things I regret, things I can’t put in words. But Erin has done nothing wrong to deserve a painful end. People die needlessly every day.”
“No one is meant to be immortal, Hunter. And we all do things wrong every day.”
“But we can live a long life.”
“There are no guarantees. Do you believe in God?”
“I’ve never been religious. I didn’t get baptized, or go to church, or pray like you black folks do if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I asked what you believe in? Do you believe in God who created the universe?”
“I know there’s someone who controls the universe, right? But do I know anything about him, or ask him to be with me, or anything like that? No.”
“Let me rephrase. Do you think God will listen when you talk to him?”
“In reality, I think he’s probably busy keeping an eye on the good folks. People like me have to find their own way out of the dark and damaged hole.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if he’s waiting for you to call on him with your whole heart, just waiting for you to look his way, to ask him for help to pull you out of the dark and damaged hole?”
“Are you saying irrespective of my beliefs and my messed-up life, he’ll look my way?”
Hopelessness was always lurking around. Always. And ultimately, he hated the reality he felt stranded.
“In my line of work, God isn’t talked about much. But I’ve seen what he can do when people trust in him. Not just folks who are baptized, or go to church but those who cry to him, call on him and ask him for help. He hears and he answers in ways we might not even understand sometimes.”
Erin had told him the same thing over the years, but he had sealed his ears with concrete. At the moment, he felt the concrete wall vibrating, breaking up.
“Did he help you? I thought you said therapy helped?” Doubt crept along again like it often did.
“Therapy helped me work through my issues but the peace and healing in my heart came from the big man himself who sits upstairs.”
Swallowing, he leaned against the window.
“Hunter, is there any face you see that you’re deliberately responsible for?”
“I’m not a killing machine, Tiara if that’s what you’re asking. I do as I’m told. I don’t ask questions.”
“But you’re willing to solely take the fall for the lives lost when you were the leader of the operations?”
“Yeah. It was my fault.”
“What if it’s not your fault?”
Exhaling, he shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“I assume you always got instructions from your superiors. Did you follow the orders accordingly?”
“Yeah! I always followed the orders.”
“Now that, was your responsibility. That was what you signed up to do–follow orders. When you did that and things went wrong, why did you still blame yourself, especially when the intel was compromised through no fault of yours?”
“We were infiltrated. One of my men was a double agent. He leaked our location.”
“How would you have known he was a spy?”
“I trusted the guys with my life as they trusted me. But I should’ve been more vigilant and less trusting.”
“Do you think you can control everyone’s actions?”
He paused. In that interval, he thought about all his team buddies in the various teams he had worked with during his entire career.
After a while, he shook his head.
“I like to think, I influenced people positively to do the right thing.”
“You can influence but you’re not personally responsible for other people’s actions, or inactions.”
It took him a long time to process what she said. Throughout his career, he had told himself he was personally accountable for everyone he worked with especially when he had been designated head of special ops. Suddenly, he felt a huge weight drop off his shoulders. He even heard the thud in his head.
Breathing hard, he brushed his palms up and down his face and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Is this session done?” His voice sounded gruff.
“It was done thirty-five minutes ago.”
“I’ll pay for your time.” He dashed to her table and grabbed her brown hair tie lying next to her laptop.
“That’s my hair tie!”
“I need to borrow it for some time.”
“What for?” At his closed expression, she waved one hand. “Fine. Your next appointment is next week.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Take note of the nightmares–”
Marching to her side, he ended Tiara’s words abruptly by hauling her to her feet. Before any words escaped from her parted purple glossy lips, he engaged her mouth with his own. With one hand, he pinned her tits against his chest and nudged his knee across her thighs. He swallowed the words of protests on the edge of her tongue. With her lush lips pliant and moist beneath his own, he forgot about all the promises he made to himself before he arrived at his therapist’s office. Legally, she was forbidden to him.
Damn the code of ethics!
His entire body erupted with desire long repressed. Whatever her hands did to his body drew him deeper into the black road going nowhere. Burning with crazy heat in his body and soul, he swept his tongue further inside her mouth instead of running away from her hypnotic trap.
Moaning harshly, Tiara wrenched her mouth from his own and staggered backward. She put up one hand in front of her cleavage as she tried to even out her shallowing breathing.
“What have you done, Hunter?”
“Don’t say a word, Tiara. This never happened.”
“Get out, Hunter!”
“You’re driving me out of my mind, Tiara. And I’m going to take you with me to wherever.”
“I’m going to steal your peace of mind as you’ve stolen mine, Hunter.”
“Confess the truth. Are you manipulating my mind? I seem to have lost it to you.”
Feeling strange for the first time in a long time, he headed toward the door, got out of there as fast as his legs would go. Sweat dripped down his spine and his throat felt clogged. He felt his face burn with an emotion he had not experienced in a long while. Booing himself for letting his control slip, he rolled her hair tie onto his left wrist.
What the hell was going on with him? What had Tiara done to him?
