Hunter

Ryan

Hunter

I'm not sure what happened, but Mason stop treating me like a random house guest that stops by for a visit. He would sit and talk to Cole and me instead of only to Cole. He even sat and watched movies with us. I still had my doubts about this little arrangement.

I came downstairs to voices and stopped when I noticed a man, a woman, and two kids with Mason.

Mason spotted me. "Hunter, come and meet my brother Charles, sister-in-law Maggie, and their children, Ryan and Elena."

I walked down the steps and strode toward them.

"This is Hunter Michaels. Luci and I adopted him," Mason mentioned.

"Oh? Charles didn't mention you had adopted a child," Maggie said, glancing at Charles.

"I haven't had a chance," Charles replied.

Uh, huh? Sure. You showed up at my makeshift campsite, you dick.

"Oh, then, welcome to the family, dear." Maggie extended her hand to me.

I took it and shook it. Then I noticed the kids staring at me. "Can I help you?"

"Not really," Ryan said with a shrug.

I arched my brow.

"Ignore, Ryan. He's acting stupid," Elena said.

"Elena Margaret!" Maggie admonished.

Elena leaned her head back and looked up at her mom. "What?"

Maggie shook her head. "Excuse our children. They forgot their manners."

"Whatever," I said.

"Is that all you can say?" A voice asked.

My eyes darted between everyone until they landed on Ryan. "Excuse me?"

"Whatever is a word which means you don't care, or you're telling someone to go fuck themselves."

My eyes widened.

"Ryan Matthew Jones!" Maggie exclaimed.

Ryan looked at Maggie. "Then he should answer properly and not in one-word sentences like a caveman."

Who was this kid?

I turned on my heels and walked away before I hit something like Ryan. I doubt Mason would approve of me beating his nephew.

I found myself in the training facility. I flipped the light switch up, illuminating the training facility. Then I grabbed a pair of boxing gloves, pulled them on, and wailed on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

I swung and landed a fist into the bag. With each hit, I changed how I swung. I ducked from side to side and slammed my fist into the bag. After unleashing my aggression on the bag, I took a break.

"Where did you learn to hit like that?" A voice asked.

I glanced at Ryan standing in the training facility. "I had to learn to fight so people wouldn't hurt me." I shrugged.

Ryan walked toward me. "Can you show me?"

"Why? It's not like you need to fight with your comfortable home life."

"I don't want people to mess with me. The kids at school are jerks."

I walked to the fridge, grabbed a water bottle, and took a swig. "Do the kids at school mess with you?"

Ryan nodded. "They call me names and mess with me because I get good grades."

"Most people are assholes."