Hunter's Need Read Online Free PDF

ramrod straight, shoulders back. There was something regal, something proud and confident about him in that moment.
    “Ana!”
    Glancing away, she looked across the street and saw Darlene Eluska, a coworker, glaring at her. Darlene glanced at the homeless man and then back at Ana, censure in her gaze.
    Sheepishly, Ana shrugged. Then she looked back at the man, he was already turned, shuffling down the street with his head down and his shoulders slumped.
    “Man, I can’t believe you,” Darlene said as Ana crossed the street. Together, they walked the block to their work. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t go giving them all money. Most of them aren’t homeless or even all that desperate.”
    Unwittingly, Ana glanced across the street. The old man was lost to sight now, but the sadness in his eyes, the despair she sensed hanging on him. “Oh, he was desperate, all right.”
    Darlene rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point—you go handing out money left and right, you’ll be the one who is desperate.”
    “I think I can manage without the few dollars I had on me, Darlene. He looks like he needs it more than I do.”
    Darlene shook her head. “You either don’t get it—or you don’t care.” Then she sighed and pushed her dense black hair back from her face. Her round face softened with a smile as she craned her head and peered back down Fifth Avenue. “But you’re right about that guy . . . he does need it more than you do. Money won’t do him much good, though. Nothing’s going to help him.”
    Something about her tone caught Ana’s attention. “You sound like you know him.”
    “Nah. Not directly. But he’s kind of a local legend. His name’s Paul Beasley— I think. He’s been around here since before I was born. Served in the air force, lived over at the base. Met this girl, fell in love with her—then she disappeared.”
    “Disappeared . . . ?”
    Darlene nodded. “Yeah. Some of her friends tried to say he killed her, but nobody was ever able to prove it and they couldn’t do anything. He . . . well, he kind of went crazy. Ended up getting discharged. I heard they shipped him back home, somewhere down in the Lower 48, but he made his way back up here again.” She shrugged. “I don’t know all of it, but he’s been around for as long as I can remember. It’s kind of sad.”
     
     
    S EEING him became a regular occurrence, and it wasn’t one Ana was too happy with. Most of the time she only saw him from afar, the back of his head as he ducked into an alley, or that sad smile on his face as somebody pushed some money in his hand. But even those few, distant glimpses stuck with her.
    As summer bled into fall and the nights got drastically shorter, it got to where she saw him usually twice a week. He rarely came in close contact with her, although there were times when she knew he saw her watching for him. It would earn her one of those sad, sweet smiles and then before she could decide whether to approach or not, he’d slip away.
    Today, though, he was waiting outside the café where she’d gone to grab some tea and a scone. She’d planned on killing time at the mall, but as she caught sight of him, she lost interest in window shopping.
    He stood there, staring into the window with a far-off look in his eyes.
    “Hey.”
    At first, she didn’t think he’d heard her. Then he glanced toward her, his eyes disinterested. He sighed and lifted a thin, dirty hand to the window, his fingers hovering just above the glass as though he was afraid to touch. “Marie likes pretty things.”
    Marie?
    Ana glanced into the shop and then back at him. “Who’s Marie?”
    As soon as she asked, though, she could have kicked herself. Tears flooded his eyes and he started to cry. Ugly, wracking sobs that caught the attention of everybody around them. Her skin crawled as people looked from her to the crying man, then back. Attention—damn it, she hated having people looking at