Spider-Man: Kraven's Last Hunt Prose Novel (Spider-Man (Marvel)) by Nick Kleid

Author:Nick Kleid
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781302489519
Publisher: Marvel
Published: 2014-10-20T16:00:00+00:00

SIX

MARY JANE sat in her apartment, flipping through the channels, too tired to go out but too anxious to sit still. The rain kept coming: clouds, like her mood, black and bleak. She ran her hands through photos and clothes again, wiping tears from her eyes. Exhausted, beaten down by the weight of her decisions, she threw the remote control across the room with a burst of pain and frustration. It sailed toward the wall, heading for a French print she’d acquired in her days on the Parisian catwalks. But before it could strike the frame—

—a strand of webbing reached out and snagged it, swinging it toward the window, where it landed with a meaty clap into the palm of a dirty, red glove. MJ sat up warily, afraid to depend on what her eyes were seeing. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the vision of spandex and mud crouching low in her windowsill, clutching the remote control.

“I…I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you,” he said. The voice was hoarse and strained, but definitely familiar. “Waiting and wondering…knowing there was someone…a lunatic out there calling himself Spider-Man. A…a killer.”

He dropped into the apartment, soaking her floor. She backed away, hopeful but still unsure.

“I know you,” he said. “You read the papers…watched the news. You probably walked the streets looking for me.” He ran a hand across his chin, dislodging dirt. “I…I pray to god you didn’t find me. I mean, him. Kraven.”

He moved toward her, holding out a hand. Tears came coursing down her cheeks. She touched her fingers to her eyes and felt her hands shake with nerves and fear; she moved them back to her lap.

“Two weeks, Mary Jane. Two weeks of my life.” He crouched on the floor, still holding out his hands. “Two weeks of our life…our life together…stolen from us and tainted. Defiled, and, and…”

Slowly, carefully, he peeled away the mask. MJ’s heart leapt into her throat; a small sob of relief escaped, and she started to cry once more, tears of joy mixed with tears of sadness. He stretched out his hand, and this time she took it. His eyes were wide and tired, his faced caked with dirt and sweat. He seemed haunted, hunted. Mary Jane’s heart opened wide.

“I…” he swallowed deeply, his throat still dry. “I love you, Mary Jane.” He closed his fingers on her own. “More than I ever realized.”

“Peter…?”

She pulled him to her, cupping the back of his head in one hand and reaching for his face with the other. He moved up and onto the bed, listening to her rapidly beating heart, feeling its warmth and its steady, welcoming call. Rain spattered against the windows.

Peter Parker rested his head on Mary Jane Watson’s shoulders, quietly breaking down into tears of relief as she held him close and hugged him tight. He pulled away, staring into her wet, wide eyes for a long moment. Then, again, they came together, clutching one another, afraid to let go.

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