CHARACTER

Marcus Hunt

Quick Facts

  • Role: Correctional officer in the medical unit at Raker Maximum Security Penitentiary; emerging secondary antagonist
  • First appearance: Chapter 3 (Brooke’s first day in the infirmary)
  • Alias: Mark Hunt, the high school victim of Shane’s violence (revealed later)
  • Key relationships: Shane Nelson (target of vendetta), Brooke Sullivan (object of leverage and coercion), Josh Sullivan (used as blackmail leverage)
  • Core themes: Vengeance and Justice, The Past Haunting the Present

Physical Snapshot A tall, intimidating officer in a crisp blue uniform, Hunt’s shaved head and stubble amplify his severity. The physical impression he makes mirrors his approach to power—clean, controlled, and meant to unsettle.

Hunt is tall, and while he’s not exactly broad, he looks strong under his blue guard’s uniform. He’s maybe in his early thirties with a shaved skull and a few days’ growth of a beard on his chin. (Chapter 3)

Who They Are Bold and tightly wound, Marcus Hunt first reads as the quintessential by‑the‑book guard—unsmiling, exacting, and intolerant of error. As his history with Shane surfaces, that façade hardens into a personal campaign of retribution. Hunt becomes the story’s embodiment of vengeance gone rogue: a former victim reshaping institutional power into a private weapon. Through him, the novel explores how justice corrodes when it’s driven by grievance rather than principle, and how the past refuses to stay buried, shaping the cruelties of the present.

Personality & Traits Hunt’s personality is a study in control: of himself, his environment, and others. Professional rules give him cover; personal grudges give him purpose. His authority is real, but his defining feature is the way he repurposes that authority to settle an old score.

  • Authoritative and stern: From Brooke’s first day, he corrects and chastises—scolding her for high heels and laying down protocols with a flat affect. He’s the institutional voice of the prison, and he wants everyone to feel it.
  • Vindictive and cruel: His treatment of Shane is gratuitously harsh—unnecessary shackling, rough handling, and engineered “accidents” (Chapter 8; Chapter 16). The cruelty is targeted, not procedural, exposing the personal grievance under the uniform.
  • Manipulative: A natural practitioner of Manipulation and Control, he tries to barter “protection” into a date (Chapter 19) and later escalates to blackmail over Josh’s paternity (Chapter 32). He frames coercion as concern, making compliance feel like the safer choice.
  • Deceptive: By hiding that he is Mark Hunt—the kid Shane brutalized in high school—he turns a professional role into a perfect disguise (Chapter 30). His secrecy isn’t just about anonymity; it’s about legitimizing revenge as policy.
  • Weaponizes the system: Hunt uses isolation, transport restraints, and medical escorts as instruments of punishment. The line between procedure and persecution blurs whenever Shane is involved.

Character Journey Hunt’s arc moves from rigid functionary to avenging operator. Early encounters present him as a cold enforcer of rules, particularly with Brooke. Subtle signals—his fixation on Shane, the way he overuses restraints—hint at a deeper animus that outgrows policy. The yearbook reveal (Chapter 30) reframes everything: the man in uniform is the teenager once beaten by Shane. From that moment, his choices snap into focus—the “accident,” the threats, the relentless pressure. He ends the arc not as a guardian of order, but as its distortion: a man who has allowed an old wound to dictate his ethics, culminating in blackmail that collapses any pretense of professional duty.

Key Relationships Shane Nelson Hunt’s relationship with Shane is the engine of his character: victim turned oppressor. With the power dynamic reversed, Hunt exacts calculated, intimate punishments—each procedure exaggerated into pain, each escort an opportunity for degradation. What began as a scar becomes his moral compass, pointing always toward payback.

Brooke Sullivan With Brooke, Hunt toggles between attraction and coercion. When she shows sympathy for Shane, he reclassifies her as a problem to manage—first through flattery and favors, then through leverage and fear. Brooke becomes both a pawn in his feud with Shane and proof of how easily institutional authority can target the vulnerable.

Josh Sullivan Josh is never more than a name to Hunt; that’s precisely the point. He instrumentalizes the boy’s paternity as a pressure point, revealing how far he’ll go to preserve his revenge narrative—and how hollow his talk of “protection” really is.

Defining Moments Hunt’s key scenes chart his drift from stern officer to personal persecutor. Each moment exposes a new layer of intention—and a new misuse of power.

  • First escort of Shane (Chapter 8): He brings a shackled Shane to the infirmary with overt hostility. Why it matters: establishes that his aggression exceeds policy, signaling a vendetta.
  • The “accident” (Chapter 16): Hunt causes Shane to fall and hit his head while leaving the exam room. Why it matters: converts resentment into physical harm, crossing from intimidation into assault.
  • Parking lot confrontation (Chapter 19): He corners Brooke, flaunting knowledge of her past and angling for a drink. Why it matters: shifts the threat from the clinical space to Brooke’s personal life; manipulation now follows her home.
  • Yearbook discovery (Chapter 30): Brooke uncovers his identity as Mark Hunt. Why it matters: retrofits every prior interaction with meaning; the guard’s cruelty is revealed as a long-planned reckoning.
  • Blackmail reveal (Chapter 32): He admits the truth and weaponizes Josh’s paternity. Why it matters: the mask drops—justice is irrelevant, control is the goal.

Essential Quotes

“Hurry up, you piece of shit,” Hunt spits out at him. (Chapter 10) This line strips away any pretense of professional detachment. The insult is not just dehumanizing; it’s efficient shorthand for Hunt’s worldview—Shane is an object to be moved, not a person to be guarded, making later violence feel inevitable.

“This is different. Nelson is different. He’s… he’s really manipulative.” (Chapter 19) Hunt reframes Shane as uniquely dangerous to justify special treatment. The hesitation (“he’s… he’s”) betrays both personal investment and a need to rationalize his escalating hostility as prudence rather than spite.

“I could make him really pay for what he tried to do to you. Nobody on the outside gives a shit about him. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. I could throw him in isolation for weeks—or months. I could have him beaten up so badly, he won’t be able to walk anymore. Just you say the word.” (Chapter 32) Here, protection is a sales pitch for cruelty. Hunt offers Brooke the tools of the prison as gifts, revealing his comfort with extrajudicial punishment and his belief that dehumanization is not just permissible but desirable when it serves his ends.

“Don’t worry, Brooke,” he says. “Your secrets are safe with me. But you better be a little nicer to me. For starters, from now on, you can bring coffee to me every morning.” (Chapter 32) The faux reassurance (“your secrets are safe”) recasts blackmail as benevolence. By demanding small, daily compliance (coffee), Hunt makes domination routine—an everyday ritual that reminds Brooke whose power governs her safety.