“She’s exaggerating,” Gia whispers as she twirls a loose strand around her fingers. “I was scared you would reject me because I broke things off with you.”
I smile inwardly at her answer. “What time do you get off? I’ll take you home after your shift is over so we can talk.”
I’m not giving her an option to say no.
“I get off at seven.”
* * *
Gia
He shows up at seven on the dot and sits at a round white table as he watches me make cupcakes and take customers’ orders. I get off at eight, but honestly, I didn’t expect him to show on time. If you’re going to plan anything with Gunner, you have to lie to him about the time because he’ll show up late. When we used to go on dates, especially when we’d go to the movies, I’d tell him to show up an hour earlier than the actual time.
After I lock the door to my new business, I slide in the passenger seat of his Audi. Leather and cinnamon invade my nostrils but not the scent of whiskey. I missed him so much I want to cry. He looks sexier; my ovaries are on fire and my nipples are already hard against the fabric. He doesn’t have bags under his eyes and something about his demeanor is different—he isn’t angry, but cool as a peppermint candy. He actually combed his auburn hair to the side and the beard he grew in rehab is neat. Nervousness and excitement dance in the pit of my stomach and my heart is jumping for joy. My heart and I have our moments and we’re getting along, but she gets too out of control when Wolf is around.
“Make a left here,” I say, pointing in the direction. I live less than three minutes from the shop, so I walk to work listening to music. I love my new area in Brooklyn and will often spend time walking around taking pictures of the landscape.
I open the door to an empty apartment. Izzy went to visit her parents in Maine. I take off my lavender coat and toss it on the couch. He looks around the apartment and back at me. I move into the kitchen and grab us each a can of Coke from the vintage fridge.
Everything about us is different.
Play it cool, Gia.
Don’t mess this up, but more importantly, don’t have your guard up.
As I gather myself together, I walk back to the living room. He’s perched on the couch. I hand him the Coke, but he grabs both cans and places them on the coffee table.
Suddenly, my dumb heart beats freely and my palms are sweating.
“I need to get something off my chest.”
My eyes grow wide, and I stare at him, waiting for him to spit it out.
“I shot my dad in the head by accident.” His words are jagged as broken glass.
I cover my mouth as I gasp in horror. Gunner radiates so much grief and sorrow it chills me to my bones. He tells me how he met Cora and Rylee and Cora told him about the abuse.
“I confronted him in his basement about what he did to Rylee and told him how much of a piece of shit he was. He was drunk as usual. I threatened to kill him.” Gunner pauses, his eyes move rapidly, and pain etches his face. “I threatened to kill him if he put his hands on Rylee again. So he got out the revolver and told me to be a man. He aimed the gun at his forehead and grabbed my hand and said, ‘Be a man and pull the trigger. Put me out of my goddamn misery.’ And he squeezed my fingers on the trigger.”
Gunner runs his fingers through his hair and aims his head up at the ceiling fan, then he looks at me and I entwine my fingers with his and squeeze. “That’s when my ears rang. It happened so fast. I was in shock so I didn’t realize what had happened. I called Logan and told him everything while I stood there. He told me to wipe the gun clean and place his fingers on the trigger. So I did what he said.
“When I heard footsteps, I jumped out the window and hid behind a tree. Rylee came into the room, screaming at the top of her lungs. The next-door neighbor came running to her house. I watched as both of them called the police, then I got out of there and ran three blocks and I called Logan to pick me up and he drove me to his house. He burned all my bloody clothes and told me to wash myself three times. He asked me if I was sure there weren’t any witnesses. When I nodded my head, we made a pact not to speak about that night. Logan told me that he didn’t want to risk me going to prison for a crime I didn’t do. If they found gun residue on me and if they couldn’t prove that it was an accident, they would pin it on me.” Even when he’s tormented, he’s so gorgeous, he looks like a tragic Greek god that’s about to unleash his wrath.
I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and kiss his cheek. “That’s why you have PTSD.”
He nods.
“I’m sorry, Gunner, that you had to witness that. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.” My heart bleeds for him.
“I’m taking my therapy sessions seriously now, and I’m on a low dosage of Prozac. I have a sponsor I meet with on Mondays, and I go to AA meetings regularly.”
“Good. I’m happy for you,” I say, rubbing his back. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Do you forgive me for choosing the bottle over you?” His azure eyes match my whiskey-colored eyes.
“Of course,” I say. “I forgave you before you even asked.”
He smiles at my words as he strokes my cheek and I lean in; I missed his touch.
