‘You just have to swoop in, don’t you? Be the big hero? When at night you’re still a scared little boy. Well, why don’t you just fuck off, Walker? Fuck off and sort yourself out.’
She saw the impact of her words hit his face. Shock turned to hurt, and then he closed himself completely, his face blank. A stab of guilt at what she’d said only made her angrier and suddenly she couldn’t look at him any longer. She turned and limped away.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Walker
The sky was black and spotted with stars outside Walker’s bedroom window. He watched through tired, scratched eyes as dawn lightened it to a deep navy, then a cold purplish haze. He hadn’t slept a wink.
He could still feel the fury in the slam of Gabi’s hands against his chest, see the look of outrage on her face as he told her what he thought of her behaviour. He’d seen the anger change, flash through hurt and end on spite as she told him exactly what she thought of him in return. Turned out he’d been right all along. He turned in the bed and pounded his pillow into a different shape.
He’d been having a good night until Gabi got up to her tricks on that ridiculous rodeo bull. Betsy from the fire station had been keeping him company. She was on good form, telling him funny stories about her boyfriend who was trying, and failing, to be a stand-up comedian. More of a lie-down comedian, as Betsy called him. He’d had a couple of beers with Alex, who was trying to keep his mind off Amber, and they’d been waiting for Fox to finish with the corporate schmooze to come and have a drink. All was going well, until he saw Gabi, wearing hot pants and waving a cowboy hat on the back of a bucking bronco. His first thought had been how hot she looked, head thrown back, arm in the air, riding that thing like her life depended on it. His second thought had been astonishment that she’d be so stupid, and then his feet had been walking towards her before his head got a chance to stop him.
Fatboy Jim sprang neatly onto the pillow and butted him softly, head-to-head. Walker closed his eyes and listened to Jim’s purr, thinking maybe that would calm him, soothe him to sleep. He was so very, very tired. He felt himself slipping, sliding softly into the dark. Then he jolted awake as he remembered the fury and contempt on Gabi’s face outside The Bolthole.
He turned his pillow over to get a cold side. Saw the lights of the first plane of the day cross the sky in the dawn. Wondered briefly where it was heading, and whether he’d be able to sleep if he went there.
The truth hit him like a dumper truck and he shot up in bed. Gabi was right. He wouldn’t be able to sleep wherever he was, because he turned into a scared little boy at night. And it had got so bad that he was too terrified to close his eyes.
He threw the covers back, knocking over a glass of water on the bedside table. Fatboy Jim shot off the bed in disgust as Walker pulled on clothes.
The fact was, Walker was scared of so many things. Messing things up. Letting people down. Doing the wrong thing. Not making the right decision. People getting hurt or dying on his watch.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he pulled a hoodie over his head. His eyes were dark and blank. His teeth were gritted so tight his jaw hurt. He looked haunted. He ran his hands through his hair. He couldn’t live like this any more.
He picked up his car keys and ran out of the house. He knew he was driving too fast as he pushed the accelerator to the floor, but he couldn’t stop. Anything was better than living like this.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Gabi
The smell of the apple crumble, freshly baked and still warm, packaged in her bag was making Gabi’s mouth water as she swung her way along the pavement to Rosie’s house the next day. But she figured, if she was going to eat humble pie, it might as well be a tasty one.
She’d woken that morning with Walker’s face imprinted on her eyelids and a very bad hangover. This was precisely why she didn’t normally drink very much. She’d been up a full five minutes swearing about him to Amber in the kitchen before she conceded that riding a rodeo with an injured leg was probably not her smartest move of all time. But that did not–did not– give him the right to tell her she couldn’t form relationships– again. She must be able to, because she felt a twinge of guilt every time she thought of what she’d said to Rosie and knew he was right–goddammit– she’d have to apologise. She’d begged Amber for a recipe, an easy one as she didn’t normally bake, swallowed some painkillers and got to work.
She didn’t really cook at all. Usually it was fully catered on set, and she’d order takeaways if she was at home. There wasn’t much point in cooking for one; it always felt a bit sad. She’d felt a prick of pride when she pulled the crumble from the oven and Jayden gave her a thumbs up.
Wren answered the door, looking mildly green and massively pissed off when she saw who it was on the step. Great, so Rosie had really taken her words to heart and shared them with Wren.
After a stiff greeting, Wren walked her through the house to the kitchen at the back, where Rosie was sitting at the island reading a book, oversized glasses propped right on the end of her nose. She peered at Gabi before carefully marking her place with a bookmark and closing her book.
‘Rosie, I’m so sorry for what I said about Toby.’ Gabi held out the cake tin and came straight on out with it. No point hanging about. ‘I was a dick.’ Rosie considered her for a moment and then nodded.
‘I have no experience of dicks,’ she said with a smile, ‘but that smells a whole lot like pie.’
Gabi was taken aback when Rosie stood up, wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close for a hug. Just like that, she was forgiven. She breathed Rosie in and some of her tension fell away.
‘Where’s Riley?’ Gabi asked as Rosie cut slices of crumble and pulled out cream from the fridge. ‘Is she any better?’
‘At her dad’s,’ Rosie replied. ‘He took the day off work and came and collected her this morning. He said he could have a sofa day with her.’
Gabi dropped her head, embarrassed.
‘I really am sorry,’ she said. ‘Toby sounds like a great dad.’
‘He is.’ Rosie grinned.
‘You’re very lucky,’ Gabi said and was surprised to feel tears suddenly fill her eyes, and then roll down her cheeks, and for the second time in two minutes she was enfolded in Rosie’s home-knitted cardigan.
