“No.” She stepped into the room, her presence a calm counterpoint to the storm raging between us. “You need to hear what she’s saying.”
“I hear her just fine,” Gunner snapped. “I hear her saying she’d rather die in New York than live in Nebraska. I hear her throwing her life away for a man who’s already gone.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” I wiped at my tears, frustration and grief warring in my chest. “I’m saying I need to stay. I need to see this through. Whatever ‘this’ is.”
“See what through?” Michael demanded. “What exactly are you planning to do? Storm the IRA headquarters? Convince Rowen to give up everything he just sacrificed for you? What’s your endgame here, Mel?”
“I don’t have one.” My admission felt like defeat and defiance all at once. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I just know I can’t leave. Not while he’s still here. Not while there’s still a chance.”
“A chance for what?” Gunner’s voice was gentler now, but no less insistent. “A chance for him to change his mind? To walk away from the Mob? To come back to you?”
“Maybe.” I met his gaze, refusing to look away. “Or maybe just a chance to tell him he doesn’t have to do this alone. That I’m still here. That I’m not going anywhere.”
Gunner closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything unsaid. When he opened them again, they were bright with unshed tears.
“I can’t protect you if you stay here,” he said, his voice rough. “I can’t keep you safe from this world. From these people. From the choices you’re making.”
“I know.”
“You could die, Melissa. You understand that, right? You could actually die.”
“I know,” I repeated, softer this time. “But I could also die in Nebraska. In a car accident. From cancer. From a million different things I can’t control. Grace was taken in Nebraska.” My brother’s head snapped back as though I’d hit him. “At least here, I’m choosing. I’m deciding what I’m willing to risk and what I’m not.”
“And you’re willing to risk everything.” It wasn’t a question.
“For him?” I thought about Rowen’s letter, the one I’d read over and over until the paper had grown soft and worn at the creases. I thought about the house he’d bought me without asking, without hesitation, as if my happiness was the only thing that mattered in this world. I thought about the way he’d looked at me in his office that day, his eyes dark and intense, when he’d called me his pet, his equal, his everything. Those words had carved themselves into my heart, permanent and undeniable. “Yes. I’m willing to risk everything for him. My reputation, my safety, my future... all of it.”
Gunner turned away, his hand coming up to cover his face. I could see his shoulders shaking, could hear the ragged breath he tried to hide.
Haizley moved to his side, her hand resting on his back. She looked at me over her shoulder, her expression understanding in a way that made my throat tight.
“She’s not a little girl anymore, Gunner,” Haizley said quietly. “She’s a woman who’s survived things most people can’t even imagine. You can’t save her this time. You have to let her make her own choices. Even the ones that scare you.”
“Especially the ones that scare me,” I added, my voice barely above a whisper.
Gunner turned back to face me, and the look in his eyes was pure anguish. “I’m your brother. I’m supposed to protect you. That’s my job. That’s what I do.”
“I know.” I crossed the space between us, wrapping my arms around him. He held me tight, as if he were afraid I’d disappear if he let go. “And like Rowen, you also walked away to protect me, but here we are years later, together. Rowen is worth waiting for.”
“Then wait in Nebraska,” my brother pleaded.
I shook my head. “I need to be here.”
“I hate this,” he muttered into my hair. “I hate everything about this.”
“I know,” I said again, because what else was there to say?
We stood there for a long moment, holding each other the way we had when we were kids and the world felt too big and too scary, and the only safe place was in each other’s arms.
Finally, Gunner pulled back, his hands gripping my shoulders as he looked down at me. “If you’re staying, you need to be smart about it. You need to be careful.”
“I will.”
“And you need to stay in touch. Every day. I don’t care if it’s just a text. I need to know you’re alive.”
“Okay.”
“And if things go south, if you’re in danger, if you need help, if anything happens, you call me. Immediately. You understand?”
