“What’reyoudoinghere?” It comes out as one long word, and it’s all the confirmation I need.
That’s my daughter.
36
GABE
AUGUST PRESENT DAY
Why is all the Jack gone? I toss the empty bottle in the trash before picking up the Jim Beam beside the kitchen sink.
Also, empty.
There’s no way I drank that much.
I open all the cabinets, scanning the contents before slamming them shut when I come up short. Groaning, I rub my hands down my face, then slide to the floor.
Fuck me.
I sniff, then wrinkle my nose.
More booze, or a shower?
Really, it should probably be both. I don’t know how many days it’s been since I did. I’ve just been locked up here, drinking my rage away. No shower needed for that.
But the crushing pain that wracks my sober body is unbearable, so more booze is a necessity.
After a quick shower, I grab my keys and head out for task number two.
I’m coming out of the gas station when I run smack into Ash.
“Oh,” she says, stumbling back, her phone still in her hand. Her wide eyes lift to mine. “Gabriel?—”
Fuck me. Why is she here?The universe must really have it out for me because I’m nowhere near ready for this shit.
She’s looking at me with puppy-dog eyes, and I hate it.
I’m not doing this today.
With my head down, I brush past her, moving as quickly as I can to my truck.
“Gabriel, please.”
Keep going.
“Please, stop!”
Those words bring me to a halt. We’ve done this before. I walk away; she chases me down. It all ends the same, doesn’t it?
A few days ago, I thought we were meant to be. But I had it all wrong. All we’re good at is hurting each other.
She grabs my arm. I don’t turn, just look down at her fingers on my bare forearm.
“Gabriel. I’m sorry?—”
“So, it’s true?” I ask, clenching my jaw.
“What?”
