“She left because you beat and raped her.” I shove him, and he stumbles backward.
“You can’t rape someone who belongs to you. Gia was my property.” He grinds his molars as he shoves me, and I take a few steps back, balling my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.
“That stupid bitch. I used my inheritance money to put a roof over her head, clothes on her back and food in her belly. What does she fucking do? Fall in love with another man.” He pauses for a beat. “She didn’t know that I put a tracker on her phone and that’s how I knew she went to your graduation party. Later that night, she came home looking like a tramp and reeking of alcohol. And do you know what she said when I asked her where she’d been, just to see how loyal she was?” He pauses, balling up his fists. “She lied and told me that she went to play board games with her whorish-ass friend Izzy. When I told her that I tracked her phone she finally admitted that she went to a party. I asked her if she went to see you or look for you. She twirled her hair and denied it. That’s her tell when she’s fucking lying. Dumb bitch.”
I don’t remember Gia ever coming to that party, but then again so many people were there, and I got so drunk I wouldn’t know who showed up. I glance around the room to see what kind of object I can hit this motherfucker with.
“She swore that she didn’t like you. But I knew, I fucking knew. You want to know how I knew, you piece of shit?” He pauses, not giving me a chance to respond. “When I said your name, she got that glint in her fucking eyes like she used to do with me when we first met. I was pissed and jealous that she had the audacity to fall in love with another guy while she was with me. So I fucked her in the ass to remind her who she belonged to.” His lips curl up into a smirk.
I snap. My fist connects with his jaw. I push him to the floor and pound on his face. I’ve had enough of his shit.
He tries to cover his face, but I move his hand and crush his nose with my knuckles. My hand stings, but I keep punching as I see red. Then blood filters through my nostrils as memories of that night in the basement when Ellis blew his head off barges into my mind.
Shaking my head, I yell, “Don’t you ever talk about Gia like that! You beating on a woman doesn’t make you a fucking man. You pussy!”
He spits blood mixed with spit on my cheek, and I stand, using my shirt to wipe my face.
“Fuck you, Gunner!”
This motherfucker doesn’t need to be sticking his dick in anyone, so I stomp as hard as I can on his balls, causing him to howl. He clutches his balls and rolls to his side as he cries like a little bitch.
I need to get the fuck out of here. Every time I look at Ryan all I see is my dad’s face covered in blood.
As he rolls onto his back, I place my right foot over his throat and squeeze down hard as he scratches at my black boot. His bloody face turns a shade of purple, and he gulps for air. “You call the cops on me for beating your ass, I’ll come back and skin you alive.”
I release my foot as he gasps for air. I rush outside, and I vomit over the freshly manicured lawn. I wait in the car and close my eyes as my dad’s last words play in my mind.
Pull the fucking trigger. Be a man and do it.
My phone rings and Logan’s name pops up on the screen. I answer with shaking hands.
“Have Nova file a police report when she gets there and use your connections to bury this motherfucker in jail,” I say, breathing heavy. Iron and gunpowder crawl into my nostrils, and I open the car door, empty my stomach once more onto the black asphalt with the phone glued to the side of my face.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
He pauses for several seconds. “What did you do to him?”
“What I should’ve done nine years ago. Beat the fuck out of him.”
I hang up the phone and toss it in the passenger seat. I drive to the nearest corner store, stock up on bourbon, then head to the hotel I booked. I promised Gia I wouldn’t drink at all, but the sound of a gun going off in my ears and the way he looked before the trigger was pulled are too much for me. Victory and happiness. Even in death, he’s destroying my life.
Once I’m in my room, I lie on the bed, unscrew the bottle of bourbon, and drown in it until I black out.
Gia
Gunner was gone for three days.
Three. Days.
I haven’t spoken to him since my heart bled onto his expensive loafers when I told him I was in love with him. He didn’t show up to the baking event where I sold all the cupcakes I made and the bakery got booked three weeks in advance for different parties and wedding events.
To celebrate, I went out to a Japanese steakhouse with Paris and London as they filled me in on stories about their grandchildren.
I sit on the couch with Cora as we watch a Japanese cartoon about a bunch of girls running around in sailor outfits fighting crime. She spent the previous night at Alana’s house and fills me in on how much she loves Cydney and how she can’t wait until she’s old enough to babysit.
A black cloud doesn’t follow her around like it did after her mom left. If she’s still sad about it she doesn’t show it. That one trait is strong in Gunner’s family—they can mask their emotions. Sometimes I wish I could do that. My life would be so much easier.
I wish I could mask anger and regret as it bubbles in my chest. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth to him. He wouldn’t be avoiding me like a plague.
“I love it when Chibi shows up on Earth and lands on Serenity’s head. She doesn’t know Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon are her parents.”
“Is this your favorite show?” I ask her.
She nods. “Yeah, and Dragon Ball Z and Black Clover. Gunner promised he’ll take me to Tokyo next year since Japanese people are big on anime.” She taps her fingers on her chin. “Will you come with us? Gunner told me you love taking pictures of stuff, and they have cherry blossom trees like the ones on Roosevelt Island, but I heard they were far prettier there.”
“Sure.”
I grab my phone from the coffee table and call Gunner a few more times before I send Alana a text message, asking if she has heard from him. We exchanged numbers on Labor Day before Gunner showed up with Cora and Rylee. Rylee is waiting to get sentenced for theft, assault, and child abandonment. Gunner is looking into adopting Cora.
She replies back with a no, but she’ll ask Darien to call the hotel he’s staying at if he doesn’t show up tomorrow. And not to worry because meetings can take days.
I toss my phone back on the table.
Several moments later, the front door creaks open and my heart flutters in my chest as footsteps echo off the walls. It’s the devil himself strolling into the living room with his hands shoved in his denim jeans. His eyes are red-rimmed while his face looks like he’s aged ten years.
“Gunner!” Cora jumps up from the couch and rushes to him, hugging him as hard as she can. His eyes met mine and guilt etches across his face.
“How was the meeting?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
“Cora, go to your room. I need to talk to Rainbow.”
“Can we eat pizza tonight? I’m burned out on healthy food. Alana made me eat way too much of it when I was staying with her.”
“Yeah,” he says, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek then she skips up the stairs.
He walks up to me and kisses my lips, and I smell the whiskey on his breath. That’s all it takes for the gray walls to cave in on me. I pull away from his embrace. Anger pumps through my blood.
“You better have a good explanation about not returning any of my phone calls,” I snap, clenching my fists. He grabs my arms gently, sitting on the couch, pulling me into his lap.
“I lied to you. I went to go see Ryan. I beat his ass, and now he’s in jail for beating another woman.” He stares at me like he won some kind of award.
“Congratulations, you want a cookie now?” Me being around him makes me into a butthole like he is. Like Petra used to say in her Southe
rn voice, You hang around the barber shop long enough, you’ll get your hair cut there too. “What about you missing my calls?” I ask while he grabs my hand and kisses the knuckles.
“I blacked out because I had a flashback.” He says it so casually.
“From alcohol,” I state, and his silence is everything I need to know.
My heart beat harder than a drummer at a concert and knots clog my stomach causing my gut to hit the floor.
God, I’m a fucking fool to believe I can compete with the liquor. That we will have a shot at something real. I’m an idiot to think Gunner is capable of love. He can’t love me, let alone himself. My eyes sting with tears and before I know it, they fall like a river.
I get up from his lap and head up the staircase with Gunner on my heels.
Once I reach the stairs, he grabs my hand. I stop and lean on the oak railing.
“I’m not done talking to you,” he says.
“I’m done talking to you. As of right now, I’m calling off this stupid experiment,” I snap, wiping the tears from my face with my palm. I want him to feel my pain. I want to hurt him the way he hurt me.
“You know damn well our relationship was more than an experiment.” His face scrunches up in pain.
“Whatever.” I should have never fallen in love with him.
You’re stupid, heart. You see what you did? I hate you.
“Whoa. Back the fuck up. You’re leaving me? Because I didn’t return your calls?”
I stomp up the stairs, rush to his bedroom, and gather all my junk I brought here and toss it in my backpack. He doesn’t get it, and I doubt he ever will.
“No, but I should add it to the long list of shit you did!” I don’t believe in cursing, but Gunner has gotten under my skin with his drinking.
“I went to get justice for you because you didn’t get it for yourself.”
“I never asked you to do that! And you didn’t do it for me, you did it for yourself, to ease your own guilt because you couldn’t save me. I forgave Ryan for what he did to me. I didn’t want to wake up with hate in my heart. Even though I’m still healing from those wounds. I left him in the past. You decided to take matters into your own hands. I never asked you to try to be a hero and get back at him. Don’t use me as a way to justify your actions.” I tuck my hair behind my ears.
We’re quiet. He rubs the back of his neck like he does when he’s stressed out.
“You’re an alcoholic. I love you, Gunner. But I can’t keep turning a blind eye to your drinking or keep making excuses for it. I understand you have PTSD, and I don’t love you any less. In fact, I love you even more because it takes a strong person to wake up every morning to face their demons, to go out into the world and try to function when your mind is fighting its own battle. But you’re using liquor as a crutch, and at the end of the day you’ll choose your poison over me every time.” I grab my backpack from the floor and sling it over my shoulder. “I’m not sticking around to watch you destroy yourself.”
I avoid looking at him because if I do I’ll change my mind. Liquor is his addiction, and he’s mine. We both need to check into rehab.
“Don’t leave me, Gia. We can work this out!” His words sucker punch me in the gut.
“I’ll need a few days to move my stuff out of the condo.”
“No, I gave it to you.”
“I don’t want it. Take it out of my name.” I close my eyes as I rest my hand on the silver doorknob, and I can’t keep these stupid tears from falling down my face.
“If you leave, you’ll be taking a piece of my heart with you.”
I look back at him as tears sit at the corners of his eyes. Sorrow slices through his face. He looks like a broken God. A broken God who lost his soul. My throat clogs with lumps the size of the Titanic. Instead of responding, I leave the room.
Once I’m outside, I call an Uber and wait next to his black mailbox. Raindrops fall freely from the sky, soaking my hair and clothes. I hope it can absorb the pain in my chest that Gunner left there.
Gunner might be a lot of things, but he was right about one thing. If a sheep keeps playing with the wolf they’re bound to be eaten. Not only have I allowed myself to get bitten by him a few times, I let him eat me alive.
Gunner
Hitting rock bottom is as lovely as shoving my dick in a blender.
As soon as Gia leaves, I drop Cora off at Alana’s house, then come back home to drown myself in sorrow with a bottle of tequila.
Alcohol is a nasty addiction that makes me feel like I’m on top of the world, but when I’m sober, I feel like my face slammed into a concrete wall seven million times. I used to think love was poison; I was as wrong as two left shoes. Heartbreak is a poison that kills you slowly and softly.
For three weeks, I call Gia repeatedly, filling her voicemail.
Please, come home.
I miss you.
You made me feel things I’ve never felt before.
We’re not really broken up, you just said that because you’re mad.
I still watch television shows on Tuesdays and Saturdays like we did when we were together. I just finished the show How I Met Your Mother.
One day, I will be like Ted and tell our kids how I met you. Except I won’t be asking them for permission to date Aunt Robin. You’re my one and only.
Eventually, her voicemail is full and I can’t leave any more.
When I get tired of smelling my own ass, I undress, hop in the shower, and scrub my skin raw. My ma always told me if I sit in shit long enough, I’ll stop smelling it and she wasn’t wrong. So I need to get myself out of my own shit and stop having a fucking pity party.
I need to come clean to myself and my family about my alcoholism and take the final steps to recovery. I don’t have to be a victim of my past or my PTSD, and if I don’t get the help I can now, I’m going to drink myself into an early grave. I have too much to live for; I have a girl and family who love me.
After I turn off the scorching-hot water, I jump out of the shower. I wrap a towel around my waist, rest my palm on the cold black granite counter, and stare at myself in the mirror. Long and hard.
I don’t like the man who’s staring back at me. That’s why I never look at my reflection. Ma always told me if you can’t look at yourself in the mirror without feeling ashamed then you need to change the way you are to be the person you’re proud of. And this is not the man she raised. She raised someone to be strong and take care of people and love fiercely. I don’t know who the hell the person I’m staring at is. I feel like a fucking stranger in my own skin.
After I go to the bedroom, I change into a black cotton shirt and gray sweatpants. Then I head to the kitchen and pour every bottle of liquor down the drain. It hurts like hell to watch my poison be thrown away. But I have to get my ass in gear and get serious about my sobriety. So, I head upstairs to my bedroom, grab my phone from my nightstand, and dial the number to a rehab Hannah recommended. Then I call Ma and Alana and ask them to meet me at my house in an hour.
“I’m an alcoholic,” I say as four pairs of eyes stare at me while I stand in front of the entertainment center. They are all so quiet I can hear a pin drop. “That’s why Gia dumped my sorry ass.” I rub the back of my neck. “And I’m going to rehab for three months.” I hired a guy named Connor to run my bank until I come back.
Everyone starts firing off questions like a machine gun before my ma starts to cry hysterically.
“How long have you been drinking?” Ma asks, wiping her tears with the back of her hand and looking to Herold as if he has answers.
“Since I was sixteen, but it got worse over the last year.”
“Did you know about this?” Alana asks Darien as she punches him in the arm.
“No, because I would’ve dropped his ass off at a rehab center myself.” He folds his arms across his chest. “That’s probably why he didn’t tell me.” He shoots me a stern look. He’s right, I knew that was what he would have done.
&n
bsp; “Cora is going to stay with you,” I tell Alana.
“Sure,” she says. I need to let her know that I’m leaving for a while, so I shout her name for her to come downstairs and several minutes later she appears in the living room.
“What? Tuxedo?” She props herself on the couch next to Alana.
I bend down and my left knee rests on the wooden floor, so I’m on eye level with her.
“I’m going to go away for a few months, so you’ll be staying with Alana.”
“What? Why?” she asks as tears well in her eyes. “Are you leaving me like Mom did? Is it because of me? Did I do something wrong?”
Kids are so pure and innocent that they have a way of thinking that everything is their fault. They always see the world through the lens of love. And that’s what I admire about them. They are not corrupted by the world.
I use the pad of my thumb to wipe her tears. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m sick, and I need to get better. But when I get back, I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”
Cora gets up from the couch, throws her arms around my shoulders, and hugs me as if this is the last time she will see me.
“So you’re going to a hospital?”
“Yeah.”
She exhales loudly, and her round cheeks are pink. “I love you, Tuxedo Mask.”
“I love you, Chibiusa.”
“When you come back can I come live with you?” she whispers in my ear. “I can’t take another one of Alana’s healthy meals. I love our sister, but she takes healthy to another level.”
I nod my head. “It isn’t Alana who’s forcing you to eat that, Darien is the health freak.” Ever since Alana married Darien, he got her hooked on healthy food.
Cora hugs me one more time before she pulls away. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulls a bracelet of a white cat with a moon centered on his forehead from her wrist. “This is Artemis. He’ll protect you from anything. He’s my good-luck charm.” She places it in my hand.
“Thanks, I’ll wear it everywhere I go.”
Chasing Gunner (Chasing Series Book 2) Page 17
