by Gina Whitney
There was a certain amount of comfort in that. But the fact still remained, he left me. He never waited for an explanation or an excuse.
While mind-fucking myself into oblivion, a knock sounded at the door.
Chance. His smile was bright and cheery. “Well, how’s our girl?” He rushed in with shopping bags, dropping them at my feet. He engulfed me in a signature Chance hug, full of kisses and comfort. It was just what the doctor ordered.
I returned his embrace with a pat. “I’m doing much better, thank you.” I smiled up at his beautiful face. Sigh. He felt a step closer to home. I couldn’t help but get lost in the moment.
“I just want to say…” I didn’t get the words out before he was kissing the whole of my face.
“Don’t you fucking dare— Gia.” He held me against his muscled chest, squeezing the oxygen out of me. “Mr. Gunner filled me in. That fucking cunt. I want to kill her for you. I swear to God I do…and I’m a lover, not a fighter. That should tell you something.” He sighed loudly. “Tell me what you need. Anything and it’s yours.” He stepped back, taking a long look at me and the room I occupied. “Let’s get you out of here, baby girl,” he said, cupping my chin.
I nodded as Dr. Westin walked in. He walked directly over to Mr. Gunner, shaking his hand firmly. Chance tucked me under his arm securely. The doctor took notice and just nodded toward him.
“Gia, are you ready to give life a shot again?” He reached into his lab coat and placed three bottles of medication on my tray-table with a resounding clack.
I tensed. Chance squeezed my shoulders in support. “Yes, I am. I’m more than ready, Doctor.” I stepped forward and noticed the smirk of approval on Mr. Gunner’s face. “I’m ready.” I looked him in the eye.
Dr. Westin handed me my release forms with a litany of instructions. Fuck. That was embarrassing. What choice did I have? None. I needed out of that asylum. Meds or no meds, I needed to grasp at the tiny thread that was tethered to Abel. Grab on to it for dear life.
“Pen, please?” I motioned for the doctor to hand me his pen. He did. I signed that shit in a second flat while Chance patted my back and kissed my cheek.
“Best of luck, Gia. Remember, you have alternatives, little one. There are always alternatives.” He pocketed the pen, shook Mr. Gunner’s hand, nodded his goodbye, and left.
“Come, baby girl. Let’s get you out of these…umm…these clinical clothes.” Chance grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom with his bag of tricks. “Peaches and cream, baby girl. Your skin’s peaches and fucking cream.” He closed the door behind us.
“Sorry, it’s not really a big enough bathroom for the two of us.” I frowned up at him.
“It’s perfect! Let’s get you in to what fabulousness I picked out for that gorg body and face of yours.” He smiled brightly, making him look like he belonged in an Orbit gum commercial. Perfectly white teeth against olive skin.
He gently untied the back of my hospital gown. I lifted my hair out of the way. Bending into the mirror to take in the dark circles under my eyes, I cringed. “Don’t, Gia. You’re beautiful, my darling. And you’ve been through an ordeal. Don’t nitpick.” He frowned.
“Ugh. Fuck me sideways.” I fingered my gaunt, pasty white skin. I purposely disregarded the mirror for that singular purpose. Natural beauty my ass…
“Let’s not and say we did.” He grabbed my arms, staring into my eyes with a wicked gleam.
I smirked. God, he was beautiful. Too bad he batted for the other team. “Okay, let’s see what you brought for me.” I winked.
“There’s our girl.” He winked back, tucking my bangs behind my ears. “I happened to get my hands on the perfect Narciso Rodriguez dress…fresh off the runway, doll.” He unwrapped the tissue paper, exposing probably the singularly most beautiful dress known to man. Cashmere crepe. Long sleeves with a deep cowl exposing my ample cleavage while still conservative and demure. He held up a pair of nude Jimmy Choo pumps.
“You’re traveling with Mr. Gunner, so I couldn’t do fuck-me-here-and-now sexy.” He kissed my hand. “But this is as good as it gets. You will have him on his knees. Let’s go get Abel, baby girl.” He twirled me around, blowing in a fresh breath of confidence. Yes, Abel. Mine. He carefully aided me in dressing, paying attention to every detail. In his bag of tricks, he had my favorite MAC makeup. I couldn’t help but fall in love with him even more. He thought of every comfort to make me feel better and took his time with me as if I were a porcelain doll.
It was time to screw my head on straight and get my man. There was no time for intensiveness. No time for self-refection. I needed to own who I was. Finally gain my independence from the witch who birthed me. It was the time for the mighty Gia to show her face. Shake the dirt off of me and be the woman I was meant to be— his woman. I needed to get my love, my heart, and my soul back. With a mental shake, Gia Mastro, his beauty, appeared. That was where I was meant to be. God, I missed myself. One breath in…one deep breath out.
“Let’s go get what’s mine,” I announced to Chance.
With a proud smile, he said, “There you are.” He gripped me by the shoulders. “Let’s go get what’s yours.” Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead.
I breathed in his manliness, missing the touch of a man. Missing my man. My heart sang with joy. There was no darkness in that moment. Only light. Only love. I shook my head, concurring with a sweet smile. He wrapped his arms around me. We left the hospital behind us and looked to my future full of piss and vinegar.
A blacked out Ford Expedition SUV— a typical Gunner vehicle— sat curbside waiting. To my surprise, the giant, otherwise known as Abel’s personal driver, was standing beside the passenger door with a wide toothy smile. For a giant, he wasn’t half bad in the light of day. I cringed at the thought of the last time I was in his company. A full flush graced my face as I nodded, entering the vehicle. I didn’t have a moment of thought before I was enveloped into a full on Cindy-bear-hug.
“Gia! God, I’m so happy we sprung you.” She none too gently rocked us both.
“We?” I laughed. I was beyond thrilled, myself. I had so many questions. How? Why? But, it was hardly appropriate with said party in the vehicle. I was thankful. And at the moment, that was enough. Having support wasn’t something I wanted to kick in the teeth. I wanted to embrace it fully. I closed my eyes at that thought…and thought of him.
“Yes, we. My hand’s everywhere. This has Cindy’s-epic-awesomeness written all over it.” She winked. “Seriously, how are you? You look pale— tired.” A look of pity donned her face.
My face fell at that realization. What I did. How weak I truly am— was. Sigh. I didn’t want to be pitied. Not by her. Not by anyone ever again. I was tired of waiting for my happily ever after. I was going to grab happily ever after by the balls. I was going to be in control of my life. And it started with closing the chapter of my childhood with Medusa permanently. Fuck that bitch! I’ve heard some people say blood is thicker than water, but after meeting Abel Gunner… I’d say a Master’s love is thicker than both.
“Hey, hey now…chin up, tits out, and smile, sweets. We’re going to get your man…right?” Chance grabbed my chin with the gentle hand of a brother. Then turned to Cindy. “I don’t want any talk of the ghosts of tragic past. Been there done that. This is a voyage of amore. Got it?” He rolled his eyes at Cindy and then turned back to me. “You, my darling, need to eat. I took the liberty of ordering some comfort, and not so comforting foods for the plane ride. And wait till you see your bedroom.” He clapped. “Mr. Gunner gave me the go ahead.” He leaned in. “Not that I needed permission. I’m family.” He patted my leg, winking. His Orbit smile electrified the SUV.
A chuckle came from Mr. Gunner. It was hard not getting wrapped up in Chance. Between his gorgeously sculpted face, piercing glacial blue eyes, and warm brotherly personality, it was hard to remember he batted for the other team. I could see Cindy staring at him as if he were otherworldly. He was. I’d ne
ver met anyone like him. Not in my lifetime.
Mr. Gunner typed away on his laptop. Office work, I guessed. Wait…
“Mr. Gunner, who’s going to run the office?” I asked, panicked.
He finished typing then patted the seat beside him once.
My inner sub responded immediately. Not in sexual way, but in a way of deference. Hmm? I never gave it much thought. Was Mr. Gunner a Dom? The way he held himself. The command, control, and will he showed spoke akin to one. I’d never ask. It would be inappropriate. I looked at Cindy, who was texting…then to Chance, who nodded. Was that an affirmation? Or go sit next to him? I shrugged and off I went.
He moved his briefcase from the seat so I could take it.
“Come here, Gia.” He continued to pat.
I reciprocated and scooted closer. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous around him. I owed him everything. And he was Abel’s blood. I couldn’t get any closer to Abel at that moment. It sounds trite, but I was comforted by that thought.
“If I ask you to do something, will you trust me to know what’s best? If I ask you to live your truth, could you? Could you live in that moment? Even if it’s stretched into a few hours?” he asked me.
I started cracking my knuckles. Fuck. Could I? That was my chance. My moment…my all in moment. Did I have the balls? I took a moment to ponder that, not realizing I was now massaging my temples in stern concentration.
His mighty hand removed my fingers from my head. “Gia, answer the question. Do you trust me?” He sidled up to me in his commanding tone. “Does your love for Abel run soul deep? The type that takes your breath away?”
His blackened eyes were freed of all politeness. He wanted an answer. One breath in… One long breath out.
“Unequivocally, yes.” My eyes met his. There was no room for indecision. I knew the tell-tale signs of a Dom. It wasn’t a question that was to be met with an answer other than yes.
A roguish smirk graced his Abel-esque face. Immediately, my body answered with a breathy exhale. Pressure released. Abel and his father had so many similarities it was startling. I found peace in that fact— comfort.
We took a twenty-minute, scenic drive through the outskirts of Colorado’s picturesque municipalities. My head leaned against the seat, deep in thought. I pictured the moment Abel and I would share upon seeing each other again. Queasiness flooded my belly. I pushed my hand into my stomach to dispel the raw feelings. They weren’t tangible. But they felt that way. Nevertheless, it was enough to make me nauseous.
The medication I was on helped, but didn’t take it away. My doctor’s recommendation was to feel. Not to run from the feelings, but to embrace them. It was a healthy sign that I was thriving. It didn’t mean I had to like it. Which I didn’t. I fucking hated it. My thoughts were always to stuff that shit deep down into the dark place where they belonged. But this was a rebirth of sorts. The new, improved me. The woman who would feel her way through life. No more hiding, sulking, self-mutilation, co-dependency, and lying. I would be truthful. Stand up for myself. There were a few people that needed to hear those words from my mouth. Soon. Very soon. First, there was Abel.
Chance’s enthusiastic clapping woke me from my thoughts. “One step closer, Gia.” His words were meant to inspire. The twist in my gut was the proverbial knife I was feeling. We were at the same airport hangar as that day. A torrent of agony crashed down on me. My heart raced with the speed of a freight train.
A glass of water was introduced to my hand by Mr. Gunner. “Drink, my dear. I’ve got you. You’re with family now. People who care about you.” He soothed my mind with his words, but it was Cindy and Chance’s group hug that managed to penetrate my once galvanized skin.
The giant opened the door, extending his hand to me as I gave my water to Cindy. I needed to move on from that horrible day. So, I put one Jimmy Choo in front of the other until I was secured in my posh seat upon the Gunners’ private Gulfstream G200 Galaxy. My seat sat next to the window. My eyes took full advantage of the majestic mountains in the distance. God, it was beautiful. I couldn’t decide what was more breathtaking…the view or the inside of the plane. In traditional Gunner tastes, it was decorated in palettes of cream and rose. Seven luxurious deep-leathered seats with a matching couch for two. The plane was able to seat nine comfortably— no, more than comfortably. I could’ve lived on that plane full-time without complaint. It was cushy. Definitely worthy of the Gunner name.
“For you, my doll.” Chance twiddled a rose by its stem in front of me.
“Thank you, Chance. I mean, not just for this.” I took a deep inhale of the fragranced rose. “But, also for everything.” I leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
He enveloped my body into his in one swoop. My cheek rested against the warm, hard planes of his pecs. His scent was not Abel’s. However, he had a fresh, clean scent that he wore perfectly. Sigh.
“You’re very welcome, my darling. Come see your surprise.” He unbuckled my seatbelt and yanked me up.
Cindy had her face glued to her phone, and Mr. Gunner worked furiously on his laptop. We walked twenty-five feet to a pocket door that slid left. He opened the door and waited for me to enter. I walked through in amazement. A mini version of Abel’s bedroom suite. It was a tomb of deep burgundy, ecru, and splash of black.
“Umm, I don’t know what to say?” I walked around carefully. I wasn’t sure I liked it at all. Yes, it was thoughtful…but the remembrance of his room made me ill. Sick with guilt. I could feel my anxiety pique. One breath in…one long, cleansing breath out. The bed was queen-sized and dominated the small space.
“Smell.” He handed me a pillow.
I stepped forward, inquisitively bringing it to my nose. Him. “Is this…”
He nodded.
“Why?” I asked. Why would he take Abel’s pillow? How fucked-up was that?
“I did it because I know how someone’s smell could affect a person’s head. I thought you could use a dose of him on the way over. Let me tuck you in, kitten.” He pulled away the covers, exposing beautiful pink satin sheets.
“Pink?” I laughed. So not Abel.
“For my kitten.” He winked, kissing my cheek. “When the Master’s away and all that, right?” He laughed to himself.
I guess. I shrugged, getting in to the first slice of heaven I’d had in a while.
Curling up with his pillow secured against my chest, I said, “Chance, I can never thank you enough. You’re the brother I’ve never had. You mean the world to me. Thank you…” A tear escaped my eye to which Chance caught with his finger.
“No tears, doll…only pretty rainbows for you from now on.” He turned, shutting off the light. “Nighty, little one.” He closed the door securely behind him.
God, for a girl who’s known nothing but turbulence her whole life…I felt cherished and adored. A feeling I never wanted to be without again. No matter how many breaths I took, I still felt I couldn’t breathe. Taking a deep inhale of his pillow, I drew in his intoxicating scent and my eyes closed without medication for the first time in what felt like years— Abel mine.
Life gives you choices, and I’d always chosen the wrong ones. That time, I chose Abel, whole-heartedly. No longer was the leaf caught in the blustery winds….
Liquid fire raced through my veins with the force of a volcanic eruption. The word angry just didn’t cut it. I felt homicidal. I closed my eyes, savoring the last moments of solitude before I had to rejoin the band. My mates got the hint loud and clear. They left me alone to wallow in a world of endless pain. My only consolation was my guitar in one hand and a bottle of JD in the other. I strummed my guitar with the familiarity of her body. It always went back to her. I fingered the strings bloody. The pain felt good— real.
My hotel room dripped in submissive creams and orchids. The color palette licked my senses at every turn. Orchid reminded me of her beautiful, delicate pussy. My consciousness drifted to the exploration of each fold with my tongue…spreading her lips
with my fingers. Watching her body respond to my touch as I bury my tongue deep within her, searching for that spot that drove her crazy. But those very thoughts proved duplicitous.
In anger, I tossed my guitar aside. The rage inside of me welled up to thunderous levels. My fingers dug bloodily into my palms. Holding my hands out for a visual check, I watched the blood steadily run into the creases of my palms. I needed more pain…more of everything. I walked to the floor to ceiling patina-scalloped mirror in the living room. I took a good, hard look at the man staring back. A razor hadn’t touched my face in days. My skin was ashen…eyes shadowed in agony. Fuck, I looked bad.
Leaning one hand against the wall, I palmed my face with the other. Fuck me…I lost my head over Beauty, that’s for fuck sure. Despite the world of hurt that went down between us…my dick was fucking hard at the thought of her. I couldn’t help but squeeze my cock ring, pulling it slightly. It felt like a lifetime ago that I had been buried balls deep…it’d only just been a few days. My fist closed mightily in my hand right before burying it into the mirror, shattering it. That’s how I felt. Utterly and thoroughly fucking shattered.
The door bounded open with a frenzy of bodyguards running in.
“Mr. Gunner, sir, are you okay? We heard…” My bodyguard’s mouth hung open.
I looked down to see what the fuck had him stock-still and wide-eyed. My eyes came to rest on a shard of glass from the mirror that was embedded in the webbing between my middle and forefinger. Fuck! A steady stream of blood poured out onto the marble floor. The staccato of feet approaching got my attention. The guys…
“What in the fuck, esse?” Ender grabbed my arm, holding it above my head.
Funny, I didn’t feel a thing. I was numb. Numb from feeling. Numb from not feeling. Numb from the alcohol. Just so fucking numbed out.
“Jesus, fuck.” Woody’s voice broke over the crowd of people running to grab towels.
