by Jen Talty
“Shit. I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry,” Declan said.
“We’d been broken up for a while, but she wouldn’t let go. She would call me in the middle of the night, telling me she had nothing to live for. I’d race over to take care of her. Most of the time it was idle threats, but I always knew she was capable of taking her own life.” Gunner raised his beer to his lips. The bubbles fought their way down his throat, hitting his stomach like a cement rock. “About a year after I ended it, I started seeing her best friend.”
“Arcadia?” Declan asked.
Gunner nodded. “We kept it secret, which was stupid. But I thought it was better if Courtney didn’t find out. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was only nineteen at the time and thought Courtney would eventually ease up. But she never did, and one day she showed up at Arcadia’s place and found us in bed.”
“How the hell did she get in?”
“She had a key.” Gunner pushed his beer aside. If he drank another drop, he’d puke his guts out. “Courtney had made one without Arcadia’s knowledge.”
“That’s criminal, what she did.”
“Courtney did a lot of crazy things. But I always went racing to her side every time she said she might cause herself harm.”
“I’m sorry, man,” Declan said. “It’s not your fault.”
“But she blamed me in her suicide note.”
“Still not your fault.”
“Hang on a sec.” Gunner slipped from the kitchen and back into the office where he gathered up all the pictures and letters from Arcadia, stuffing them back into the box. Opening the desk drawer, he flipped open a little container and pulled out his copy of the note. He tucked the box under his arm and marched back to the kitchen. Never in a million years did he think he’d talk to a single soul about this stuff.
Especially not to one of the married crew.
Hell, he hadn’t even spoken to his brother about it much.
But he needed a sounding board before meeting with Arcadia.
And meeting his son for the first time.
He set the box on the counter and unfolded the note. “Just listen and then you tell me if you still think I’m not to blame.”
“To whom it may concern.
Because it concerns no one.
No one cares. If they cared, they would have picked up the phone. But Gunner didn’t. He ignored me for her, and she did the same.
All I wanted to ask was why? Why didn’t they tell me? Maybe if I knew they were together, I might have started to let go of Gunner. I held on so tight because I loved him. And at one point, he loved me.
But that changed.
Just like with my parents.
They couldn’t be bothered with me either.
I’m tired. And I’m done. There is nothing and no one left for me.
Loving someone hurts too much, and I can’t make it stop while I’m alive. Gunner once told me that love is all we have to look forward to.
I believed him until he broke my heart into a million pieces. I can’t put it back together so I’m going to put it out of its misery.
To whom it may concern.
Or not.
Goodbye.”
“Those are the words of a woman in need of therapy,” Declan said. “We’ve seen it many times on the job, but she made that choice, not you.”
“I know, but I was young, and Courtney hung herself within a half hour of when she called me, and I didn’t answer.”
“You can’t be expected to take every call all the time.” Declan had a valid point; one Gunner knew was true.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the idea that maybe if he had done one thing differently, she’d still be alive.
“Seeing that jumper today. Watching him shoot himself the second Arcadia undid the belt that held them together, made me realize no matter what I had done differently with Courtney, without proper help, she probably would have done the same thing.”
“Glad to hear that. Honestly, Ace and Hunter were pretty worried about you, and I hope you don’t mind me saying, you always keep us at arm’s length. We’re a team. Family. That’s why Ace won’t let you go. You belong here. With us.”
“I don’t know about that.” He pulled the picture out of his pocket and glanced at it. His son’s smile was spread wide across his face. “This was taken a few years ago, but I just found out this morning that I’m a father.”
Declan dropped his beer on the floor. His mouth hung wide open as the bottle smashed against the tile. He took the image in his hands. “Christ. He looks just like you.”
“It’s like looking into a mirror at the past. And there’s more.” Carefully, Gunner went about cleaning up the mess while Declan sorted through all the pictures. Gunner was used to long silences between him and the team. Everyone, even when kept at an emotional distance, had that same need for quiet retrospection.
“She kept him from you,” Declan said as more of a statement than a question.
“No. She wrote me all these letters, but I didn’t open them until this morning.” Gunner dumped the broken glass in the trash and finished by cleaning off the floor with a wet rag.
“That makes you about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”
Leave it to one of his brothers-in-arms to call the kettle black.
“It’s not like I planned on being a prick. The question is: what do I do now? She’s just off a divorce, and I have no idea if that man is still in my son’s life. Or what he knows or thinks of me. I sure as shit don’t want to upset the boy or disrupt his home life.”
“Gunner. Slow down and take a breath. One thing at a time, and you should start with calling the boy’s mother and having a conversation.” Declan grabbed a fresh beer and raised it. “Unless you’ve already done that?”
“Nope.” Gunner hadn’t ever felt he needed anyone to hold his hand. Whatever happened in his life, he handled it alone. In this moment, he knew he’d spent the last ten years jumping from one assignment to the next not out of a need to keep busy, but out of fear of making connections. He’d left the one person he’d loved with all his soul behind and with her, he left his heart. “I hate to ask this, but would you mind taking a drive with me? I found out she lives just a couple of neighborhoods north of here.”
Declan stood and eased around the side of the island, slapping his hand against Gunner’s back. “It’s about time you leaned on your family.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
Declan smiled. “I love my wife and kids. They are everything to me. But this team that I call my brothers, they are a different kind of family. We understand each other in ways that our families don’t—well, everyone else’s wife but mine, since she’s one of us.”
“That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said.”
“But you get where I’m going with it. We are here for each other no matter what. So if you need me to hold your hand, I’ll do it as long as it’s not while you’re taking a piss.”
For the first time in many years, Gunner felt like he belonged somewhere. It wasn’t about fitting in, but about opening up his heart and soul and allowing someone to care about him.
That maybe, he actually deserved it.
Chapter 3
Arcadia almost never canceled on her patients, but she needed a couple of days to collect herself. Between Brad trying to kill himself, and her, and the clean-up in her office, she deserved a break.
Not to mention seeing Gunner. She had no idea he’d been living in Florida. If she had known, she might have picked Texas to relocate. That was even farther from the great maple state of Vermont. Speaking of syrup, she slathered her son’s pancakes in the sticky stuff. The only good thing that came out of her less than two-year lame attempt at a marriage. She should have known it wouldn’t last.
Doug was nice enough. Attentive enough.
But he wasn’t Gunner.
And she couldn’t give herself to Doug completely when her heart was still
with the man who ripped it from her chest and tossed it aside.
“Davidson. Let’s hurry up. The school bus will be here in fifteen minutes.”
“Coming, Mom!”
Five seconds later, her son skidded to a stop in front of the kitchen table. She’d rented a small house in Ocean Side Village, south of the Air Force Base. She should have considered the remote idea that Gunner could have been stationed there. But, seriously, what were the odds?
Obviously, the odds were better than she’d thought.
She ruffled Davidson’s soft hair. It was a little lighter than Gunner’s, but other than that, there was no mistaking who Davidson’s father was. She glanced over her shoulder to the picture of Gunner she always kept on the fridge. It was one of her favorite images. He wore loose-fitting jeans and a black V-neck shirt. He leaned against his truck, arms folded across his chest. He sported a huge smile. The one that made her knees go weak every time she dared to stare at the picture for more than a second. It was taken three weeks before Courtney had killed herself.
“Eat up, kiddo.” She settled in the seat across from Davidson with a hot cup of coffee. The steam rose up to her nostrils, and she inhaled the rich scent of mocha, cream, and splash of cinnamon.
“What are you going to do today since you’re not working?” Davidson asked.
“I thought I’d catch up on some of my shows and maybe read a book.” She palmed the mug and took a small sip. Relaxing would be out of the question, even though she planned on trying.
Only, she’d be pacing with her cell in her hand, waiting for Gunner to call.
If he called.
“That sounds so boring. You should play some video games or maybe go outside and kick a ball around.” Davidson raised a fork full of pancakes and stuffed it in his mouth. Syrup dribbled down his cheek. He swiped at it with the back of his hand.
Snagging a napkin, she reached across the table.
“Mom!” He took it from her hand and cleaned off his face. “I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m almost in double digits.” He sat a little taller and smiled.
Just like his father.
“Yes, you are, but you’ll always be my little boy.”
Davidson rolled his eyes.
She watched her precious child devour his breakfast. The last ten years had gone by too fast.
“Go brush your teeth. We’ve got five minutes.” She tapped her Apple Watch.
“Yes, ma’am.” Davidson pushed back from the table, taking his plate with him. He paused in front of the fridge. “Are you still looking for my dad?”
“Every day.” She swallowed. If Gunner wanted nothing to do with his son, then she’d bite the bullet and lie to her kid that his father had been killed. What other choice did she have? She knew the truth would probably come out, but not until Davidson was an adult and had the skill set to understand that his father’s decision had nothing to do with him.
“Why is it so hard to find him? Can’t we just go to any Air Force Base and ask where in the world he is?” Davidson dumped his plate in the sink and faced her with tears welling in his eyes.
Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. She’d had this conversation a million times with Davidson. When she’d given birth, she ran on the assumption that Gunner just hadn’t gotten her letters yet. She let that thought rule her for the next two years when reality had sunk in, and Gunner hadn’t returned a single letter.
Telling Davidson about his father’s identity had been a mistake. It didn’t matter that her only intention had been to make sure Davidson didn’t go through life thinking he was a bastard. That if his father knew about his existence he’d be in his life.
“Sweetheart. We’ve been over this. The government isn’t going to give me that information.”
“Why didn’t you tell him about me before he left for the military?” Davidson’s lower lip quivered.
She knew from experience, this line of questioning wasn’t going to end in the next few minutes, so she reconciled that she’d be driving her son to school today. And that was okay. He could be late.
Hell, he was in the fourth grade. He could take the day off. It’s not like he missed much school and perhaps it would be good for them to spend the day together. It would certainly get her mind off of waiting for Gunner to read her letters. And if he did end up opening them, he’d need some time to digest the information.
“Come here.” She patted her leg.
Davidson didn’t usually sit on her lap often anymore, but he didn’t hesitate this time.
“I didn’t know about you until after your father left. But as soon as I did, I started searching for him.” That wasn’t a lie. “I wish I could tell you I knew where he was or what he was doing, but I can’t.”
“Do you think he died?”
Before she could answer, her cell phone rang. She raised her arm, glancing at the number flashing on her Apple Watch. She had no idea who it was, so she’d let it go to voice mail.
“It’s possible.”
Ding. Dong.
“I hope he’s okay.” Davidson wiped his face and leapt from her lap. “I’ll get it.”
“I love you, kiddo. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Davidson flashed that great big smile. “I love you too, Mom.” He skipped off toward the front of the house.
She let out a long breath. It was close to nine in the morning. Gunner had left work at seven. He had plenty of time to read even one letter.
“Mom! Mom! It’s Dad! We found Daddy!”
Gunner hated it when people showed up at his house unannounced, which is why he decided to call Arcadia first, but she let it go to voice mail. He glanced over his shoulder. Declan remained in the passenger seat of the truck with the window rolled down. He pulled his ball cap over his head, and Gunner suspected Declan was about to take a little snooze.
He raised his hand three times before his finger finally connected with the doorbell. Not wanting to seem too impatient, he turned his back to the door and stared at the school bus rolling to a stop down the street. He squinted, looking for his kid.
His kid.
He couldn’t put words to how he felt about being a father. Surreal didn’t do it justice. Maybe it was because he hadn’t met him yet.
Butterflies filled his stomach as the door rattled.
“Can I help you?” a squeaky voice asked.
Gunner turned. He had to lower his gaze. Standing before him was pint-size version of himself.
“Dad?” the boy whispered.
“Huh?”
“Mom! Mom! It’s Dad! We found Daddy!” The kid jumped at Gunner, wrapping his arms and legs around Gunner’s body so tight that he couldn’t catch a breath.
He stumbled backward, lifting the boy higher. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek against the boy’s head. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
“Your name is Davidson, right?”
“Yes! After you.” Davidson snuggled his face into the side of Gunner’s neck.
His legs wobbled, so he took a seat on the steps, blinking. A couple of tears rolled down his cheeks. Through the blinding sun, Gunner stared at Declan, who had snatched his hat from his head and sat up taller, shock registering on his face.
“How do you know who I am?”
“Mom keeps a picture of you on the fridge, and she’s told me all about you.”
“She has?”
Davidson lifted his head and nodded wildly. “We were just talking about you over breakfast. We’ve been trying to find you, but the Air Force wouldn’t tell us, and we couldn’t find a Gunner Davidson anywhere in any phone book. We even looked on Twitter and Facebook and Googled you. Nothing.”
“Well, I’m not on social media, and my real name isn’t Gunner.”
“It’s not?” Davidson’s sky-blue eyes went wide. “Does Mom know that?”
Gunner laughed. It had been the best kept secret his entire life. When he’d been about the same age as Davidson, h
e’d been given the nickname Gunner by his older brother because Gunner had always been ‘gunning’ for something. He liked it so much that shortly after, he begged his parents to stop calling him by his given name. As time went on, he simply dropped it.
“I don’t think so. I stopped going by it before I met your mom.” Gunner adjusted his son, so he was on his right knee. He wanted to soak in the kid’s face and memorize every crinkle and expression.
“You were in the seventh grade, and some boy was picking on Mom. You punched him right on the nose.” Davidson raised his little hand, fisting and smacking it into his other hand.
“She told you that, huh?”
“Mom’s told me lots of things about you.” Davidson’s smile quickly turned into a frown. “Where have you been? Mom has been sending letters to the Air Force for years.”
“I’ve been lots of places, and the letters just finally caught up to me.” Gunner didn’t think he should say anything else on the subject. “Where’s your mom?”
“Right behind you.” Arcadia’s sweet voice tickled his eardrums like palm trees in the breeze. “So, what’s your real name?” Leave it to her to get fixated on that. No matter how often he tried to bury things he didn’t want to answer when they’d been kids, she always managed to bring things full circle.
“Yeah. What is it? My full name is Davidson Gunner Bloomingdale. Mom’s is—”
“Arcadia Nights Bloomingdale. Arcadia because her dad loved arcades. And Night was her mother’s maiden name.” Gunner turned his attention back to Davidson as anger and resentment rolled across his skin from his toes to his head. She said she hadn’t kept his son from him, but in reality, that is exactly what she’d done. But now was not the time to confront her.
And never in front of the boy.
“If Gunner isn’t your real name, then what is?” Davidson asked.
“If I tell you, you have to promise me never to tell my buddies at work.” He pointed to Declan, still sitting in the front of the truck. “Especially that guy. He’s got the biggest mouth of all of them.”
“I can meet the people you work with?”
