by Gwyn McNamee
Jesus, Lucas, calm the fuck down.
“What? Cheating on you? No, but even if I had been seeing him, you and I weren’t exclusive anyway.”
He recoils, and the rage in his eyes is replaced by a pain I’ve never seen there before. “Wow, is that really how it was for you?”
“I thought we were on the same page, Lucas.”
The lack of response tells me all I need to know. This conversation isn’t going anywhere. He doesn’t understand where I’m coming from at all and doesn’t want to hear a single word I have to say.
Maybe this is my fault. Maybe I was playing with fire by spending so much time with him and expecting him to remain emotionally detached. Perhaps my ability to emotionally detach myself from people is backfiring.
“All I can say is I’m sorry, Lucas. I really am.”
I jump from the stool and beeline for the door, not looking back at the table. I need to get out of here and away from him. I have enough to worry about with the approaching storm.
Two nights without seeing Gabe and I’m practically crawling out of my skin. After what happened Thursday morning, I thought he could use a little time to decompress and think. So, no matter how hard it was for me, I stayed away.
I anticipated he would call last night, but never heard a peep from him. Now, it’s mid-morning Saturday, and I’m tempted to go over to his place unannounced just to make sure he’s okay.
But that’s probably a really fucking bad idea. He needs a little more time. If he hasn’t called by tonight, then I’ll make a move.
I usually bitch about having to work on Saturdays, but now, I wish I was bogged down in patients. The doctors I work for know a lot of people can’t take off work during the week, so we open the clinic from eight to eight one Saturday a month to accommodate them. The other nurse practitioner and I alternate taking the clinic shift, and this happens to be my month off.
I’m tempted to call her to ask to switch with me so I can work today and take my mind off Gabe. I need to stick to my guns and give him space, but not having anything to distract myself with is making that impossible.
Don’t call.
Right?
Fuck.
My phone taunts me from the kitchen counter.
I can’t believe I’m making this call, but I need to talk to someone, and my options are severely limited. Star was always it. Storm would be my next choice, but there’s no way I can discuss the Gabe thing with her. The same goes with Dani, for obvious reasons.
This is a last resort.
“Hello?”
Shit.
I’m tempted to hang up and forget the whole thing when she answers, but if I don’t talk to someone about this, I may go postal.
“Hey…Nora…it’s Skye.”
“Oh…”
The surprise in her voice is warranted. I don’t think I’ve ever called her for anything but the occasional touching base about who’s bringing what to a family gathering. While not technically part of the Hawke clan, she’s been known to tag along with Savage and Dani, and I’ve always enjoyed my conversations with her. I just hope she feels the same way because I need her now.
“I really need to talk to someone about something, and I’m hoping you have some time?”
The momentary pause before she answers has me instantly regretting exposing myself like this. I almost tell her never mind.
“Sure. I’m not working until later today. Do you want to meet for lunch?”
I glance at the clock on the microwave above my stove. It’s 10:00 but I still need to shower and get myself presentable. “Yeah, I could meet you at about 11:00, does that work?”
“Perfect. Let’s meet at Marley’s.”
“See you there.”
By the time I arrive and make my way to the table where Nora’s waiting, my stomach is in knots. What do I say? Do I tell her everything? Some?
Fuck.
Nora smiles as I sit across from her, then eyes me expectantly. “So, what’s up?”
I guess we are diving right in.
This was always so easy when Star was my sounding board. I didn’t even have to say half the things I was thinking because she just knew. The whole “girl talk” thing with someone other than her is so foreign to me, I’m terrified I’ll scare Nora off.
“I really appreciate you meeting me. I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but I really need to talk to someone about this. Shit…I don’t even know where to begin.”
She laughs and takes a sip of her water. “How about we start with you banging Gabe.”
What?
How the fuck did she know?
It takes me a minute or so to overcome the shock of her statement and gather my wits. The satisfaction on her face tells me it wasn’t a guess. She’s got insider information.
“Fucking Gabe…he told you?”
She grins smugly and shakes her head. “He didn’t have to. I guessed.”
Damn.
“Were we that obvious?”
If she figured it out, maybe we are deluding ourselves thinking no one else knows. Maybe Savage already suspects and just hasn’t said anything?
No. No fucking way he would stay quiet if he knew.
With a shrug, she reaches out and snags the menu, focusing her attention on it. “I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but the tension between you two the other night at the club was pretty hard to miss. I’m surprised you two didn’t do it right then and there.”
If she only knew…
Our mutual masturbation session might as well have been us fucking on his desk. What I wouldn’t give…something about doing it there, knowing someone could walk in on us going at it is sexy as hell.
“So, what did he say about me?”
Her eyes flicker up from the menu, and she quirks an eyebrow at me. “Really? Are we in fifth grade?”
I kind of want to punch her, but she makes a good point. That question was a little immature. I just really need to know what’s going on in his head. Things are tense and only getting worse when I thought they would get better once we were together. He’s not talking to me, and apparently, he is talking to her, at least, somewhat.
“Sorry. I just—”
She holds up a hand to stop me. “I’m going to give you the same advice I gave him. Just tell Savage. And do it quickly. The longer you let this go on trying to hide it, the worse it will be when he finds out. It may be tense for a while, but Dani can handle him.”
There’s no denying Savage has mellowed since he and Dani got together. But even she won’t be able to tame the beast when he goes into full protective older brother mode. I always felt bad for the boys who showed up at our house when we were growing up. Without Dad around, Savage stepped in and might as well have answered the door with a shotgun. I’m pretty sure that would have been less intimidating than a six-three, two hundred and forty pound Savage greeting you.
“I wish it was that simple, Nora. But Savage won’t let this go, no matter how much time we give him to get acclimated to the idea of us together as a couple. Gabe is his best friend, and I’m his baby sister. We will always be those two very separate things, and that’s the way he wants it to stay.”
Nora drops her menu and reaches out to pat my hand on the table. “Honey, if you really believe that, then you need to decide what’s more important to you. Your relationship with Savage or the potential of a future with Gabe.”
Right, like that’s a choice I could ever make.
“We haven’t had an appointment in a while. How have things been going?”
I narrow my eyes at Dr. Cochran and frown. “Oh, come on, Doc…we both know you aren’t surprised to see me.”
Let’s stop with the clinical formalities bullshit.
The corner of her mouth quirks up, and she nods, her brown bob bouncing around her shoulders with the movement. “Well, the last time you were here, I did recommend you keep coming to see me, did I not?”
Of course she did. What sh
rink wouldn’t tell you to keep coming even when you’ve finally reached the point of normalcy again? I was finally off all my meds, and I felt good, comparatively speaking. Other than the lingering lust for Skye, I had come to grips with what happened with Abello and my father, and I’d moved on. Continuing to see Doc at that point felt like nothing more than a reminder of the lowest point of my life and my complete failure to handle my shit on my own. I couldn’t do it.
Coming here again is like walking back into Mosul without my gun or body armor. But I’ll never admit that to Doc.
“You may have encouraged me to keep seeing you.”
She narrows her eyes on me this time. “And to continue your meds. I noticed you haven’t requested a refill in quite some time. I know you don’t need to hear it again, but the medicine isn’t like aspirin or Tylenol where you can just take it when you feel you need it. It works by building up in your body, and from the looks of it, you haven’t had it for a long time. I imagine some of your symptoms have returned?”
Fucking understatement much?
The leather of her chair creaks when her long legs cross, and she waits for my response. I drop my head against the back of my chair.
“I guess you could say that.”
Reliving the nightmares and chest-tightening anxiety are not on the top of my to-do list, but if there’s one thing I learned from Doc when I started coming here, it was that not talking only makes things worse. Before Doc, before my PTSD, before the accident, I had Star. She was the greatest therapy I ever had, even when I didn’t know that’s what it was. Star never let me get too bogged down in the bullshit in my own head. She made me talk and then dished out what advice she had, if any. And the times she didn’t have any usually ended up being the ones where I already knew the answer anyway.
I know Doc’s not going to press me. That’s not her style. She doesn’t tolerate bullshit in her office, but also knows that pushing someone like me isn’t the wisest move if she wants open and honest dialogue. She likes to wait for me to start before jumping in; it’s annoying, sitting in awkward silence, but it works. It always gets me talking.
“The nightmares are back.”
“For how long?”
I shrug as if I don’t know exactly when they started. “About five days.”
She nods and jots something down in her notebook. What I wouldn’t give to see those notes. They’re probably a great read.
“Did something happen to trigger them?”
Someone happened.
Telling her I’m sleeping with Savage’s sister is the last thing I want to do. Savage is a patient. She knows him—the intricate workings of his inner mind. I know what I say to her is confidential, and can’t be revealed to him. But it’s still awkward and uncomfortable.
“Look, this is weird for me, so I’m just going to come out and say it…I’m sleeping with Skye Hawke.”
I’ll hand it to Doc, she tries very hard not to react to my confession, but the twitch in her eyebrow and slight quirk of her mouth give her away. The crazy thing is, she doesn’t appear surprised. Actually, she looks rather smug.
What the fuck is that about?
“Why the look, Doc?”
She shrugs and leans forward slightly in her chair. “I would be lying if I said this surprises me. When you first starting coming to me and you spoke about the Hawkes, there was always something a little different in your tone when you mentioned Skye.”
Huh, I was that obvious?
“And then, when you returned to therapy early this year and you told me about Savage and Danika’s wedding, your entire demeanor changed whenever Skye’s name came up. I had a feeling something may have occurred with her and that there may be some other feelings there.”
“Gee, thanks for telling me that, Doc.”
A low chuckle slips from her smiling lips. “That’s not my job, Gabe. You know that.”
“Still…” It could have saved me some suffering. I could have done more to avoid acting on my feelings had I been more aware of them. Maybe I would have been able to stay away.
“Does Savage know?”
I lean forward and scrub my hands down my face. “Of course not. Do you think I’d be sitting here in one piece if he did?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “Probably not, no. Is that what you think triggered the nightmares? You’re concerned about Savage finding out?”
“Concerned? No. Terrified is more accurate. Shit, you know him, Doc. He will not take this well. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother, and I betrayed him.”
Her slight recoil doesn’t go unnoticed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her react that way to something I’ve said, and I’ve told her some very graphic, very messed up stuff over the years. Her lips purse slightly, and she considers me. “Betrayal is a strong word, Gabe. Is that really what you think you did?”
Isn’t it?
The Hawkes took me in and gave me the family and love I never had at home. Savage and I have been through so much together. I know what Skye means to him, especially after Star’s death. He will protect her with every weapon in his arsenal, even if it’s against me.
“I think sleeping with Skye is tantamount to stabbing him in the back, as far as he’s concerned. He won’t forgive this.”
Her eyebrow raises. “Not even if you and Skye develop into something serious? What if things don’t end badly?”
I snort and give Doc a pointed look. “When do things ever not end badly?”
“That’s a pretty negative way to think about things, isn’t it?”
Her question makes me scoff. “It’s not like a lot of positive things have happened lately.”
She jots something in her book and raises her eyes to me again. “Since I know you haven’t been taking your medication, can I assume you’ve been engaging in…other forms of therapy and self-medication?”
That’s her not so subtle way of asking if I got new ink and have been drinking and fucking my way through my nights. I push my hands back through my hair, feeling the burn of my fresh tat as the tight skin stretches across my rib cage with the movement. “I saw Jeremy Thursday night.”
The frown on her face is one I’ve seen many times. “Did it make you feel better?”
I start to answer yes, but then realize that might not be true. I may have felt relief for the ten hours the needle was on my skin, but even that couldn’t completely eradicate the inner turmoil over the Skye situation. For the first time ever, the pain wasn’t the ultimate relief.
“If I tell you it did, can we just drop it?”
Doc smiles, and it’s clear she sees right through me. “If you tell me it did, you would be lying, and therapy only works if you’re honest with me and yourself.”
“Well, in that case, I guess I am epically fucked, because it didn’t work, not the way it always has in the past.”
She leans forward and locks eyes with me. “That’s because this time it’s about more than just your past demons, this is about your future.”
My future…
This is about my future—with Skye, with Savage, with the entire Hawke family. I could lose everyone and everything, including my own sanity.
Word spreads fast when something bad happens, especially when that something bad happens to someone very much in the public eye. I got my wish when the office called me in to help with the clinic after I had lunch with Nora.
I was visiting with one of my friends who works in the surgical ICU while I was on my break when she got the call.
Within five minutes of the former mayor being wheeled into the emergency room, the hospital was buzzing, and I was in the elevator on the way down, my phone to my ear trying to reach Gabe.
Come on, Gabe. Pick up.
Straight to voicemail.
Again. And again. And again.
The green marble floor of the emergency room is slippery from the rain but I run anyway. Gunshot wounds to the head usually mean death, and word is, Dunne is barely hanging on
to life.
Where are you, Gabe?
Their relationship is not what I would consider warm and fuzzy. As far as I know, he hasn’t even spoken to his father since he turned eighteen and enlisted. Even after Dunne mysteriously resigned last year, Gabe didn’t mention him or even acknowledge it happened.
He seems perfectly happy to go on living his life as if his father never existed, but this could very well be the end, and he doesn’t need something to feel guilty about later. He has enough guilt as it is.
I slide to a stop outside one of the treatment rooms in the ER. It isn’t hard to guess which one contains the former mayor; the two uniformed cops and a man in a suit, who is probably a detective, standing outside the room are a dead giveaway.
Dr. Coleman, one of the trauma surgeons, steps from the room and turns to the officers. “He didn’t make it.”
The officers nod and mention something about evidence collection, but I’m not listening anymore.
Gabe’s father is dead.
Fuck. How do I tell him?
Before I can grab Dr. Coleman to try to get more information about what happened, he disappears down the hall toward the waiting room, leaving me standing dumbstruck in front of the door to the treatment room. One of the officers opens the door and sticks his head in. Muffled words are spoken between him and someone remaining in the room. When he’s done, he lets the door close and disappears down the hallway with his partner and the other man.
I step forward on shaky legs and push the door open. Two nurses and the respiratory therapist who are still in the room glance up at me but immediately return to their work, unconcerned with my presence.
I’ve seen plenty of dead bodies, but this, this is so fucking different.
Brian Dunne is laid out on the table. He looks so damn much like Gabe, I have to force myself to take a breath.
I try to separate myself from the fact this is Gabe’s father and examine it clinically.
The respiratory therapist removes the circuit from endotracheal tube, leaving the tube protruding from his mouth. She says something to one of the nurses who is recording the inventory on the code cart, then brushes past me and out the door with her equipment.
