Page 17 of Gabriel's Salvation

Who is this? Stacey?

Unknown number

Wow! You have so many girls that you can't even remember me? Now there was me thinking saving me from my asshole of an ex and spending the whole day together might have been at least slightly memorable.

Me

Oh, believe me it was definitely memorable. Maybe next time I'll let you ride more than just my bike. *Devil emoji*

Unknown number

Who knows, maybe I will.

“Who are you smiling at? Does Gabey have a girlfriend?'' Nate teases as he reaches out and snatches the phone from my hand.

“Hmm, Gabe has a naughty girlfriend,” he laughs as he reads the last message.

“Fuck you! She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just some girl I wanna fuck.'' Even as the words leave my mouth, they leave an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

“Sure sure, I believe you. Many wouldn't, but I do,” Nate laughs, handing me back my phone. I tuck it back into my pocket and continue driving.

We make it back to the house and as soon as we pull up I see that uneasy look on Nate's face, the one I had pretty much every day for the first year I lived here alone. That face that lets me know he's got a million memories, none of them good, flying through his mind.

“He’s gone, Nate. Gone and never coming back. We're safe,'' I whisper as I reach out and squeeze his shoulder reassuringly.

“He might be gone, but his memories and the fear live on,” Nate replies, more so to himself than me.

Stepping out to give him a moment alone to compose his thoughts, I head out, get the bags and take them inside. Nate follows behind a few minutes later.

“It's so much smaller than I remember,” he says as he looks around.

“Wow, this is new,” he says pointing to the brand new doors separating the kitchen from the living room.

I don't mention that the reason I swapped it out was because it still had the holes from the times Dad hit or kicked it in a drunken rage.

“And this wasn’t this color before… was it?” he asks, pointing to the now gray walls.

“Yeah, thought they could do with some color,” I lie. Not revealing the real reason I painted them such a dark color was to hide the many blood stains that were ingrained in the once white walls.

“Where shall I put my stuff?” he finally asks.

“Erm, in there, in your old room. I've bought a new bed for you and new carpet as well.

“Oh? Where do you sleep then?” he asks looking genuinely confused.

“In the other bedroom.” I see his eyes widen in surprise, knowing that the only other bedroom in this place used to belong to our father.

“Yeah, it's bigger,” I lie again. Refusing to admit the real reason I sleep there is to remind myself he’s never coming back. That I'm the man of the house now. I tried sleeping in our old room when I first moved back, but I couldn't stand lying in our old room, falling asleep staring at the same crack in the ceiling I used to when we were kids. Putting my clothes away in the same wardrobe I used to hide in as a child. Or listening to the same creak in the door I used to listen out for as a child knowing it meant danger was on the horizon.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense, I guess.” Nate replies with a shrug.

I leave him alone to unpack his things, grab a beer and head outside. Sitting down on one of the old deck chairs, I pull out my phone and find more messages from Stacey. I save her number then begin scrolling through.

Cock Tease

So is that an invite?

Or perhaps a promise?

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