Page 31 of Gunner

She claimed me. Publicly. Those words are like a sacred oath, and if I was cut to ribbons before, I’m obliterated now.

Before I can do something like cave in and have a meltdown for this whole room to see, I let out a growl and scoop her into my arms. She twists her arms around my neck and clings to me, face tucked into my shoulder.

Despite the wild show I just gave them, the room bursts into loud applause and stomps of approval.

Tyrant spoke true. There’s been far worse in this room. All-out brawls. Pool cues snapped over backs. Guys knocked out.A few of the club bitches once had a catfight that involved beer bottles getting smashed over each other and bloody claw marks raked into skin. Once, in the time of Zale, a man even drew a gun and fired into the ceiling. He was ousted from the club. You don’t bring your damn weapons to a party when you’re surrounded by your brothers. Fist fights are acceptable, but bullets, tempers, and alcohol don’t mix well—Zale might have been a loose cannon, but that was one of his rules that we stuck to.

I might be leaving.

I might stay.

Either way, those loud hoots and hollers, the boots banging against the hardwood floor, and cheers from the women, follow me down the hall to my private room.

I set Diletta down carefully inside, then storm over and slam the door closed, leaning against it with my arms crossed.

We’re having this out and we’re having it out now. It won’t be tender. It sure as fuck won’t be sweet. She thinks she’s a match for me, but she has no idea what kind of man I am. It’s time to set her straight.

I owe her the truth.

Chapter 11

Diletta

I’ve never needed a reminder that this man is one shade above a wild animal. Now, I’ve been so stupid that I’ve trapped myself in a small room with him. At least there’s a tiny window on the far side, past a queen bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. The walls are bare, white drywall on three sides. The far one with the window is brick. The floorboards are the same hardwood as out there.

Out there, where it was safe.

My brain warns that I could be in danger, but the rational side of me still refuses to kick in. The metallic bite of rage is real. He’s still breathing heavily. He could have killed that man, all because of me. I woke something in him, primal, dangerous, and metaphorically blood soaked. I remember the first time I saw his face in that shoe store, and I thought to myself, that there was a man designed for enjoying violence.

But then, there’s the other side of what happened out there. The other reason that he’s breathing hard. I’m across the room from him and I think he put that distance between us intentionally. I want to hug him, hard. Again. His naked shame and pain were out there for every single person to see. He stripped himself down in order to cover me and it was clear that no one knew about those scars. He didn’t want them to, but then he bared himself for me without a second thought.

“Gunner… I’m- I’m so sor—”

“Shut up,” he growls. His pulse beats jaggedly at the golden skin of his throat. He’s ferocious, shaking, a man feeling all of it when I think that he’s used to feeling nothing at all.

“That’s too far,” I seethe, setting aside concern for myself. He wouldn’t hurt me. I intrinsically know that. “You can’t tell me to shut—”

“Your real name is Diletta Cosmo. Your father is Luciano Cosmo.” He glares at me, cold and hard while my heart plummets to the floor and cracks wide open with shock.

“H-how?” At least that one word gets past my constricted throat.

He slaps a palm against the wall as his chest heaves. He makes no move to steady me. He tears his eyes away like he can’t look at me either. They stray to the wall as he turns his face.

“I know, because I was there. Not when you were kidnapped, but after. Adolfo told me to keep an eye on his shitfuck of a son. Romeo is impetuous. He thought because his father was Don, that he was owed the world. Anything he wanted, he took. He saw you, wanted you, had his father’s men kidnap you. He told them it was an order from the Don. He made up some conflict between your father and his, said it was a matter of honor. He said Luciano wouldn’t listen unless we had his daughter for bargaining. When he had you, though, he went straight to his father and confessed everything he’d done. I didn’t know about any of it. I was too close to Adolfo, his personal bodyguard. I was with him all the time, so there were moments I couldn’t always be watching Romeo.”

He pauses, he’s still facing the wall avoiding my eyes.

“Adolfo was enraged at his son’s stupidity. While he tried to work out how to avoid a war over his actions, I was reassigned to immediate damage control in Romeo’s house. You never saw me, but I saw you. You were locked in that room and the second you turned your face to the camera and I stared into your tearstained eyes… it was over for me.”

I can taste his words, heated and heady, scalding between us. “What was over?” I whisper, trembling like he did that night when he went into shock in my bedroom.

He ignores my question. Or maybe he’s taking the long way round in answering. “I made sure you were fed. Given clean clothes. Taken down the hall to the bathroom to have a proper shower. You didn’t want to eat or move or do anything. You were so scared that—”

It’s my turn to cut him off. “I was more angry, than I was afraid. I knew my father would find me. I was being kept alive for a reason. If you want someone dead, the mafia doesn’t piss around with that. I was trembling because I was angry. I cried because I couldn’t hold those tears in. Yes, I was afraid, but for my father. For his men. I didn’t know what was happening. But every one of those tears that fell were from pure frustration.”

His chest heaves with a shaky inhale. “You have no idea what seeing you cry did. No one’s tears had ever bothered me.Nothingbothered me, do you understand? I watched you for days. Nights. I couldn’t explain it, but you felt more like mine with every passing second.”

“That’s something only a psychopath would say,” I fire at him, cold and unfair.

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