Page 34 of Gunner

My heart thunders in fear. I’d heard there was a party tonight and through asking around, I figured out how to get in. I’d dressed the part. I didn’t realize that I was this close to missing him. Forever.

Shouldorshouldn’tcan get fucked. I want this man. I couldn’t explain it to myself. I still can’t. His saving me, a bad man from worse, isn’t enough. That doesn’t bind me to him in the way that I feel that I need to be bound. My father paid him and let him go. A life for a life. The debt is paid. There’s absolutely nothing to explain why I can’t just let him go. There’svery little that I’ve done in my life that wasn’t calculated. I was always prepared and meticulous.

My legs lose all their power, and I slowly sink down, dropping to my knees on the hard floor in front of him.

I set my hands on his parted knees and peer into his face.

He’s fierce. Wild. He looks ready to tear the world apart or burn it down for no reason at all. “Get up.”

“I’m sorry for coming here like this. I knew that you were obsessed and possessive and maybe even a little bit deranged, but I didn’t think it would drive you to violence. I just wanted you to hear me. I needed to say all the things I should have said that morning in my kitchen, but logical, rational me couldn’t do it.”

His hands grasp my upper arms and haul me up beside him on the bed, his touch hot and thrilling and not the least bit gentle.

“I said, get up. You can’t be on your knees, bowed before a man like me. I won’t have it.” He sucks in a massive breath like he’s struggling to keep his violence in check, but I know it’s not that.

“Stop saying that. Stop saying you’re not worthy. You’re no less human than anyone else. I don’t care about your black soul or the blood staining your hands. I want you to let me inside.” It was crazy. I was crazy, but now I know who he is and why he’s been stalking me everything seems to make sense. Or at least it does in my mind. We are linked, our lives tied together whether we like it or not.

Fated.

He groans, so fucking tortured. “I was leaving because you’re right. The minute I stepped in your house, I put you in danger. The risk is unacceptable. I never should have done it. I couldn’t explain to myself why I did except that for just one night, I wanted to know.”

“Know what?”

Oh god, oh god.I’m not prepared for his answer. I’m not ready to be this wrecked. I can’t stop it. It’s going to happen. It’s already happened. We’re here because we’ve been walking this path for five years.

I’m that unsung song, that folktale, that story that’s been waiting for the singer, the writer, the storyteller.

Nothing is ever going to be the same.

Chapter 12

Gunner

Diletta puts her hand on my shoulder. Her entire face is gentle, her body at ease. She’s brushed up against me. Touched me intentionally. This is the second time and the world hasn’t imploded.

The last thing I could ever be termed is a superstitious man, but I can sense that darkness like another entity. A thing, a force, living inside of me. It demanded me early as a sacrifice and I gave myself up to it in order to survive.

Have I ever done one truly selfless, good thing?

When I saved Adolfo from dying, it was because I saw an opportunity to get to the top. I paid for that advancement with my own flesh and blood, the smell of burnt skin and hair, charred flesh, and pain that lasted for years. When I kidnapped Diletta from her kidnappers, it was because I’d grown obsessed. I couldn’t live without her.

She could never be mine, but I couldn’t live if I couldn’t see her, watch her, guard her.

She strokes my chin gently, her fingers fluttering against my jawline like they’re trembling butterflies afraid to land. I nearly choke on my own saliva. It’s impossible to swallow easily.

“Know what?” she whispers.

I shiver violently. She snatches the black comforter off the bed, bringing the edges we’re not sitting on up and around me.She takes my face in both hands, palms scalding, and forces me to look into her eyes. The gold sparks snap like burning coals popping late at night in the hearth’s grate of the fires that rich people can afford.

I’m not worthy to look at her like this. To have her kindness. She just covered me up, and now she’s got her skin pressed to my skin. I want to yell at her, shove her away before she can be infected, but the calm in her eyes gentles me.

My lungs loosen.

If she can sit here and relive such a horrifying, painful event and be the one who wants to offer me warmth and comfort, then I can believe in her strength long enough to give her the rest of my wretched honesty.

“Know what it was like to be something more than an animal. I wanted you to fix me. to touch me. I fucking wanted your comfort and compassion and kindness. I could bask in it from afar, witness it all I wanted, but after years, you were the light I couldn’t stop myself from flying into your fire. I’m like every other pathetic man out there. Just one taste. One touch.”

“That’s not like most people at all.”

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