Page 62 of Forget Me Not

“If he’s always looking out for you then why did he make a deal with my father to break us apart? Huh?”

“He wouldn’t,” she insists, though I notice he remains satisfyingly silent.

“Yeah, he would. He did. Two seconds after my father got him released from prison he was at the hospital, at your side, manipulating you and convincing you to leave me behind. Because that’s what my father wanted. What my father paid him a hundred thousand dollars to accomplish.” I snort. “That life he built from nothing? That great change he made for himself? It cost him something alright. A hundred grand and his fucking soul.”

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Cooper

A million and one thoughts collide inside my head. Reed’s father hates me. A hundred grand worth of hate. Reed hates Gun. And Gun? Gun was in prison. For another misguided attempt to save me from something I can never escape. And I can’t even fault him for it. Because on some screwed up level, I’m grateful. Grateful he went after the man who damaged me more than any one other person ever has. Grateful, he took a stand for all the others who came after me. Grateful, because maybe now, the damage has stopped. Maybe he has been stopped.

I look to Gun, anguish ripping at his perfectly flawed face.

Then Reed. Worry is creeping in, taking over the smug expression he wore when he thought he was victorious.

“Look, I know it’s hard to accept. But I’m sure if you think back, if you replay your memories of that time, you’ll see that what I’m saying is true. That Gun set a trap on my father’s request...and you fell right in.” Reed says softly, coxing me back to this reality where everything I thought I knew is crumbling right before my eyes.

“How would he have done that?” I ask, heart breaking in my chest with every second that passes. “What do you think he did when he showed up? Huh?”

“I don’t know, Coop,” he admits, helplessly running his hand through his hair repeatedly. “But he had to have done or said something. Why else would you have left? You wouldn’t have. You would have stayed. You would have fought for us. I know you would have.Iwould have.”

And then, the fog clears. I can see everything clearly, maybe for the first time in my whole life. Gun’s been keeping secrets. But they weren’t his. They were mine.

“I didn’t,” the words escape on a single breath. “I didn’t fight.”

“What?” Hurt and disbelief crowd together in his eyes, turning them a dark sapphire blue.

“I didn’t fight for us,” I say, tears forming and subsequently spilling over, “After Gun showed up, I just accepted it. You would never remember. It was done. And I needed to move on.” I gasp for air, feeling breath and strength drain out of me faster than I can put it back. “Gun never kept me from you. Not once. He never said or did anything to make me leave. To convince me to let you go. It wasn’t him.” I turn to Gun. “It wasn’t you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Gun

7Years Earlier

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She seems frail, more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her. Pain stabs at my chest and it hurts to breathe. Walking as softly as I can, I move into her room and sit beside her bed. Mags said she’s been sleeping all morning. Sleep. That’s all she does. And cry.

My fingers trace gently over her arm, down to her wrist. It’s bandaged heavily and her hand below is swollen and red. I bend forward and place my lips carefully on her skin, as if kissing this booboo could magically heal it somehow.

“Gun?” Her voice is weak, but nothing sounds more promising than my name from her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, “I should have been here sooner.”

“No, you shouldn’t be here at all,” she croaks, her lids barely high enough to reveal her bloodshot eyes, “you’re supposed to be in Georgia. Thinking of yourself, doing what’s best for you.”

I cradle her cheek in my palm, warm tears making her soft skin moist to my touch. “You’re crazy. The best thing for me has always been you. Always. That’s never going to change, so stop making yourself out to be the bad guy. You’renotthe bad guy.”

“But I’m always screwing up your life, Gun.”

“No.” I shake my head, biting down hard to keep from falling apart myself. “You’re always saving it.”

“You’re a liar,” she whimpers meekly. “But I love you anyway.”

“I love you, too, Cooper.” I watch as her lashes flutter and her lids sink down again. She’s asleep. And given the current dose of meds she’s on, I doubt she’ll remember any of this. But it’s okay. I will. And I’ll be here every time she wakes up from now on. Until she doesn’t forget. Until she knows I’m here. That I’m going to take care of her. That it’s safe to stay awake now.

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