Page 100 of Gunner

I loved Gunner. Which was insane because I didn’t even know his real name. But I had fallen in love with him over the past few weeks. Hell, I was already half in love with him before I moved to the clubhouse.

I fell in love the day at the diner, when I saw him with Penny. When he told me he was disappointed I had left him unprotected. He had wanted me to march over to his table and stake my claim.

But I couldn’t.

He wasn’t mine.

I didn’t get to keep the people in my life. Not if I let them in too far. It was why Missy and I were still friends. We were like sisters, but we weren’t inseparable. We had different lives, neither of us pushing the other to share more than we were comfortable with.

We both avoided getting too close. Keeping each other at arm’s length so as not to burden the other with our trauma. It was the same with Corbin. Once I had dealt with my grief, I pushed him away, distancing myself so I didn’t lose him either. I was tired of losing people from not caring enough. So instead, I cared too much and pushed people away.

Pulling into the driveway and exiting my car, I paused, looking around. For weeks I’d had the feeling of being watched whenever I stepped out of the house. It was probably just paranoia from interacting with so many people I normally didn’t. When I saw nothing out of the ordinary, I grabbed my bags and entered my home. Everything looked exactly the same as I left it.

Nothing had been disturbed.

Nothing was amiss.

Nothing had changed.

Story of my life.

Was it too much to ask for something to come in and turn my life upside down for just a little bit?

Someone did, and you walked away.

Oh, shut up.

Dropping my bags in the laundry room to deal with later, I opened my windows to release the stale air in the house. Then I set about straightening up a few things and wiping down the layer of dust that covered every surface.

Cash was due to come by today. King wasn’t sure he would, but I needed to be prepared just in case. Making the step to get therapy was never easy. Especially with men. More so for Alpha men like the Silver Shadows.

So, I waited.

And waited.

Fifteen minutes before his session was deemed to end, there was a knock on my door. Shaking my head, I set my book down and stood from my chair. Walking to the front door, I opened it and there he stood. His eyes were hollow and ringed with dark circles. The smell of whiskey seeped from his pores. I wondered what time he started drinking this morning. Was he even sober enough to be here?

“Hello,” I greeted, opening the door and giving him room to enter, still unsure if he would. He surprised me when he grunted and moved inside. Following him, I waited for him to sit. He chose the chair, and I had to hold in my amusement. It was a common stereotype that people believed you had to lay on a couch during a therapy session. Cash made it clear with his selection that he was not interested in that.

“Would you like a drink? Before you ask, I am not offering alcohol.”

Another grunt, and he sat back in the chair. I moved to the corner of the couch and sat down.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Anything you would like to talk about?”

“No.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“King ordered me to.”

“What did King order you to do?”

“To make an appointment with you. He didn’t say I had to talk.”

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