Page 40 of Touch of Innocence
There was a struggle on that face, obvious even as shrouded by shadow as it was, and for a moment, just a split second, Gunner hoped to think that he might have gotten through to Sam. But then Sam shook his head, and he took a step back away from Gunner, who rose to his feet on legs that wanted to shake so much that he had to lock his knees to keep from falling over.
“Get out,” Sam finally managed, his voice coming out in a low hiss. “Get the fuck off of my property, Gunner. I never want to see you again.”
It wasn’t Sam’s property, and Gunner knew that. It was Ben’s, and Isaac’s, but Sam certainly lived there. Anyway, once Sam told Ben and Isaac about everything that Gunner had done, surely they would agree with him anyway. Surely they would be waiting right there in line behind Sam to condemn him. They had welcomed him in, and he had betrayed them. Put their way of life at risk.
So Gunner couldn’t do anything but nod his acceptance. Where he was going to go, he had no idea. With numb, cold, barely responsive fingers, Gunner packed up his few things from the place which had been his home for less than a month, but which he had allowed himself to hope might be longer.
In a depressingly short time, he had it back to how it had been when he’d first collapsed into bed that very first day when Ben had extended his hospitality. Gunner looked around, felt the sting in the very back of his eyes, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he blinked.
After a while, he wasn’t even sure how long, he stepped away. Moved out of the barn and then had to admit that, on some level, he’d been stalling. Part of him had hoped that Sam would take it back, that Sam would remember that they had promised each other more, that they would be together.
But Sam had judged him. It was over. Sam, proud, headstrong Sam, would never take back the words once he had said them. It was over, really and truly over, and Gunner walked off of the property with his heart so heavy it felt almost like his boots tread on it over and over again.
Only once did he look back. Only once did he allow himself to have some hope, glancing back over his shoulder to see if Sam was on the patio, or maybe glancing through a window at him. But the patio mocked him with its emptiness, and the windows shone too brightly with the reflected sun for him to tell if Sam watched.
But why would he? It was probably just a relief for Sam to get Gunner out of there. Gunner, who had wanted too much that Sam could never give. And maybe that was for the best, given how many secrets had been kept between them.
Well, now there were none, and maybe that was more honest, but it had certainly led to exactly what Gunner had known would happen. He turned back around, turned his face to the sun, and walked.
He thought about walking right to Mike’s, but what point would there be in that? His bike wasn’t ready, and Gunner had no place to stay. No real desire to stay, now that he had lost everything.
So where to go? And then he remembered. Austin, less than an hour’s drive outside of the town boundaries. Austin, where a new life beckoned, called him to it. Austin, where he had been searching out a fresh, clean start.
There was no reason that he couldn’t have that fresh start. And at the bar, where he had a job waiting for him, there wouldn’t be any judgemental eyes. No one who worked in such a shady place would be any better than he was, nor would they pretend to be.
Such a place was where he belonged. He had dirtied his hands when he’d taken up that knife and walked into the liquor store—when he had followed that path. Once, he had thought he might be able to walk away, but he knew better now.
He was tainted, and maybe it was better this way. Without his bike, without love, all alone, Gunner walked and walked until the sun was starting to hang heavy in the sky. He walked, and whenever a car came along, he poked out his thumb at it.
Eventually, someone stopped, and Gunner didn’t let himself look back at the town which had so briefly offered him respite. He didn’t look back, because if he did, he was sure that he would never be able to make himself leave.
