Page 13 of Trigger's Forever

That name meant nothing to me until it was the first and last word my Red spoke to me that day.

Now I’d kill to hear her say Jamie, or Trigger, or anything at this point. I just want her to talk in general. Until that happens, until she decides she’s ready to speak, Iwillcontinue to talk to her regardless of if I get an answer or not.

I clear my throat, leaning forward with my elbows on the table. I gently lay the pictures down. “Ready to eat?” My eyes meet her honey brown ones as they follow my every move. She waits silently as I take the styrofoam boxes out of the bag. “I got you a grilled cheese and soup.”

After grabbing plates and silverware from the kitchen, I set her sandwich in front of her with a bowl of the chicken tortilla soup I know she loves.

I lean over the back of her chair to bring the extra tortilla strips closer to her reach. “Be careful, it's hot,” I gently warn.

It seems extreme and a tad over the top, but I would rather cut off my own arm than ever see Pebbles in any type of pain ever again, even if it was something as small as burning her tongue on hot food. A flip switched in my brain that day in the cabin.

I live and breathe for this woman.

I’ve always had an addictive personality. Cars. Jewelry. Bikes. Antiques. I became obsessed with finding old things and making them beautiful again. That’s what led me to the pawn shop. It’s an outlet for my obsession. Some may call what I feel for Pebbles an obsession, but I call it an addiction. I’ve been kidding myself to think it started that day at the cabin. In reality, it’s been since the first day I got my hands on her. I was gone for good.

Pebbles is a different kind of obsession. She’s always been perfect. Unlike the cars and bikes, I didn’t have to restore her or mold her into something else. I bet she would most likely argue that fact now, but she’s still every bit of perfect in my eyes.

Just like every day for the past two weeks, we eat lunch in semi silence. I ramble on about my day and Pebbles listens, quietly. Before, there were few times you could get anything in. Pebbles loved to talk, and I was the one that loved to listen. Until she comes back to me, I will fill the silence. I owe her that.

I’m in the middle of telling her all about a guy that offered me a measly ten thousand for the Bel Air I just finished restoring when Tank walks in through the kitchen door.

“What’s up, man?” I say, giving Tank a chin lift.

“Hey, Trig. Heather,” Tank greets us both, coming around the counter and stopping at the end of the long table.

“Everything okay?” I ask, Tank is a hard mother fucker to read. He could be happier than a pig in shit and someone could mistake him for being pissed.

“I just got off the phone with Flame. He’s picking Bunny’s grandma and sister up from the airport.”

Pebbles head whips around to look in Tank’s direction.

“I didn’t realize Bunny had any family left,” I say, shocked.

Tank nods, rubbing the back of his neck with his beefy hand.

“Yeah, that’s why he couldn’t go with you today. He didn’t want to say anything to anyone in case it didn’t work out. And he didn’t want anyone ruining the surprise for Bunny. He only told his mom and me.”

“Well, shit. Good for them,” I say, my eyes meeting Pebbles dejected ones.

I know that, deep down, Pebbles blames herself for everything, even if she hasn’t said the words out loud. Every time someone brings up either Flame or Bunny, the same crestfallen expression settles on her face.

It makes me want to commit murder.

Flame has been over while I’ve been here and I’ve watched him try and talk to her. Nothing seems to work. Now that I think of it, I don’t think Pebbles has seen Bunny since the incident. Unless she’s been by and no one told me.

I make a note in the back of my mind to set that up. Maybe it would help Pebbles to know that Bunny is okay.

“Today go good?” Tank casually asks, not giving Pebbles any clues as to where I was.

Tiny, Ringer, Razor, and I drove the forty-five minutes to the prison where they’re keeping the slimy motherfucker that hurt my woman.

We pulled some strings to get a visit with an old cellmate of Ringer’s so we could get some information and put a plan in motion.

Over my dead body will that worthless piece of fucking shit breathe the same air on this planet as my woman.

I nod my head in answer to Tank’s question. I don’t care to talk about any of the details in front of Pebbles. Something as simple as his name could be a setback in her healing journey, and that is not a risk I’m willing to take.

I look down to the table just as Pebbles pushes herself away from it. She gathers all of her garbage and tiptoes into the kitchen.

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