I place my hand over his, covering it and looking at him. Everything seems to go silent around us and it’s just us. “If I could choose, Alec, and if you weren’t considered family to me, I would choose you. I want you to know that.”
“I never went into anything serious. Never brought any women around you, because none of them compare to you,” he says in almost a whisper.
The food arrives and I remove my hand, breaking the spell we were just under.
“You should try. Honestly, you should try, Alec. I don’t know where this thing will go with him, but you shouldn’t wait for me.”
“I won’t sit back and watch you go back to him.” He picks at his fries, while the rage radiates from him.
“He will find me, Alec. You know he will.” His lips thin at my words, but he doesn’t say anything in return. “Why did you never tell me?” I ask him, wanting to know.
“Your father made me promise not to.”
“Of course he did,” I mutter. “Why did you go along with it?”
“He raised me. He was the closest thing to family I ever had. You know our beliefs… we are taught to respect family above all else. That won’t change, but I can’t sit back and watch anymore. He told me I could have you. I waited, biding my time, and look where it’s gotten me.” He flips his plate over, and the food spills everywhere. The crockery bounces once and then shatters on the floor.
“Did you not know about the Reid contract?” I ask him, because I’m feeling quite confused.
“It was whispered about. Your father used to reassure me Gunner wouldn’t want you, and it came down to his choice.”
“He chose me?” I ask him.
“It was Gunner’s choice if the contract was fulfilled. And you fell right into his devil arms.” Alec stands and throws money on the counter and walks off. I sit there unsure of what’s going on, and what exactly just happened. Picking up some of the money, I take enough to make a phone call.
“Everly Thorne…” my father’s voice rings through the phone, hopeful.
“He isn’t my uncle?” I ask Father, holding onto the phone.
“How…” He goes silent for a few beats before confirming my question, “No. No he is not.”
“How could you keep this from me?” I ask him, my voice turning into one of baffled ignorance. “Do I really mean so little to you that you hide such things from me all the time?”
“Everly—”
“No, you can’t undo what you’ve done. It’s sad. This makes me see you differently.” A few tears leave my eyes and run down my cheeks. I swipe them away angrily.
“Your husband has been asking for you, Everly. You need to see him.”
“How dare you.”
“Do you know, Everly? Do you know where he is?”
“Of course I don’t. I’m with Alec.”
“You need to come back. Come back home to your husband, Everly.”
“Why?”
“He’s in the hospital. He was shot.” The phone receiver drops from my hand and I hear my father’s voice calling my name.
After a few seconds attempting to get my mind back into the now, I pick up the receiver and hang up on my father then dial Gunner’s number, which I know off the top of my head. Much like I know each curve of his body, every muscular ridge, every single feature. It rings, and rings, and when someone answers I almost drop the damn thing again.
“Gunner Reid’s phone. He’s busy right now.” She giggles. “Who can I say is calling?” She giggles again and I want to slap that giggle right out of her mouth. I hear his deep voice in the background—he’s alive and with another woman who’s giggling at him like a stupid little schoolgirl.
“Where is my husband?” I seethe into the phone.
Her giggling stops straight away, and I hear the shuffling before his deep voice rings through the line.
“Everly, where are you?”
“Who was that, Gunner?”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Everly?”
“Who is it?”
“Where are you?” he questions back.
“Are you in the hospital?”
“No. I was. Now I am at our place. And soon, Everly, I will find you. Let’s make it easier on Alec. If you come home to me now I won’t kill him straight away.”
“You’re fine?” I ask.
“Yes, I am.”
A sigh of relief leaves me. “What happened?”
“I was shot at his place, Everly.”
“Alec’s been with me,” I defend.
“Of course he has. And tell me, Everly, would you choose him over me? Over your husband?”
“I still have bruises all over my body.”
A man walks past and looks at me before he continues walking, and I wonder why he wouldn’t ask if I am all right.
He says my name when I don’t continue. “Everly.”
“I need time,” I reply.
“Time is not what I want to give you.”
“Luckily for me, you don’t get a choice,” I say, turning around ready to hang up the phone.