Over ten years, and she’s still alive in my fucking head. It took me years to take another woman to bed, and I cried like a fucking baby once I was done. Guilt and grief ate away at me until there was nothing left but my demons. “Fuck, look at her bending over knowing her pussy is on display. Three fingers, you think?” He holds up his hand, thrusting his fingers in a forward motion. “I say a whole fist.” Idiot chuckles to him like the Beavis to his Butthead. The pretty boy punk sticks four fingers up and adds a licking motion above them.
It’s fucking torture being around these fucks. Where the hell is Jameson when I need him? Probably spying on his doctor woman. He’s fucking obsessed. Unbeknownst to her, he’s been following her home at night to make sure she gets there safely.
Whipping my arm out, I grab PB’s fingers and gives them a quick snap, enjoying the way they bend too far back, making them crunch, relishing in the bones cracking. Grabbing my beer, I chug it to the sounds of him howling. “You broke my fucking fingers.”
“You’re lucky it wasn’t your face.” Joe chuckles, taking the seat I vacate. Idiot dives out of reach as I march past him across the club. Gripping Gracie by the wrist, I tug her ass down to the room I keep here for us.
“Baby, what’s the rush?” she singsongs, knowing full well she’s been flaunting her ass all over the club to get a rise out of me. Well, she got one, and it’s soon to be down her throat.
I’m not too fond of the dawn hours. Every fucker is asleep but me. Memories taunt me. I want to crawl outta my skin for one fucking night and know what peaceful dreams feel like again. “Why don’t you ever cuddle with me?” Gracie’s husky sleep-filled voice asks, her body moving closer to mine, seeking comfort, the intimacy I don’t want to share with her…or anyone. Willa…Willa…Willa.
I want to tell her to leave, but I’m not that big of an asshole. I don’t like the man I am to her, with her. I fucking despise men who treat their women like a garage to park their motor in, but no matter how much I try to force myself to feel more, look at her and want to hold her, want to call her my ol’ lady, put a ring on her finger and babies in her belly, the very thought makes acid wash through my veins and settle in my chest like poison. She’s not Willa. No one will ever be Willa. I’m a cunt. “There’s a storm coming tomorrow,” I say, changing the subject. I try not to let her shuddering sigh affect me.
“Do you think that serial killer is out there, hurting someone else?” she whimpers.
“I think we’re closing in on him. It’s not something you need to worry about.” I fucking hope we get some leads and soon.
“Because you’ll keep me safe?”
My hands ball into fists. I’ve made that promise before and failed.
“Animal has his people on it,” I say, my jaw tense. Her fingers curl around my bicep, her breath heating my skin.
“Will you ever love me like I love you?” My body solidifies beside her. I know she needs reassurance and affection, but the words lodge in my throat, refusing to be given life. Is it more cruel to be truthful or pretend? Another man can give her all the things I can’t. I’m taking her best years selfishly. I have to end this. “It’s okay.” She sniffles. “If this is all you can give me, I’ll take it.”
Fuck.
“Grace…” The words fail me, so I dodge them. “I need to go check out my house. Make sure it’s good for the storm coming,” I lie.
“I need to check on my mom,” she murmurs. “Will I see you tonight?”
“Yeah. Or tomorrow, yeah?” I jump up and slip into my jeans. There’s an emptiness in the air between us. The ugly truth laid bare.
“I’ll take whatever you can give me, Gabe.” She sits up, clutching the duvet, refusing to use self-preservation and protect her damn heart from the monster that is me. “Don’t try to leave me for my own good. I’d rather have moments of you than nothing at all. Even if you can never love me, I’ll put in the love for us both.”
The worse part of what she’s saying is the fact that I’m selfish enough to accept what she has to give, knowing I’m taking her best years and giving her nothing but my cock.
I lean down, cupping her cheeks, dropping a kiss to her mouth. “See you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Thirty-Three
Gabe
Carnage. Trees down. The power went out at some point, and despite knowing I should have met up and checked in with Gracie, I ignored her call and didn’t bother calling back. I’m going to end things, let her find a man who will take care of her, answer the phone when she calls. I check the rearview mirror to see a black sedan parked outside my house, tailing me.