“Libby?” I bring my hand under her chin. “I don’t know how to solve riddles like these. Say what you want to say.”
“It’s me.” Her words are a whisper and a snap in one, delivered in hurt and anger. “I’mhere. I thought you’d come back for me.”
“You?” Instead of crouching, I drop to my knees and cup her hips.
“Yes. It’s like we’re children again, and now you’re running out and leaving me standing at the top of the stairs. It doesn’t even cross your mind to stay with me. You’ve always been the guy to run alone, to forget me and move on with your life like I don’t matter. You stared into my eyes on the way out of the club, and you’re doing the same thing again. You’ll pat my ass and drop me off at my apartment, then you’ll just…” She flicks her hand toward the door, then brings that same hand up to swipe an errant tear from the top of her unharmed cheek. “Leave.”
“Libby…” I cup her luscious hips in both of my hands, and though she tries to deny me with a shake of her head, I scoop her forward until she comes off the bed and ends up sitting in my lap the way she did last night. “Hey.” I use my nose to turn her face. To bring her eyes back to me. “I didn’t say I was leaving without you.”
“You…” Her gaze widens. “What?”
“I told Olly to meet us at your apartment in an hour; isn’t that enough time for you to pack your stuff?” I cast a glance around my room. “I told him an hour, and I’m finished here in ten. That means you get five times more time than I did, to collect your girly trinkets and every pair of tight jeans you can find.”
“Gunner… I–”
“You’re coming with me, right?” I stare into her eyes. “You said you wanted to come with me when I was eleven. You said you wanted nothing else except for me to come back to get you. You said you loved that boy, and dreamt of him for twenty years. Were they just words?”
Her lips quiver as she shakes her head.
“Are you going to bow out now when I’m right here in front of you? I’m giving you time to pack your bags. I’m asking you to come with me.”
“I can’t just…” Her heart races with panic – fear of losing me? Or losing them? “I worked so hard for my station. I worked for so long. I love my squad, Gunner. I love those guys, because after you were gone, I had no family. I was all alone until I wasn’t. Nowthey’remy family. I can’t just pack a bag and disappear on them.”
It didn’t occur to me that she wouldn’t come. It didn’t even present in my mind as an option.
“So you’re…” My stomach drops when fresh tears spill over her cheeks. “You’re not going to come? You’ll stay here, even knowing I’m alive? All of those nights you cried can be fixed, but you won’t…”
“Why do you expect me to leave?” she asks. “Why must I give up my life? You could come here.”
“Uh…” My breath catches. It’s almost like she slammed a fist into my solar plexus. “Because of Griffin. Because I built that man up from the ground. People need me, Lib. They need their jobs, the world needs our tech. I can’t just stop turning up.”
“And people need me here.” Her jaw wobbles, but she still brings a hand up and swipes a thumb along my cheek. “I builtmeup from the ground. I made my name a little less tarnished. I earned respect. I created a family. The people in this town need the police, and the little girls in this town need me to show them they can do anything the boys can do.”
“What are you… you’re saying no?” My heart breaks. It aches in my chest and gives a final thud when a fresh tear slides over her cheek. “You’re choosing them over me.”
She shakes her head. “You’re choosing Theo over me. Don’t you see how unfair that is? You expectmeto make the move. You expectmeto make the sacrifices.”
“But…” Winded, I sit back onto my ass, but I bring her with me so she remains in my lap and her hands rest on my shoulders. “I already made my sacrifices. I lived in an alleyway and sold pictures of the one and only person on this planet I had left to love. I said goodbye to you thousands of times.” I take her hand and press the palm to my chest. “Those were my sacrifices, Lib. A man can’t be expected to say goodbye to you again.”
She drops her gaze and closes her hand to scrunch my shirt under white knuckles. “I’m sorry, Gunner.”
I thought being rejected by the Bishop brothers was bad. I went into that office so fucking mad at them, so willing to tear them apart and move on with my life, but when they presented their united front and spoke of brotherhood, despite my stubbornness and willing myself not to get attached, I still felt the sting when we walked out and no one came running to call us back.
But I had Libby. With her by my side, I can take anything.
But this… while she sits in my lap and willingly says no to being together, this hurts so much more than anything any Bishop has ever done to me.
Like in a dream state, I stare at her back when she leaves with my red sweater. She keeps it like a token. A memory. I close the door when she refuses to give me her eyes or change her mind.
I finish packing in a daze, I call Olly again before he leaves to go to Libby’s apartment, and ninety minutes after that, I sit on a plush leather seat inside an eight-passenger private jet with Griffin Industries painted on the side in big, bold letters.
Four of the seats face each other with a small table between. Like a conference space, a space I’ve conducted business in a million times in the past. And four of them belong to a bench seat.
I sit back in one of the bucket seats and rest the side of my face against the window, but as my flight crew move about and prepare for takeoff, Lara, a stewardess I’ve met many times in the past, sashays by the bench seat and draws my eyes.
She wears a tight skirt and a push-up bra that almost has her assets touching her chin. She’s young – twenty-five or so – fit, beautiful, and flirty, which is precisely how we’ve ended up together on that bench seat in the past.
She holds no allure anymore. She has green eyes and light brown hair. Bright red lipstick draws every man’s eyes to her lips, and as though she’s set out guideposts, those eyes always then lower over her breasts and hips.