Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2) (2 page)

“Good! I was hoping you’d say that. How about we go get our boy?” His beautifully sculpted eyebrow rose, waiting for my answer. His hand gently squeezed mine as he coaxed my answer.

“We?” I stuttered. “I looked around my hospital room. It was drab. All be it, but the flowers Cindy brought every day. Feeling self-conscious, I pulled at my hospital gown.

“Stop, Gia. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t second guess yourself. I need you to be the woman I know you are. The woman you’re meant to be. If you’re to be by his side, you need to be confident. He needs you and you need him. I’m just offering you a vessel back to each other.” He was as dark and foreboding as Abel.

All I could do was nod. I had so many questions and no fucking answers. I was taking a big risk. Risking everything, as well as my fucking mental health. Could I afford to be dropped on my head again and left for dead? No, I couldn’t. But…there was a big fat fucking but there…It was Abel. I couldn’t deny him anything—ever. Was I risking my own sanity, though? Fuck yeah I was. Was he worth every last ounce of me? A resounding fuck yeah. I could rise above my insecurities to try to get him back. After all, his father was helping. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry,” I squeaked. My eyes roamed the floor for any miscellaneous particles. “I’m embarrassed and feel self-conscious. I can’t help but think what your opinion is of me…what I did. Why would you want me to be a part of your son’s life?” I asked and made sure to look him in the eye. It was true. If I wanted my Dom—my Abel—I needed to get my shit together, and fucking quick.

“My doctors have been taking care of you since you arrived. I’m a good judge of character, Gia. You, my dear, are just a product of your environment. I can empathize with that. My son doesn’t know this, but I grew up in a similar circumstance. We had money. That was the only difference. But money doesn’t take away the ugliness of it all. I know my son. I know what’s good and what’s not. Something real. Something that’s tangible…that’s what he needs.” He ran his hand through his hair, much like Abel.

There was a certain amount of comfort in that. But the fact still remained, he left me. He never waited for an explanation or an excuse.

While mind-fucking myself into oblivion, a knock sounded at the door.

Chance. His smile was bright and cheery. “Well, how’s our girl?” He rushed in with shopping bags, dropping them at my feet. He engulfed me in a signature Chance hug, full of kisses and comfort. It was just what the doctor ordered.

I returned his embrace with a pat. “I’m doing much better, thank you.” I smiled up at his beautiful face. Sigh. He felt a step closer to home. I couldn’t help but get lost in the moment.

“I just want to say…” I didn’t get the words out before he was kissing the whole of my face.

“Don’t you fucking dare—Gia.” He held me against his muscled chest, squeezing the oxygen out of me. “Mr. Gunner filled me in. That fucking cunt. I want to kill her for you. I swear to God I do…and I’m a lover, not a fighter. That should tell you something.” He sighed loudly. “Tell me what you need. Anything and it’s yours.” He stepped back, taking a long look at me and the room I occupied. “Let’s get you out of here, baby girl,” he said, cupping my chin.

I nodded as Dr. Westin walked in. He walked directly over to Mr. Gunner, shaking his hand firmly. Chance tucked me under his arm securely. The doctor took notice and just nodded toward him.

“Gia, are you ready to give life a shot again?” He reached into his lab coat and placed three bottles of medication on my tray-table with a resounding clack.

I tensed. Chance squeezed my shoulders in support. “Yes, I am. I’m more than ready, Doctor.” I stepped forward and noticed the smirk of approval on Mr. Gunner’s face. “I’m ready.” I looked him in the eye.

Dr. Westin handed me my release forms with a litany of instructions. Fuck. That was embarrassing. What choice did I have? None. I needed out of that asylum. Meds or no meds, I needed to grasp at the tiny thread that was tethered to Abel. Grab on to it for dear life.

“Pen, please?” I motioned for the doctor to hand me his pen. He did. I signed that shit in a second flat while Chance patted my back and kissed my cheek.

“Best of luck, Gia. Remember, you have alternatives, little one. There are always alternatives.” He pocketed the pen, shook Mr. Gunner’s hand, nodded his goodbye, and left.

“Come, baby girl. Let’s get you out of these…umm…these clinical clothes.” Chance grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom with his bag of tricks. “Peaches and cream, baby girl. Your skin’s peaches and fucking cream.” He closed the door behind us.

“Sorry, it’s not really a big enough bathroom for the two of us.” I frowned up at him.

“It’s perfect! Let’s get you in to what fabulousness I picked out for that gorg body and face of yours.” He smiled brightly, making him look like he belonged in an Orbit gum commercial. Perfectly white teeth against olive skin.

He gently untied the back of my hospital gown. I lifted my hair out of the way. Bending into the mirror to take in the dark circles under my eyes, I cringed. “Don’t, Gia. You’re beautiful, my darling. And you’ve been through an ordeal. Don’t nitpick.” He frowned.

“Ugh. Fuck me sideways.” I fingered my gaunt, pasty white skin. I purposely disregarded the mirror for that singular purpose. Natural beauty my ass…

“Let’s not and say we did.” He grabbed my arms, staring into my eyes with a wicked gleam.

I smirked. God, he was beautiful. Too bad he batted for the other team. “Okay, let’s see what you brought for me.” I winked.

“There’s our girl.” He winked back, tucking my bangs behind my ears. “I happened to get my hands on the perfect Narciso Rodriguez dress…fresh off the runway, doll.” He unwrapped the tissue paper, exposing probably the singularly most beautiful dress known to man. Cashmere crepe. Long sleeves with a deep cowl exposing my ample cleavage while still conservative and demure. He held up a pair of nude Jimmy Choo pumps.

“You’re traveling with Mr. Gunner, so I couldn’t do fuck-me-here-and-now sexy.” He kissed my hand. “But this is as good as it gets. You will have him on his knees. Let’s go get Abel, baby girl.” He twirled me around, blowing in a fresh breath of confidence. Yes, Abel. Mine. He carefully aided me in dressing, paying attention to every detail. In his bag of tricks, he had my favorite MAC makeup. I couldn’t help but fall in love with him even more. He thought of every comfort to make me feel better and took his time with me as if I were a porcelain doll.

It was time to screw my head on straight and get my man. There was no time for intensiveness. No time for self-refection. I needed to own who I was. Finally gain my independence from the witch who birthed me. It was the time for the mighty Gia to show her face. Shake the dirt off of me and be the woman I was meant to be—his woman. I needed to get my love, my heart, and my soul back. With a mental shake, Gia Mastro, his beauty, appeared. That was where I was meant to be. God, I missed myself. One breath in…one deep breath out.

“Let’s go get what’s mine,” I announced to Chance.

With a proud smile, he said, “There you are.” He gripped me by the shoulders. “Let’s go get what’s yours.” Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead.

I breathed in his manliness, missing the touch of a man. Missing
my
man. My heart sang with joy. There was no darkness in that moment. Only light. Only love. I shook my head, concurring with a sweet smile. He wrapped his arms around me. We left the hospital behind us and looked to my future full of piss and vinegar.

A blacked out Ford Expedition SUV—a typical Gunner vehicle—sat curbside waiting. To my surprise, the giant, otherwise known as Abel’s personal driver, was standing beside the passenger door with a wide toothy smile. For a giant, he wasn’t half bad in the light of day. I cringed at the thought of the last time I was in his company. A full flush graced my face as I nodded, entering the vehicle. I didn’t have a moment of thought before I was enveloped into a full on Cindy-bear-hug.

“Gia! God, I’m so happy we sprung you.” She none too gently rocked us both.

“We?” I laughed. I was beyond thrilled, myself. I had so many questions. How? Why? But, it was hardly appropriate with said party in the vehicle. I was thankful. And at the moment, that was enough. Having support wasn’t something I wanted to kick in the teeth. I wanted to embrace it fully. I closed my eyes at that thought…and thought of
him
.

“Yes,
we
. My hand’s everywhere. This has Cindy’s-epic-awesomeness written all over it.” She winked. “Seriously, how are you? You look pale—tired.” A look of pity donned her face.

My face fell at
that
realization. What
I
did. How weak
I
truly am—was. Sigh. I didn’t want to be pitied. Not by her. Not by anyone ever again. I was tired of waiting for my happily ever after. I was going to grab happily ever after by the balls. I was going to be in control of my life. And it started with closing the chapter of my childhood with Medusa permanently. Fuck that bitch! I’ve heard some people say blood is thicker than water, but after meeting Abel Gunner… I’d say a Master’s love is thicker than both.

“Hey, hey now…chin up, tits out, and smile, sweets. We’re going to get your man…right?” Chance grabbed my chin with the gentle hand of a brother. Then turned to Cindy. “I don’t want any talk of the ghosts of tragic past. Been there done that. This is a voyage of
amore
. Got it?” He rolled his eyes at Cindy and then turned back to me. “You, my darling, need to eat. I took the liberty of ordering some comfort, and not so comforting foods for the plane ride. And wait till you see your bedroom.” He clapped. “Mr. Gunner gave me the go ahead.” He leaned in. “Not that I needed permission. I’m family.” He patted my leg, winking. His
Orbit
smile electrified the SUV.

A chuckle came from Mr. Gunner. It was hard not getting wrapped up in Chance. Between his gorgeously sculpted face, piercing glacial blue eyes, and warm brotherly personality, it was hard to remember he batted for the other team. I could see Cindy staring at him as if he were otherworldly. He was. I’d never met anyone like him. Not in my lifetime.

Mr. Gunner typed away on his laptop. Office work, I guessed. Wait…

“Mr. Gunner, who’s going to run the office?” I asked, panicked.

He finished typing then patted the seat beside him once.

My inner sub responded immediately. Not in sexual way, but in a way of deference. Hmm? I never gave it much thought. Was Mr. Gunner a Dom? The way he held himself. The command, control, and will he showed spoke akin to one. I’d never ask. It would be inappropriate. I looked at Cindy, who was texting…then to Chance, who nodded. Was that an affirmation? Or
go sit next to him
? I shrugged and off I went.

He moved his briefcase from the seat so I could take it.

“Come here, Gia.” He continued to pat.

I reciprocated and scooted closer. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous around him. I owed him everything. And he was Abel’s blood. I couldn’t get any closer to Abel at that moment. It sounds trite, but I was comforted by that thought.

“If I ask you to do something, will you trust me to know what’s best? If I ask you to live your truth, could you? Could you live in that moment? Even if it’s stretched into a few hours?” he asked me.

I started cracking my knuckles. Fuck. Could I? That was my chance. My moment…my
all in
moment. Did I have the balls? I took a moment to ponder that, not realizing I was now massaging my temples in stern concentration.

His mighty hand removed my fingers from my head. “Gia, answer the question. Do you trust me?” He sidled up to me in his commanding tone. “Does your love for Abel run soul deep? The type that takes your breath away?”

His blackened eyes were freed of all politeness. He wanted an answer. One breath in… One long breath out.

“Unequivocally, yes.” My eyes met his. There was no room for indecision. I knew the tell-tale signs of a Dom. It wasn’t a question that was to be met with an answer other than
yes.

A roguish smirk graced his Abel-esque face. Immediately, my body answered with a breathy exhale. Pressure released. Abel and his father had so many similarities it was startling. I found peace in that fact—comfort.

We took a twenty-minute, scenic drive through the outskirts of Colorado’s picturesque municipalities. My head leaned against the seat, deep in thought. I pictured the moment Abel and I would share upon seeing each other again. Queasiness flooded my belly. I pushed my hand into my stomach to dispel the raw feelings. They weren’t tangible. But they felt that way. Nevertheless, it was enough to make me nauseous.