Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2) (22 page)

“We.” His father came out of the bathroom to the left. Her eyes never left him as he walked over to greet us.

“We?” Abel asked. His hand ran through his hair. It looked as if he’d pull his hair out from the roots.

“Gia.” His father nodded and welcomed me.

I stepped forward. This was ridiculous and I wasn’t going to play it... We? Huh? Why? Who? Where? What game was he fixing on playing?

“Hi.” I hugged him and went to his mother to greet her the same. God, she was beautiful. She wore her dirty blonde soft ponytail with her bangs tucked behind her ear. The perfect picture of Jill St. John. She tabled her drink and responded with the biggest hug I’d ever received from a female other than Cindy. Sigh. It felt good. Something my soul craved. I wanted to wrap myself up in her nurturing love and stay there forever.

“Gia, come,” Abel beaconed me. His expression was soft, but his words were cold.

I went. I knew his parents being there was emotional for him. Why? I had no real fucking clue. I loved them. Why he didn’t was another conversation.

“Go shower for bed, love. Your bags will be in our room,” he punctuated.

“Okay.” I kissed his cheek and waved at them. “See you tomorrow.” I shrugged. I had no fucking clue whether I’d see them or not.

“Gia, my darling.” His mother’s words stopped me. “You look positively glowing, my dear.” She blew a kiss.

I smiled, thanking her, and left for our bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

He was lucky to have two parents that loved him.

Thought the world of him.

Wanted to share in his life.

And liked me.

I drew a bath using the complimentary bath salts. I soaked for a while, trying to busy myself to give him some private time with his parents. However, my skin was getting pruney.

My luggage arrived and was opened across our bed. I forged for a pair of sweats and tee-shirt but stopped when I heard Abel’s heated voice through the door. Being nosey, I walked closer and leaned my ear against the door softly. I couldn’t hear clearly. I held the handle waiting for an endless amount of time before turning it to the right—slowly. Carefully, I pulled it ajar the tiniest amount. I didn’t release the handle for fear it would make a noise. Then, slowly, I released. I could see Abel standing. His parents were sitting on the sofa. His father’s hand was around his mother.

“And where were you when I was growing up and needed you? Huh? Working. Always fucking working,” he seethed. I couldn’t see Abel’s face. His back was to me, thank fuck. His mother’s eyes held unshed tears. His father shook his head…no.

“I worked so you could have. Have a house. Attend the school you wanted to. And have that garage band. For us,” he shouted back.

“Please, Timothy,” his mother pleaded. “Abel, please, let’s not do this. Please,” she begged.

“Sorry, Mother. While that used to work, it doesn’t anymore,” he said, grabbing for the scotch.

Ah! Oh, no! I bit my nails. Don’t do it…please. I watched with bated breath through the crack. His father’s eyes moved to the door I was now standing in. I jumped away, hiding flush with the wall. Damn. Caught spying. I waited until Abel spoke again before resuming my station.

“All I wanted was a parent that was present.” He shook his head. “I didn’t care about money. You did. You did.” He pointed at both of them. “I wanted your love.”

Tears leaked from his eyes. His mother moved, but Timothy stopped her, nodding. He stood up, putting his arm around Abel’s neck.

“If I had any idea your mother was sick, I would have been home for you. I would’ve quit. No nanny. No outside help. Me! I didn’t know. She hid it from me, too. How long are you going to hold me responsible?” he asked him. Abel shook him off. His father looked toward the crack in the door that was me.

I stepped back, combing my hair behind my ears. Holy shit? What was wrong with his mother? She was depressed, right? How bad is that? Did she harm him?

Abel’s hand ran through his hair aimlessly. I knew he was trying to gain some kind of control. He looked lost. I wanted to go to him. I opened the door a little bit more, meeting his father’s eyes dead on. He shook his head no. Fuck, this was awkward. I thought, maybe I should go to sleep. It was pathetic listening in on a family argument. And yet…it was essential to my relationship with this complicated man. Spellbound, I couldn’t move. I moved back to the doorway quietly. My eye flush with the door’s edge…watching. Waiting.

Abel grabbed the back of his neck mightily. “She fucking thought I was you. I was sixteen, you asshole,” he cried, turning to the windows.

Oh, God. Was he going to jump? Wait? What? She thought he was Abel’s father? I thought for a long ten seconds. Oh, God. No.

“Son, nothing happened. She was confused. Her medication.” His father walked toward him, babbling on.

“Wait,” his mother screamed. “I’m here. Why do you both treat me like I’m not here?” She made the sign of the cross and approached them.

“Don’t.” Timothy went to her.

She brushed him off, holding her head high. She went to her son. “Abel, look at me,” she asked. He was abrasive initially, his head bowed. “Darling, I swear to you. God hear me—” She pointed upward. “—I asked you to sleep with me because of the storm. I was drinking. And my medication…” She shook her head, pleading.

He backed up. I backed up, suddenly sickened. My hands covering my mouth as I silently cried for him.

“It was a comfort thing. I swear. If you felt it was inappropriate, you’re right. You were too old to be in my bed. Too young to be comforting me. I didn’t mean for you to feel violated.” Her voice was soft.

Abel’s hand palmed his face like he wanted to rip it off. I knew that feeling. He didn’t want to exist. I spent many years like that.

“Did I touch you anywhere inappropriately?” she asked and he shook his head no. “Then what? Is this why you are the way you are? Is this why you prefer sex...umm,” she asked him, trying to find a delicate way to ask what I also wanted to know. Is this why he was a Dom? “I’ve read the allegations about…well your preferences,” she continued with a look of sorrow and sympathy in her eyes.

Abel whirled around, violently shaking her off. He got in her face. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” His voice was cold and furious. He cracked his neck a few times. “And it wasn’t only the storm, Mother.” He looked away in disgust shaking his head. She moved closer, grabbing his arm, forcing him to face her. “I shouldn’t have been in your bed period. You were pressed up against me. He should have been there. Not a boy made to be a man.” He pointed at his father. “You were sick and needed your husband. Not your son. Not your son…” he cried, falling to his knees.

My hand went to my heart and I ran to him. I flung the door open and ran my hardest in the shortest distance. Everyone jumped, including Abel as the door hit the wall from the force as I propelled myself forward. In my haste, I tripped over the coffee table leg, my head colliding with the edge of the glass dining room table. Instinctively, I grabbed my head, feeling warmth running down my face and into my mouth. The taste of copper ran across my tongue.

“Oh, fuck…call 9-1-1,” was all I heard from Abel’s lips. He held me close, cradling his phone on his shoulder, shouting something. The phone slid from his ear in slow motion. He looked to his father. My eyes followed curiously. It was like a movie. The only difference was, we were staring in it. “Help me, please…Dad.” His mouth opened and closed. What was he saying? The rest of the world went mute. Speechless. His parents sprang into motion. I wanted to tell them I was fine, but I knew I wasn’t when I looked up at him. And then I watched the blood drain from his face. His body shook beneath me. His lip trembled.

Then the door flew open. Chance, Dave, Ender, and Jake moved in slow motion. I grabbed on to a single thought—my mother. I wanted my mother. The air in the room shifted, turning cold. God, I was so cold. The universe as I knew it was closing in on me. The edges grew darker and darker until all I saw was black nothingness…

The familiar sterile smell filled my nose. But there was something unfamiliar in my nostrils. I felt so weak. I couldn’t open my eyes. My hands were grabbing at whatever was blocking my air.

“Baby, no. It’s your oxygen.” His voice broke. It terrified me.

I forced my eyes open. Unable to focus. I let his scent surround me. Comfort me. Yeah, that was my happy place.

“Where am I?” I asked groggily, trying to sit up. The hospital room came into focus, along with the events that led to me being there. I’m such a klutz. He was probably mad at me. I was eavesdropping when I shouldn’t have been.

“Not yet, baby. The doctor will be back in any minute.” His arm gently secured me to the bed. His face etched with worry—regret. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” A tear sat on the edge of his thick lashes. He was so beautiful. God, I loved this man.

“Sorry for what? For me being nosey? It’s my own fault.” I tried shaking my head, but the pain radiated through my skull. I squinted my eyes. Nope, squinting didn’t take away the pain. The fluorescent light wasn’t helping, either. “Can you shut off the light?” I asked weakly. Fuck. I must’ve looked like a wreck. My hands went to my head. Thick gauzed tape stuck to the side of my face. “Ah, my face,” I screamed palming it. The IV in my hand pulled painfully on my skin. Great.

“Your face is fine, Beauty. They shaved a little patch of hair…not much,” he explained using his thumb and index finger to show me. “You’ve got a few stitches, too. You’ll be good as new in no time.” He smiled warmly. His face was thick with day-old growth. “Water?” His heavily tatted hands poured me some.

My body reacted to every inch of him. Yes, even in this hospital bed. I nodded yes. When he turned his head, I took in his handsome features. The angle of his square jaw. The cleft in his chin that begged to be licked. My eyes gravitated to his thick hair…

“Hey, what happened to your hair?” I asked with my mouth falling open. He had a patch of hair missing. It was freshly buzzed. I put my hand to my own head trying to figure if it was the same side. Yep.

He beamed brightly. “I shaved it like yours.” He shrugged it off like no big deal. I lifted my hand to touch it and he bent down, letting me run my fingers through his hair. Ooh, I loved the feel.

“You’re a crazy bastard. You know that? But, I love that you did that.” I loved the gesture. But his fans loved his hair. I loved his hair. Wait, I loved my hair. My face fell.

“What? Are you in pain?” He hurried to my side. Jesus, man…calm down.

“I probably look like Franken-Bride.” I pouted, biting my bottom lip. His eyes now focused on my lips. Oh.

The curtain pulled open and a handsome thirty-something doctor moved toward us. “Ms. Mastro, Mr. Gunner. I’m Dr. Barek,” he said glibly with my chart in his hand. He was all business. No bedside charm. “I’m happy to see you’re awake.” His American voice was a welcome to my ears. His fingers began thumbing through my paperwork, nodding more to himself. Abel and I waited for his assessment. “I need to check your eyes.” He removed a pen flashlight from his scrubs. “Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered.

He shined the light from one eye to the other and then back again. “Very good. No concussion. You’re very lucky. You took quite a hit.” He began removing the bandage to have a look.

I started worrying my hands nervously. I couldn’t help it. Abel grabbed my hand, smiling at me. Yeah, I was going to be fine. I was sure of it.

“The bump will go down and the stitches will come out. It could have been worse.” His voice was very clinical. “When was your last period dear?” He waited while taking a prescription pad out.

“Period. I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re asking,” I exclaimed. I was taken aback. Period. When was my last period? I couldn’t recall with all that had happened. “Give me a minute. Things have been really crazy the past few weeks.” I met Abel’s eyes. They were wide—not a good sign. Umm, I closed my eyes, pondering. I always had my period when Cindy had hers. But she wasn’t there to ask. Was she? I’d look like a fucking jackass deferring to my girlfriend. So, I lied. “Umm, seventeen days ago. I should be getting it soon. I’m very regular.” I lied. I was anything but regular with my bad eating habits. When I starved myself, it fucked with my cycle.

Dr. Barek laid a warm hand my mine. “Don’t worry yourself. They took blood when you arrived. We’ll have the results soon enough. In order to prescribe pain meds, I need to know for sure.” He smiled. His smile did nothing to warm the chill that ran through me. I didn’t want to even look at Abel. He probably knew I was full of shit. I was fucking scared. Pregnancy never entered my mind. In fact, we were idiots who didn’t use any protection. I never claimed to be a smart when it came to Abel. I was dumb in love with this man. Dumb enough to be possibly pregnant and lie about it.

“I don’t want pain meds. My mother has a pill problem so I stay away from them all together,” I responded robotically. Well, that’s half true. I needed to get the fuck out of there pronto. “He has a concert tonight. So…” I hedged, blaming it on his concert. “Hey, what time is it, anyway?” I asked Abel.

His arms were crossed as he scrutinized me. Of course, he was. He had a sense about him. An alpha thing. An Abel thing…I had no clue. God, I felt like I was suffocating. I needed to get out of there.