Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2)
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The medication I was on helped, but didn’t take it away. My doctor’s recommendation was to feel. Not to run from the feelings, but to embrace them. It was a healthy sign that I was thriving. It didn’t mean I had to like it. Which I didn’t. I fucking hated it. My thoughts were always to stuff that shit deep down into the dark place where they belonged. But this was a rebirth of sorts. The new, improved me. The woman who would feel her way through life. No more hiding, sulking, self-mutilation, co-dependency, and lying. I would be truthful. Stand up for myself. There were a few people that needed to hear those words from my mouth.
Soon. Very soon
. First, there was Abel.

Chance’s enthusiastic clapping woke me from my thoughts. “One step closer, Gia.” His words were meant to inspire. The twist in my gut was the proverbial knife I was feeling. We were at the same airport hangar as that day. A torrent of agony crashed down on me. My heart raced with the speed of a freight train.

A glass of water was introduced to my hand by Mr. Gunner. “Drink, my dear. I’ve got you. You’re with family now. People who care about you.” He soothed my mind with his words, but it was Cindy and Chance’s group hug that managed to penetrate my once galvanized skin.

The giant opened the door, extending his hand to me as I gave my water to Cindy. I needed to move on from that horrible day. So, I put one Jimmy Choo in front of the other until I was secured in my posh seat upon the Gunners’ private Gulfstream G200 Galaxy. My seat sat next to the window. My eyes took full advantage of the majestic mountains in the distance. God, it was beautiful. I couldn’t decide what was more breathtaking…the view or the inside of the plane. In traditional Gunner tastes, it was decorated in palettes of cream and rose. Seven luxurious deep-leathered seats with a matching couch for two. The plane was able to seat nine comfortably—no, more than comfortably. I could’ve lived on that plane full-time without complaint. It was cushy. Definitely worthy of the Gunner name.

“For you, my doll.” Chance twiddled a rose by its stem in front of me.

“Thank you, Chance. I mean, not just for this.” I took a deep inhale of the fragranced rose. “But, also for everything.” I leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

He enveloped my body into his in one swoop. My cheek rested against the warm, hard planes of his pecs. His scent was not Abel’s. However, he had a fresh, clean scent that he wore perfectly. Sigh.

“You’re very welcome, my darling. Come see your surprise.” He unbuckled my seatbelt and yanked me up.

Cindy had her face glued to her phone, and Mr. Gunner worked furiously on his laptop. We walked twenty-five feet to a pocket door that slid left. He opened the door and waited for me to enter. I walked through in amazement. A mini version of Abel’s bedroom suite. It was a tomb of deep burgundy, ecru, and splash of black.

“Umm, I don’t know what to say?” I walked around carefully. I wasn’t sure I liked it at all. Yes, it was thoughtful…but the remembrance of his room made me ill. Sick with guilt. I could feel my anxiety pique. One breath in…one long, cleansing breath out. The bed was queen-sized and dominated the small space.

“Smell.” He handed me a pillow.

I stepped forward, inquisitively bringing it to my nose.
Him
. “Is this…”

He nodded.

“Why?” I asked. Why would he take Abel’s pillow? How fucked-up was that?

“I did it because I know how someone’s smell could affect a person’s head. I thought you could use a dose of him on the way over. Let me tuck you in, kitten.” He pulled away the covers, exposing beautiful pink satin sheets.

“Pink?” I laughed. So not Abel.

“For my kitten.” He winked, kissing my cheek. “When the Master’s away and all that, right?” He laughed to himself.

I guess. I shrugged, getting in to the first slice of heaven I’d had in a while.

Curling up with his pillow secured against my chest, I said, “Chance, I can never thank you enough. You’re the brother I’ve never had. You mean the world to me. Thank you…” A tear escaped my eye to which Chance caught with his finger.

“No tears, doll…only pretty rainbows for you from now on.” He turned, shutting off the light. “Nighty, little one.” He closed the door securely behind him.

God, for a girl who’s known nothing but turbulence her whole life…I felt cherished and adored. A feeling I never wanted to be without again. No matter how many breaths I took, I still felt I couldn’t breathe. Taking a deep inhale of
his
pillow, I drew in
his
intoxicating scent and my eyes closed without medication for the first time in what felt like years—
Abel mine
.

Life gives you choices, and I’d always chosen the wrong ones. That time, I chose Abel, whole-heartedly. No longer was the leaf caught in the blustery winds….

 

Liquid fire raced through my veins with the force of a volcanic eruption. The word angry just didn’t cut it. I felt homicidal. I closed my eyes, savoring the last moments of solitude before I had to rejoin the band. My mates got the hint loud and clear. They left me alone to wallow in a world of endless pain. My only consolation was my guitar in one hand and a bottle of JD in the other. I strummed my guitar with the familiarity of
her
body. It always went back to
her
. I fingered the strings bloody. The pain felt good—real.

My hotel room dripped in submissive creams and orchids. The color palette licked my senses at every turn. Orchid reminded me of her beautiful, delicate pussy. My consciousness drifted to the exploration of each fold with my tongue...spreading her lips with my fingers. Watching her body respond to my touch as I bury my tongue deep within her, searching for that spot that drove her crazy. But those very thoughts proved duplicitous.

In anger, I tossed my guitar aside. The rage inside of me welled up to thunderous levels. My fingers dug bloodily into my palms. Holding my hands out for a visual check, I watched the blood steadily run into the creases of my palms. I needed more pain…more of everything. I walked to the floor to ceiling patina-scalloped mirror in the living room. I took a good, hard look at the man staring back. A razor hadn’t touched my face in days. My skin was ashen…eyes shadowed in agony. Fuck, I looked bad.

Leaning one hand against the wall, I palmed my face with the other. Fuck me…I lost my head over Beauty, that’s for fuck sure. Despite the world of hurt that went down between us…my dick was fucking hard at the thought of her. I couldn’t help but squeeze my cock ring, pulling it slightly. It felt like a lifetime ago that I had been buried balls deep…it’d only just been a few days. My fist closed mightily in my hand right before burying it into the mirror, shattering it. That’s how I felt. Utterly and thoroughly fucking shattered.

The door bounded open with a frenzy of bodyguards running in.

“Mr. Gunner, sir, are you okay? We heard…” My bodyguard’s mouth hung open.

I looked down to see what the fuck had him stock-still and wide-eyed. My eyes came to rest on a shard of glass from the mirror that was embedded in the webbing between my middle and forefinger. Fuck! A steady stream of blood poured out onto the marble floor. The staccato of feet approaching got my attention. The guys…

“What in the fuck, esse?” Ender grabbed my arm, holding it above my head.

Funny, I didn’t feel a thing. I was numb. Numb from feeling. Numb from not feeling. Numb from the alcohol. Just so fucking numbed out.

“Jesus, fuck.” Woody’s voice broke over the crowd of people running to grab towels.

I moved to sit on the arm of the couch. My arm still connected to Ender’s. Where the fuck was the bottle of JD? I scanned the room, not paying anyone any mind. I had one singular thought. I needed to get wasted.

I smiled as Jake walked over with the bottle JD. Thank fuck for Jake. “Here ya go. You’ll be needing this.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. What. The. Fuck. Ever.

I grabbed the bottle, taking a long pull. The fiery libation heated my insides like no other. Well, not like no other, but it’s what I needed. Numbness. Dave walked a blonde bombshell in with her medical bag in tow. The boys parted as her long, tanned legs carried her closer to me. Her blond hair fell long over her one shoulder. The fact that she had a short, tight black pencil skirt didn’t help matters. I am all man. I do appreciate the beauty in all things…especially female things.

“May I?” She removed Ender’s hand from mine, carefully bringing it in for a closer look. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. What have you gotten yourself into, Mr. Gunner?” She handed her bag to Ender, who accepted, and, by the way, stood there like a fucking mummy with his mouth agape.

“May I ask everyone to leave?” she addressed the group, all of whom were staring at her like she was their favorite lollipop. “I’d like to treat him. He looks like he could use a few stitches, a soak in the tub, and early to bed.” She motioned for me to have a seat on the couch. I complied.

“I think I’ll be staying, doc.” Ender’s voice rang a little too sweetly. “Everybody, clear the room. I’ll call you when she’s done with Abel. No worries. I’ve got this,” he addressed them with authority.

“Your choice, sir,” she stated flatly.

And so it began. She might as well have pulled out a red cape, flagging it at the bull.
Game on Ender
.

“Yes, it is my choice…Pet.” Ender opened her leather satchel full of medical aids. She stiffened at his words, but his hand came to rest on her lower back. “I will leave you to it. I’m going to make some coffee for him.” He nodded toward me. She nodded in agreement. I gave him an eye-roll. Whatever.

“Ahem. Anytime this year would be fine. And I don’t need fucking coffee.” I motioned to the bottle of JD. “I’ve got this fucker right here! My new BFF.” I took a swig. I needed that burn.

“The alcohol’s thinning your blood. In turn, it’s going to be hard to stop the bleeding. Do you think it’s possible to refrain from drinking for a few hours?” Doc’s blond head tilted with curiosity as if she were speaking a foreign language and waiting to see if I had any idea to what she was saying.

“Listen, Lady Bird, I’ll let you do whatever the fuck you need to do and leave. In turn, you will keep your opinions to yourself…respectfully.” I smirked. Fuck her and her elitist attitude. “Here’s what you’re here to fix.” I gave her my hand. “I say you get to it.” I turned my attention back to JD. Who I’ve neglected for the better part of twenty minutes.

“Ender,” I yelled across the room. I noticed her stance was now rigid. Good.

“Yo?” he called back.

“Bring me my guitar.”

He walked in with a cup of coffee, gently laying it on the coffee table in front of me. He picked up the guitar I had chucked earlier and laid it on the couch with the neck across my lap. He knew what I needed and why. My only other source of comfort outside of the bottle was that fucking guitar.

Lady Bird continued emptying her bag with everything that was necessary to aid my wound. She prepped the wound carefully, then asked Ender to fill a bowl with warm water. He did. Next, she laid a towel across my thighs and gently laid my hand upon it.

My hand was suddenly killing me. I had a shooting, stabbing pain up my fucking arm and into my bicep. The sutures delivered a tight tugging sensation as she closed my gash. Was it my skin being pulled or my heart? Why. Why. Why did it always go back to her?
My beauty
.

“Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Lady Bird’s warm breath on my aching hand had my heart wincing. She was on her knees, paying careful attention to her handiwork. Her aid was welcomed. Her insinuation was NOT. I knew women better than some knew themselves. Her tits resting on my knee whilst her tongue darted out to moisten her lips was not part of doctoring my wound. Motives. Every fucker had them. Lady Bird more than likely had motive leaking down her inner thighs.

“Not the kind of pain you can help me with, Lady Bird.” I removed my hand from hers. We were done. “Ender, kindly show the doctor out.” My eyes never left hers. I didn’t need her conjuring up some moment that never happened.

“I will leave these for you. You can’t take them while drinking. You may take two every four to six hours when you’re sober,” she instructed, straightening her skirt as she stood. Ender was right there to help her.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect, sir. I was just offering my comfort as a physician,” she said while grabbing her antiseptics, gauzes, and medications, and quickly threw them in her bag.

BOOK: Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2)
5.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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