Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2) (4 page)

“Yeah, I got that, Lady Bird. It’s not you…it’s me and all that. Sorry, you caught me at a really fucking bad time.” I dismissed her with my hand. I meant every word of it, too. I probably sounded like a jerkoff. Fuck it. I had real hardcore shit to fret about. Not Lady Bird’s feminine feelings.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that, right?” She grabbed her satchel hurriedly and turned her attention to Ender. “Make sure he doesn’t OD on the pain medication, please. In fact, here.” She handed them to him. “You’re in charge of that asshole now. I’m done. My office will forward the bill,” she said while walking to the door.

“Relax, mama. He’s always an asshole, but he and his girl just fell out.” He removed a curl from her eye. “How about we meet up for a drink? You look like you could use one. I know I could,” he said, looking back at me.

“Go fuck yourself, esse!” I grabbed my guitar, tugging it closer.

“See? I’ve got to deal with this jackass.” He smiled at the blushing doctor.

“Sure, why not.” She wrote her phone number on the back of a prescription pad, tore it off, and handed it to him. “Hopefully you have manners.” She then grabbed hold of the door handle.

“I’ll call you later.” He opened the door for her to walk through while taking a good, long, lustful look at her from head to toe.

Lady Bird turned back, fully flushed. She continued strutting her shit to the elevator. Ender closed the door with a long sigh.

“Fuck, dude? What the fuck is wrong with you? We used to be simpatico. You’ve fuckin’ lost your shit.” He came over to take a seat. He went to grab my guitar, but I beat him to it.

Luckily, my injured, gauzed-up hand wasn’t the one I used to pick with. I’d have to wait a few days until my hand was pliable enough to play the chords, though. Fuck. I shook my head, dismayed at myself. What a long fucking few days.

“My head’s not straight. I’m not in a good place right now.” I decided to put the bottle of JD down. Those pain pills were looking better and better. I needed some relief. “Hand me the meds. My fucking hand’s killing me.” I stared at the mummy wrapped gauze around my hand. A testament of just how homicidal I was. Christ.

“I’ll stay here tonight. I’ll order up some food. Then I’ll give you two pills.” Ender pulled the room service menu out of the drawer beside the couch. “When was the last time you’ve eaten, bro?”

I shrugged. “Dunno? I haven’t been hungry.” I hadn’t been much lately. Barely existing aside from the air I was breathing or the JD I was guzzling.

Ender silenced his phone and placed it on the table. “What can I do, bro? Tell me and it’s done! Give me something to work with here. You’ve alienated yourself from the band. We’re brothers…we want to help. Be there for you. Listen to you. Be the ear you need.” He shrugged. “We’ve been dudes since forever. Let us help you, bro—seriously. We’re all feeling your pain.” He gave way to a heavy sigh.

It wasn’t until that moment that I truly felt his pain…my band’s pain. My life was affecting them all. That was not my intention. But depression’s a fucked-up evil squalor. It insidiously wraps its arms around you and squeezes until you can’t breathe. Can’t see. Can’t think. Can’t anything. That wasn’t my first go around with it. That fucker had plagued my youth. Music, meds, and fucking usually helped thwart some of its brutal effects, but not always. All it took was something significant to happen emotionally and the fucker was back, sucking the life out of me and anyone around me. Some people inherit normal things like eye color, hair color, even mannerisms. Not fucking me! I inherited depression from dear old mom. Fucking lovely. Well, I couldn’t luxuriate or decorate my way out of it the way she did. I wasn’t that fortunate. I looked to alcohol, drugs, and women to help me through it. And yet, the last was not an option that time. All I wanted was her love. Was that so much to ask for? To be with someone whose only motive was to love me for me? Not for what I could give them or do for them.

I reclined enough to cover my eyes with my forearm. “I’m fucked. I’m really fucked over this girl, dude. I’ve never been so tormented by another person in my life…especially a lovely. You know?”

I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging it. I always needed that pain. Pain was tangible. Fuck, I was a walking contradiction. I used drugs and alcohol to not feel. Then used pain to feel again. What. In. The. Fuck. Damn, I was a fucking mess.

Ender grabbed my shoulder in a show of solidarity. I appreciated that. I really did. But, the bigger dominant part of me did
not.
I didn’t like the feeling. What it implied. I was stronger than that.

“What is it about her, Abel? Why has she gotten to you? Don’t get me wrong. What went down was fucked-up, dude, but what is it about Gia?” He waited for my answer.

I took my time. What was it? What the fuck was it about her? The first thought that came to mind was something I would never share with any dude—ever.
I really missed her hair in my face.

I sat forward with my forearms on my thighs. As if that would help me put into words all my befuddled thoughts of Gia. “All I can say is…I really miss the way her innocence tastes. If that makes any sense. I opened my eyes and my heart to her. She made my life beautiful—fulfilled. She’s everything I want. And everything I’m not.” I shrugged. What did he want from me? At that realization, my anger returned. “And what did I get from her? Dishonesty! She played me out. She fucking played me out!” I fisted my hands, ready to pound something.

“Son, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m here to set the record straight. To tell you the truth as I know it.” My father’s voice rang out behind me. What was he doing there?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I went to stand, but the room began to sway. Thankfully, Ender was there to spot me into my seat again. Fucker.

“Hey, Mr. Gunner. I was just about to order up. You want?” Ender asked kindly, but with an air of caution. Fuck, he knew my father better than anyone. If my father were there, he’d be dismissed.

“Thank you, but no. The boys are enjoying themselves at the bar. Why don’t you join them? I will order for myself and Abel. Thank you for looking after him, but I’ll take it from here.” He dismissed Ender as I thought. Of course. I shook my head.

“No worries, later. Esse, call me if you need me.” He grabbed his iPhone and headed out with a slam of the door.

And then it began. My father had successfully sequestered me.

“I’m not in any mood for one of your father-son speeches.” I threw my legs up on the couch in an effort to thwart him from sitting next to me. So not fucking interested in his shit.

He sat in a wingback chair, facing me, with his fingers steepled. A trait we both shared when something important plagued our consciousness. “Before you start with your rock- star attitude…let me just say I’m here on behalf of someone who I feel means the world to you. And I know beyond a doubt that said person feels the same. I have no motive other than the happiness of my only son. This goes far beyond money, privilege, social standings, or my profession. So let’s get that out of the way before you start your usual attacks. I’ve heard them all, and you couldn’t be further from the truth,” he shot out in one breath. Then he proceeded to pick up the suite phone to order a steak dinner for two.

“You look like shit, Abel!” he threw out.

“Why thanks for noticing, Dad.” I rolled my eyes.

“Nice bandages. You’ve managed to harm yourself on top of everything else.” He shook his head.

“On top of everything else? On top of everything like what? Getting fucked over by the only girl I’ve ever…” I abruptly stopped, biting my tongue. I didn’t need to defend myself. What was he getting at, anyway? What does he give a fucking shit for? He never gave a shit unless he had a monetary interest.

He walked up to the bar and poured himself a scotch. He turned to me with a heartbroken face that I’d never witnessed my father having, ever. “When you left Gia on the tarmac…” He took another swig and refilled his glass.

“And? What? When I left her what?” Panic laced my voice.

He placed his scotch glass down. “When you left Gia on the tarmac, son…she overdosed.”

I winced. His words put my heart in a triangle-choke-hold. Squeezing my once barely beating heart. I grabbed for my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Oh fuck. I couldn’t breathe. The pain…my heart was exploding. Oh God almighty, the pain.

My father ran over, seeing my distress and rubbed my back. “Abel, breathe. She’s alive. Abel, she’s alive.”

I lurched forward, vomiting all over the floor. What was he saying? My mind couldn’t compute the simplest words. I pressed into my diaphragm with all my might. I felt something lodged in there. My heart…my heart was gone. Dropped right the fuck out of me.

He grabbed my chin. “Look at me.” I did. “She’s alive. Do you understand me, son? She’s alive and she’s here,” he yelled.

My brain was a fucked-up mess of want, need, and alcohol.

“She’s here?” I questioned. “How? I don’t understand?” My voice was thick with emotion. The pain in my chest was a testament of the depth of love I had for Beauty.

“Let me explain everything to you. Can you listen for once in your life? Really listen and hear? Christ, you’re so thick-headed.” He huffed, pulling out a cigarette.

Fuck, I didn’t even know my old man smoked? I nodded for him to continue. I needed answers.

He blew out a ring of thick smoke before he started. “After you left her on the tarmac, she overdosed on pills. Not sure what it was. It really doesn’t matter. What’s important is she was found in time.” He shuddered before taking another long drag. “She’s been in the hospital up until early this morning. So while you’re living your life being angry at the world, some of us have had life-threatening issues to deal with.” He extinguished his cigarette and stared at me.

What the fuck was going on? My brain became a turbine of irrational thoughts. I fisted my hair with my one good hand. What did I do? What did I do?

“How is she?” My voice cracked. “Tell me how she is.” I pounded the table in front of me with my good hand. “I need to know!” I shouted. Unbeknownst to me…tears ran down my face. My father handed me his handkerchief from his suit jacket and I accepted it gruffly. God, my fucking heart hurt. I would never want or intend for any harm to come to her, ever. Especially by my hand. Never my hand. Never…

“Listen, Abel, she’s had a very unforgiving life. But my suggestion is to let her tell you. It’s her story to tell. What I will say is that what Morgana eluded to is false. She was not going to fuck you over for lack of a better word. Quite the opposite actually…her mother’s a real treasure.
One
that I plan to personally deal with myself.” My father sneered, looking off toward the window.

“She’s a product of her milieu, as we all are. That being said, you owe it to yourself and her to listen. To show her the man you project yourself to be. The man I know you are. You are your
father’s
son…stop fighting who you are. Show her compassion and deference. She will give you the world. It’s the trifecta. Own her heart, trust, loyalty, and you’ve truly won. Her submission is the coup de grâce.” His primal black eyes stabbed at my soul. Or was that guilt?

Like an eclipse, I was witnessing something rare. Seeing my father…really fucking seeing him. Not the man he projected to occupational contacts. The beast within him. The same beast that resided within me. This was a fucking eye-opening, outer-fuckin-body experience. A Dom knows another Dom. Why hadn’t I ever looked at my father? I really never looked deeper than his Emporio Armani suits with Hermes pocket squares.

“Yes, son, I know what you are. You’re my doppelgänger. I know very well what you crave—need,” he announced. A mouthful of garble to someone else. To me, it was an admission of what
he
is…a Dom. I could hardly say the word silently within the confines of my own mind. I had many questions, but it was not the time. I wanted to see Gia. No, I actually needed to see her.

“Get cleaned up! I will bring her up.” He nodded toward the bathroom. That wasn’t a request. More like an edict.

I was sure I had looked like three-miles-of-shit. A hot shower and shave would’ve done me some good. Without looking back at my father, I left the room, more uplifted than I had been in a while. However, my mind was still reeling from if’s, why’s, and how’s. I decided to take his advice.
Which was a surprise in itself. He was right to say I was thickheaded. I was. I was a real fucking asshole most of the time. My sudden guilt rode me harder than I expected. I never gave her a chance to explain. I took what the fucking cunt said as law. I should have never done that. I knew better, but my anger and overwhelming sense of betrayal didn’t allow me to recognize it. Why did it take finding out about her overdose to open my eyes? Love is truly blind.

In life, there are many interpretations of why we do what we do. When you care deeply for someone, the least you could do is listen. Listening would’ve cost me nothing but time—time I wish I could go back and give. Reacting the way I did cost me dearly and nearly cost my beauty her life—a life I couldn’t live without. That girl had me undone. I decided we had both been through enough. Maybe there was a way of working it out without absolutely murdering each other emotionally. If there weren’t, I’d make one. Here’s what I did know: running was no longer an option. Running nearly put her and me in the grave. The only running I planned on doing was running to her. To my beauty—mine.