Authors: K Larsen
Chapter 23
It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re screwing up something important, yet somehow continuing to screw it up anyway. I regret storming out of Pepper’s. I should have stayed. I should have forced her to admit her feelings. It was all there behind her eyes, plain as day. She thinks she’s doing me a favor, but why, I don’t know. I get the whole living-a-normal-life-in-WITSEC concern, but isn’t the point of that so that one
can
live a normal life again?
I show up at the
“cabin” that belongs to Clara and Dom. It’s more like a log mansion if you ask me. I don’t really recall how I arrived here but I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. I raise my hand to knock on the impressive wooden door but it swings open before I have a chance. Clara stands in yoga pants and a tank, colorful hair swept up atop her head and hand on a hip.
“Sawyer?” her voice is cautious, reserved
.
“I...” I don’t get to finish my thought, not that I even know what I
was trying to say, before Clara pulls me by the bicep into the house and pushes me onto the couch.
“What’s wrong? Who died?” she asks
, worried, concern etching her features. “Actually, I’m really glad you’re here. I have something to tell you,” she says, bulldozing the conversation. “Dominic wants to adopt Allie.”
“What?!” I boom, tension coiling deep in my gut. Holy shit. What the hell is she talking about?
“Before you freak the fuck out, can I please explain?”
“Explain what exactly
, Clara? That you want to make your happy new family legal? That you want to cut me out? What about Allie’s best interest?! Jesus...I come here for...I don’t know what and you spring this on me?!”
She stands, pacing, hands balled into tiny fists
.
“NO! No one is taking Allie away from anyone. He’s adopting her so that she feels a part of the family, so we all have the same last name. Nothing on your end will change. Same visitation, same role. Dominic is still her stepfather. I haven’t talked to Allie yet because I wanted to talk to you first! If she abhors the idea then it gets tossed out the window, but Jesus
, Sawyer, let’s let her make the decision for what will make
her
feel connected with all of us.”
Fuck. Now I feel like a total ass. I were in Dom’s situation I’d probably want the same thing. A unified family
.
“My role doesn’t change? I don’t lose
any
time with her?” I ask, feeling defeated.
“No and no. Sawyer, you’re her father, I could never take her away from you like that
,” she says more softly.
“It would kill me
, you know.”
“I would kill me too
,” she admits.
“So a
last-name change, essentially, and you’ll have legal work drawn up to state that I have parental rights still?”
“Do you need that?” she questions
.
“I want that
,” I declare. I do need that. I need it so I know that no one will ever take my little girl away from me whether or not I’m her dad.
“Then okay. I’d like
to ask Allie next week. She’ll no doubt feel conflicted so be sure to be ready for her to run to you. I want all three of us to be there for her while she thinks it through,” she says.
“Of course
,” I answer.
“Now,
uhh, why are you here?”
I suck in a sharp breath
, feeling childish almost for having popped over for woman troubles now. Allie is about to have a monumental moment and I’m here because my woman loves to screw me but doesn't want commitment. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Pepper thinks I’m hung up on you
,” I blurt.
“Are you?” She inhales sharply. I shake my head
, searching for the right words to explain this to Clara.
“I chose to feel it
, my love for you, but you couldn't choose. Clara, you were what I wanted but I'm not sorry it’s over. Not now. I gave what I gave and it wasn't reciprocated, not the way I wanted. I'm not sorry there's nothing left to say. There's no way back to how we were. This time it has to go right. My life. My love...it has to go right this time.” I pause, trying to figure out what I need to say. “We have to stop hiding from the shadows we left behind. You kept secrets that I thought I knew. Every single silent moment felt like a debt we had to pay. I'm free of it all now. It feels good. Let me go. Let me have my life. You’ve taken up home inside of me and you’ll never leave, but...”
Her broad mouth, always ready with a smile or wisecrack
, smiles sadly at me. She understands.
“But you need me to say it
,” she finishes for me.
“I don’t
, Clara,” I say bitterly. “That’s why I’m here, I don’t need to hear anything from you. I need you to be my friend, my best friend. I need you to be happy for me, but I don’t need to hear that you approve or grant permission. You don’t have a hold on me in any way to warrant granting permission.”
Her eyes fill with tears and I know I’ve struck a chord
.
“Sawyer
…” she says voice faltering. “I’m so afraid to let go, really let go, because it means there is a possibility of losing you one hundred percent.” Her voice waivers but she steadies it.
“Maybe, but you know me and you know I wouldn’t do that. I think it’s a control issue.”
She cackles loudly, head dipping back. “You sound like my therapist.”
“Your therapist sounds smart
,” I retort dryly. She takes my hand in hers and squeezes.
“I don’t think once you’ve loved someone you ever really get to
unlove them.”
“I agree, but you love Dom the way a wife should love a husband, and I want to find that too. I think Pepper could be the one
, Clara. You have to let her in. You have to share. There’s enough of me for everyone,” I say gently.
“How on
Earth did I ever get so lucky to find you?” Her voice is thick with sentiment.
“Same reason I was lucky enough to find you. We served each other well, really well, until we didn't anymore
, and that’s okay,” I push.
“True enough. Beer?” she asks. She’s deflecting. I get that. It’s hard to say what I said. It’s got to be equally hard to hear it
.
“Sure
,” I answer.
“Good,
‘cause I guess it’s time you tell me all about Pepper and let me see if I can help you out,” she calls over her shoulder on her way to the fridge.
“If by some miracle I get another chance before all this is said and done I won’t be such a coward next time
,” I quip.
“I’m sure you’ve done everything right
,” she says supportively.
“She has secrets
, Clara...dark secrets.”
She hands me a beer and plops down next to me. A wave of nostalgia passes through me. I miss our time together. I miss it differently than before
, though. I miss my best friend. The closeness of having that person.
“Go on
,” she urges. I breathe in deeply and get started.
Chapter 24
By the time I’m finished with my
hot-and-cold Pepper explanation, Clara is staring at me wide-eyed.
“Damn
,” she breathes.
“Is that good or bad?”
“Sawyer. Do you remember when we first met?” she asks.
“Of course
,” I answer.
“I barely spoke to anyone unless I had to. I used you for sex, which
, for the record, was
ah-maz-ing
, and then realized I was so comfortable with you that I couldn’t be without you. You accepted me as is. I was damaged. Broken. Untrusting. You’ve learned from your mistakes, and they
were
mistakes. You’ve pushed her, but gently, and she’s still gun shy.”
“Is there a point hidden in there?” I ask
, resting my head on the back of the couch, frustrated.
“
Har har asshole, yes. Keep pushing. Harder. Stop being gentle with her. I obviously don’t know what shit she’s gone through, but based on the “how I got my scars’ conversation, she’s got a lot of hurt in that head of hers. Be the knight in shining armor. You’re actually really good at that. But also, be firm.”
“Firm
,” I repeat.
“Firm!” she shouts
, causing me to jump. “Dom puts me in my place. A lot. If you haven't noticed, he’s a take-no-prisoners kinda guy. That does not exclude me. When I fuck up, act like a jerk, or do something rude, he lets me have it. Sure, he’s polite and waits until we’re alone, but he does not forget. He does not let it go. He addresses it and forces me to put it out there and deal with it. After the concert, I got a freakin’ ear load when we went to bed. He laid into me. Hard. But, he was right, you were right, I was a bitch to Pepper.”
“So I’m still not really seeing the point. I mean
, I just told her we’re over,” I remind her.
“What was the point of her responses to you in that conversation today?”
“I don’t know! To push so hard that I bailed?” I cry out, frustrated with all this woman logic.
“DING
DING DING! We have a winner! What did you do?”
“I bailed
,” I whisper.
“You bailed. You played right into her mindset. You proved that she is worth walking away from
,” she whispers back.
“But I don’t feel that way.”
“DUH. I know that. It’s plain as day. You’re like a pathetic lost puppy right now. You still did it, though,” she answers.
“Well what the fuck
, Clara! What am I supposed to do now?” I bellow, completely aggravated by the situation that I clearly messed up.
“Go. Get. Her.”
She spells it out for me like I’m five.
“She’s probably all mad and shit.”
“I’ll repeat since you seem to be deaf tonight. Go. Get. Her. NOW,” she says again. “Make it count, Sawyer. Tell her the truth.”
“And what exactly is the truth?” I ask
.
“That you love her. That she can act like a jerk all she wants but you’re not going to give up on her. That you are going to force her to see the beautiful side she keeps hidden from herself. That you’re going to be like a leech until she does see it!” she rattles off quickly
.
“A leech?”
“Okay, leave that part out, but...”
“I get it
,” I cut her off. “Go force her to be with me,” I answer. Clara groans and smacks me.
“Do NOT say it like that to her. But, yes, go force her to be with you.”
She laughs.
“Clara
,” I state quietly.
“Sawyer.”
“I’ve really fucking missed you,” I tell her and lean in to kiss her forehead.
“Me too. I’m sorry I’m an asshole
,” she replies, hugging me.
“Me too.” I chuckle. She swats me again and promptly yells at me to get the fuck out of her house and win back my woman
.
I jog to the door
, feeling like I need to rush to Pepper. I can’t get there fast enough. I’m not sure if this is a brilliant plan or not seeing as she will be at work. Can this happen publicly? Maybe Clara’s wrong on that small detail, maybe I should wait until she’s home and we can talk in private. I stare at the bike, helmet on, and wonder what I’m forgetting. Clara yells from the stoop.
“Keys
, asshole!” She tosses them to me and, surprisingly, given I feel like a nervous wreck, I catch them without issue and fire up the bike. With a quick wave of my hand I tear out of the driveway and speed towards Christiansburg.
Please don’t let me
be too late. That’s the last rational thought that enters my head as I pull into the parking lot at Pepper’s work. People are rushing out the door in droves and huddling together near parked cars. I hear the roar of a Harley and turn my head to see a SuperLow speeding away. It’s a newer bike. I’ve only seen a couple around. Carmine. I pull up to the front of the building, kill the bike, toss my helmet, and jog to the front door. People are yelling at me not to go in. Sirens blare in the distance. What the hell has happened? My gut clenches. Pepper.
Darting through the doors
, I head directly for the counter where Pepper usually sits. My feet skid to a halt when I see her facing a derelict-looking man in a standoff.
Chapter 25
Fingers rest easily on the trigger of both guns. Quiet confidence rolls off Pepper. A standoff. There’s blood in her eyes. Blood and fire. I watch her delicate shoulders rise and fall with determination. My stomach is a solid mess of knots. What the fuck is going on? Who is she? Who is he? Why the hell do they have guns trained on each other? The intensity on her face speaks volumes. She’s eerily calm and blank. Intense, but calm and blank. Her body looks comfortable pointing a pistol. She looks comfortable. Why isn’t she freaking out?
Her pupils look tiny and she stares at the man snarling in front of her but it’s as if she’s staring right through him. She’s somewhere else. Her eyes aren’t hers. No warmth lives in them. She’s hard and calculating. Her stance
is firm, unwavering. She’s not scared. She looks ready, eager even. I’m sucking air. My heartbeat seems so loud I think it might give me away. She doesn’t acknowledge my presence or maybe she’s so focused she doesn’t notice me. “
Titanium
” blares from the speakers. It’s odd. It sounds too loud for the eerily quiet space.
“Pepper?” I call out, wishing my voice didn’t sound so fearful and small. I can hardly breathe
.
The man’s head whips around to face me. His body jerks towards me
, too, gun swinging in my direction. He looks soulless, evil. His eyes are black as coal. He is weathered and beaten down but his eyes are crazed. A cracking sound fills the air, deafening me, the sharp sound of a bullet leaving the chamber. The man’s head explodes in a mass of red rain. It splatters everywhere in a wide path behind him as his head jerks unnaturally backward. He crumbles to the ground in a limp pile, eyes open. Well, the one eye that’s left in his head. I want to look the other way, but my head won’t turn, my eyes won’t close. A man was just shot ten feet from me. He is there. Dead. I can’t breathe.
I fucked the woman who just murdered in cold blood. No signs of remorse grace her features. In fact, no emotion shows at all as I turn my head toward hers in horror. She stares blankly, head tilted to the right just barely
, and looking lost in thought as her shoulders rise and sink rhythmically.
Sadness fills the air around her. When her eyes meet mine
, something like reality hitting, maybe, flickers in them. Everything feels like it is in slow motion. Frame by frame I watch as she drops to her knees, gun banging off the floor. Her lips move in a succession that resembles counting. I don’t want to take a breath, don’t want to exhale. I’m nailed to the floor, my fingers tightly balled into fists, my stomach gone to shit. I’m not equipped for this.
“It's done. It's done. It's done
,” she chants on a breath as if she's forcing herself to accept something. There’s a rawness in her tone, like she’s close to cracking open.
Her body trembles so harshly I think her bones will snap under the vibrations. With
boldness I didn’t anticipate having, I approach her. Her eyes look up to mine, wide and scared. The color has drained from her face. She looks like porcelain, fragile porcelain. Pain, deep anguish contorts her features. I sink to my knees, reaching out for her. Her arms come around my body and keep me firmly connected to her. What am I doing? What just happened? My arms form a protective cage around her, her face in the nook of my neck, our torsos fully pressed into one another, and still she trembles.
“Pepper,” I start.
“It’s done, Sawyer,” she says, her voice so raw, the edges of her words blunt and warbling.
“What’s done
, love?” I ask softly. Sirens blare in the background. She’s going to go to prison for this. The man looked scary but he made no move to harm her. His crime was being distracted by me. She shot in cold blood. Cold blood. One second he was alive, the next he wasn’t. I feel ill every time I blink. The image of his head exploding won’t leave. My gut says to listen to her words. She may be young and sometimes reckless with her own life, but I know deep down she’s not a cold blooded killer.
“My objective
,” she releases, sighing deeply. Her hands clutch me hard, sweating. Looking up at me, she whimpers before the first tear dribbles down her cheek. I smooth it away with my thumb as she starts weeping.
Broken
.
Something inside her just cracked. Split wide and shattered. I don’t know what, but it’s clearly something agonizingly painful. Splaying my legs out in front of me, I pull her head against my shoulder and hold her. The doors burst open as men in black vests and
SWAT gear swarm into the lobby area, men with ATF hats and shirts, boots, and walkie-talkies buzzing. It’s surreal as I hold this broken woman in my arms.
“I’m here
, Mags.”
I lift my face from her
honeysuckle-scented hair to find Bentley. Motherfucking Bentley. Pepper lifts her head slowly. She looks drained and lifeless. Hollow.
“It’s done.”
She sobs even more desolately than before, vicious tremors coursing through her body again. Bentley leans down, grabbing her by the armpits, and lifts her up and out of my hold. She melts into his firm frame without hesitance. Jealousy pumps through me.
Mad
.
Hurt
.
She’s not mine. Dammit. I made sure of that. I didn’t want lies. I didn't want broken again. I pushed. She pushed. We never found a middle ground. She turns her head to look at me while he holds her, stroking her hair and talking softly in her ear
.
“Don’t leave me
,” her voice softly calls out, stunning me. Her eyes lock on mine. She wants me here. No more resistance. Here with her. My head nods its affirmation before my mouth can compute something to say and I smile at her, the kind of smile that only happens in times of anxiety. I want this, right? I came to tell her I wanted her. But murder? Shit. Shit!
I follow Pepper and Bentley to the hospital, somehow managing to text Clara the limited information I know because I don’t think tomorrow will be a good day to take Allie. She responds instantly
, telling me to call if I need anything. Once we get to the ER entrance, I hand my keys to the valet and try to remember how I got here. I don’t recall the drive. I don’t recall anything but that man’s head exploding in front of me. Bentley slaps me on the shoulder, hard, jarring me from my trance.
“If you can’t accept her and be strong for her right now, you don’t fucking deserve her
,” he grates, glowering. I stare coldly back at him and nod. I follow him into the bustling lounge area and wait as he talks with a fellow ATF agent before moving through a pair of double doors towards the private rooms.
Pepper lies on a gurney in stark room
, looking pale and fragile. So different from how she normally looks. Emotions pummel me. I’m angry and confused, yet I want to be there for her. I don’t know what to say to her, though. I don’t know how to comfort her.