Chapter Fifty-One
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
GEMMA
I keep thinking she’s going to run. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I heard her dad’s Jeep crank, and I ran in to find her bags gone. I’m so terrified about it that I can’t face the ocean when I sit on the blanket to wait on her. I cross my legs and sit facing the house, one eye on her bedroom the entire time I’m texting Kade.
KADE
Any messages?
Nothing.
Apartment?
Clean.
We’ll move the rest of her things tomorrow.
Everything is good here.
Thanks, Kade.
I start to tap over to social media to occupy my time with watching videos, only to have another name pop up on my notifications that immediately makes my chest feel like someone is crushing it.
MADS
I saw Kade bringing in boxes on my way out to walk Zero.
What’s going on? Is Bonnie okay?
I sigh and remind myself none of this is about me.
He just wants what’s best for his friend.
She’s okay.
We’re at her dad’s. She’s safe.
Why is she there?
Why not here?
Things happened that she can tell you about when she’s ready.
It isn’t my place.
But I can tell you that she’s okay.
Did you tell her?
A shadow moves through her bedroom then, and I glance up to see her pulling on a pair of shorts. Every inch of me aches watching her, remembering the hell we went through just today.
Yeah. She knows.
And you’re sure she’s okay?
I promise.
I haven’t kidnapped her.
You guys are welcome to come out and take a break for a couple of days.
I’m not hiding her from you. She needed time off.
I think everyone could use time off.
We’ll talk logistics tomorrow.
Please trust me, Maddox.
He doesn’t reply to the last message.
I close my phone and set it down, looking up just in time to see Bonnie’s dad come to the glass door from the living room and look outside, kombucha in his hand. He waves my way, and I wave back, smirking at the way he’s been watching me set up this little date as if he’s finally seeing his daughter go to her prom.
It’s kind of fucking cute.
It feels weird to be smiling about anything right now. Still, I’m going to take every glimmer of happiness I can take.
A lump works its way into my throat when I see Bonnie coming outside. She has on high-waist, linen shorts and a loose, black, long-sleeve, button-down, with a single button clasped at her tits to keep it from flying open. Somehow, that simple outfit makes her look like she should be walking down a runway.
She spots her dad standing in the other room, and she flicks her hands in his direction, silently telling him not to spy on her. He smiles, holds his drink up to her, then pivots to return to his room.
“Has he been watching you this whole time?” Bonnie asks when she reaches the sand.
“Yeah,” I say, standing. “I feel like I’m a teenager being told not to close the bedroom door.”
Bonnie chuckles. “In his defense, this is his first time seeing me with someone who he didn’t think was ‘just a friend.’ Even with Kelsey, he had no idea. Mom knew. She could tell I was a lot more invested than just calling her my best friend.”
She steps onto the blanket and looks around us then, the cutest fucking smile on her lips.
“I love this,” she says, gesturing to our surroundings. “It’s really fucking cheesy. And if you were to ask me on any normal day my ideal date, I’d probably say a paint party and fuck in the bathroom while we were covered in different colors. But this… I like this a lot.”
“And now I know where to take you when you’re eventually mad about something,” I say.
She leans in, head tilting all the way back. “That’s how this is going to go? You’re going to use my favorite things against me when I’m mad?”
“Black cats and horror movies, right?” I ask. “That’ll get you into the white van.”
“Promise me handcuffs, and you have a deal.”
Her smiling lips pressing to mine have my heart aching. The kiss is brief, and yet in those few seconds, glints of a future press upon my mind that don’t look so devastating.
“Mm…” The noise escapes her when she pulls back. “When you imagined being able to kiss me any time you wanted, did you know it would feel like this?”
“Like what?” I ask, hand cupping her cheek.
“Easy… Free,” she answers. “Like nothing can hurt us.”
“Is that how you feel?”
“Yeah.”
The corners of my lips curve upward. I press my lips to her cheek, then take a step back and gesture to the picnic basket. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m actually fucking starving,” she says, snickering.
Time isn’t linear when it comes to her.
I entirely lose myself in our conversation, in each smile she peers at me with, every laugh that seems to linger in the breezy night air. I listen to every word in awe. I wasn’t sure how this would play out, and there’s still time for her to change her mind.
However, I’m desperate not to fuck it up, and yet, at the same time, I don’t want to miss out on anything by holding back.
We eat our dinner, and through the entire meal, I can’t stop beaming at her. She talks about her dad’s raw food lifestyle that he’s been on since her mom’s death—another topic she doesn’t avoid despite what pain it might bring up. I don’t think she notices, and I’m not about to question it, not with the wind blowing her wavy hair off her face or the steady smile on her lips.
“—show you some of the things she used to collect tomorrow,” she’s saying about her mom’s trinkets. “Oh, speaking of tomorrow, do we have plans or are we having a chill day?”
My brows narrow. “Since when do you ask about plans the day before?”
She smirks. “I got in a groove earlier with the song,” she says. “I was thinking about calling the guys in the morning and having a video jam session, but I didn’t know if we had… plans.”
“What kind of plans did you think we would have?” I warily ask.
“I don’t know. Revenge plans?”
I snort, nearly choking on my food. “Really?”
“I don’t know how this works.”
“Clearly not like that,” I taunt.
“No? So, what? We sit and wait, or do you like, find him or something?”
“Find who? Asshole?” I ask, referring to Rad.
“Yeah, that one,” she replies. “He’s the last one, right?”
I chuckle at her innocence. “You don’t need to worry about him, rockstar. I’ll deal with that.”
“What if I want to help?” she asks.
I consider her request. The reaction she had when Trevor was lying on that floor swarms through me. Everything she said. The look on her face.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” I ask.
Bonnie toys with the napkin in her hand. “I don’t know,” she admits. “But I do know I want to look him in the eye when he admits what he did to me.”
A quiet sigh leaves me, my heart hurting for her. “Okay.”
Because I can protect her enough to give her that.
She eyes me. “Really? You’re not going to tell me that’s too dangerous, and I shouldn’t worry myself with it?”
I frown. “Bonnie, he attacked you. If you want to confront him, I’m not taking that away from you. I just ask that you don’t go rogue and try to face him on your own. Let me be there to help you.”
Her eyes soften. She sits up on her knees, and I open my arms as she crawls across the blanket and straddles my lap. She fits perfectly on my crossed legs, her fingers raking up and down my arms as we sit quietly for a beat.
“I want you to know that didn’t mean what I said last night. When you came into the room wearing the mask, and I shouted at you to leave,” she eventually says. “You never ruined my life. I ruined my own life.”
“We don’t have to talk about this now if you’re not ready,” I say.
“No, I need to get this out,” she goes on. “I ruined my life when I took comfort in things that made me forget it instead of asking for help. Because I couldn’t face the pain. I couldn’t admit that I was drowning. A finger in the hemorrhage was faster and easier than stitches that would heal me. I should have been aware of my surroundings, and instead, I—”
“That was not your fault,” I interject. “Tell me, after all this time, you know those attacks were never your fault.”
Her gaze washes out to the ocean, and I feel like someone is twisting a knife in my chest.
“It felt like it,” she admits. “That was why I went to rehab the first time. I didn’t know if I was ready for help, but I thought… if I’d just been sober, maybe that wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I would have seen the roofie—”
“People like Rad don’t think twice because you’re drinking a soda,” I argue, my rage for her building. “They don’t care if it’s water in front of you. Those people… they’re the real villains of this world. The people who think everything around them is up for grabs, who don’t worry about the consequences because they’ve never had to worry that their future might be in jeopardy. The rest of us work our asses off only to be given a high-five while they’re handed the world on a platter because they spelled their names correctly. They do what feels good to them, fuck whatever pain it might cause someone else. Greed makes the world go around, Bonnie. Greed—whether it’s money, sex, power... Someone else’s greed does not equal your mandated compliance. You weren’t targeted because you were drunk or because your skirt was too short. You were targeted for their pleasure, nothing else.”
I press my knuckle to her jaw and turn her head so that she’s looking at me. “Rad will regret ever targeting you,” I say. “And I won’t say that I’ll take my last breath doing it because I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever again. Not after this.”
“Good because I was going to tell you not to even think about checking out on me,” she says.
Our lips meet in an unhurried manner, and she wraps her arms around my neck. I close my eyes and inhale her scent, the crashing waves…
I didn’t know how much I needed this until right now.
“Why me?” she asks.
I wasn’t prepared for this question.
Even if I thought it might come up, I’ve never been able to put my finger on a definitive reason.
Still, for her, I’ll try.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I think… even in high school, I was drawn to you. You were always so brave, loud, and outspoken. I think I was envious of the person you so freely were. At some point, I started needing to know everything about you, where you were, who you were with. I didn’t realize I was obsessed until I was forgoing my own needs just to watch you smile at someone else. I couldn’t get you out of my head. I wanted so badly to be with you, I just didn’t know how. I went to college thinking I could move on, and for a while, it worked. I had a normal life, a girlfriend, friends. And then, my friend dragged me to a concert in LA. A new, upcoming band that she’d seen online. Young Decay.”
Bonnie’s brows lift. “You were at that concert?”
“I saw you across the room, and everything came flooding back. Somehow, that obsession morphed in that moment. I saw you chatting with Rad, saw how angry you were when you walked away from him, and it just… it struck me—this possessive rage, this need to protect you at all costs… After that night, I didn’t know how to let you go. Even if I didn’t have the courage to become real to you, I’d make sure you lived long enough to find someone who’d protect and love you as I would. And that was my plan, until that Halloween night. That night changed everything.”
“You could have just talked to me,” she says.
I eye her smirk. “Tell me it would have been the same as this if I had simply said hi to you that night,” I say, leaning in to nuzzle the crook of her neck. “Tell me we would be who and what we are now.”
Her shoulders draw up as she hugs me closer, our bodies flush. “No,” she admits. “It wouldn’t be this… But that doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you for it.”
I smile against her skin before pulling back. “Take your time with it. Stay mad as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
She nudges her nose with mine. “Yeah, you’d better not.”
“I told you I was yours, and I meant it,” I add as our lips brush.
Her jagged breath skims my mouth. She braces her hand on my cheek, her forehead resting against mine. I wrap my hands around her ass and squeeze, eliciting a groan from her lips that raises the hair on my arms.
“Do you want to go inside?” I ask, kissing her neck.
“Hell yes.”
It’s a good thing Bonnie’s dad is a heavy sleeper.
The moment we get back inside, she decides she has to try to make her mom’s snickerdoodle cookies. And it’s so fucking cute that I don’t bother telling her the time or insisting she get some rest. We can bake cookies all night if that’s what she wants. So long as it occupies her mind and feeds the parts of her ever-healing soul, she can bake, cook, knit, punch, jam, read, anything… And I’ll stand by her side every minute of it.
Eventually, we’re covered in flour. My face aches from laughing and grinning as I try to help her recreate the recipe, even looking up instructions on my phone that she swears don’t sound right. In the end, she throws together a concoction that I think is going to become a disaster once it’s baked. Still, she swears by it, and crushing her spirit is the absolute last thing on my mind.
I’m on cloud nine from every kiss and touch we steal from each other while figuring it out.
“Wait, okay, I have to know.” She hops up onto the counter and grabs the bowl of leftover cookie batter. “Were you losing your shit the other night when I said your name?”
I don’t know what my face does, but Bonnie bursts out laughing.
“Oh my god, you were! ” she exclaims.
“I… I…”
I can’t even explain the absolute terror I felt at that moment.
“You were so mad,” Bonnie teases.
“I was… terrified and gleeful and just… everything all at once,” I admit before eating a few white chocolate chips directly from the bag.
“You grabbed my throat… hard .”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” I tell her. “I ran out of there because I went blank. And then you… You were so embarrassed about it that you didn’t speak to me for a week .”
“How was I supposed to look you in the eye after that?” she argues.
“You were such a brat pushing me away, though,” I tell her.
She snickers. “So then you had to fuck me to put me in my place.”
“I’ll do it again if that’s your preferred form of punishment,” I say.
“My preferred form of punishment is you as my stalker these last few weeks,” she admits, licking the spoon.
I tilt my head. “How do you mean?”
She shifts from leg to leg before crossing her feet under her. “I mean… In the dark. Not knowing when you might come or what you’ll do to me. Not being able to see your face. Feeling in control and completely vulnerable all at once. I’ve always been the person dominating in every casual one-night stand I’ve had. I used to chalk it up to me being Bonnie Miller , the rockstar. I had to show my groupies a good time, right?” She laughs at herself and shakes her head. “I was never able to let someone in the way I’m comfortable letting you in. Even with your mask, there was just something that…”
Her voice drifts like she’s collecting her thoughts, and she takes another lick of the batter on the spoon before she goes on.
“When you came back this time, I knew your intentions weren’t to hurt me. You’d seen me at my lowest, and while I didn’t know who you were, that meant something to me. At night, I was always on edge, and I realized I was craving that fear. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know your name or your face. Because of what we’d gone through, I felt safe when you touched me. I knew that if I asked you to stop, you would. You gave me that outlet to safely explore thrill and fear, and enjoy it the way I once had… Before they took it from me.”
I’m so glad three of them are dead.
“I crave fear and adrenaline,” she goes on, “and you gave me a safe place to explore that. You’re allowing me to truly begin to process what happened. And I don’t know if you realize how fucking much that means to someone like me. So, when I say my favorite punishment is you as my stalker, I mean...”
Her brows lift, and I screw back on the cap on my water.
“You want me to scare you?” I ask.
Her shoulders drop, a smile rising softly on her lips. “Please fucking terrify me,” she almost begs. “Any limit you think might be too much, double it. I want to know what I’m really scared of. I need to know where I draw the line because for the first time, I actually feel safe enough to find it.”
I step up to her, unable to swipe the smirk off my lips, and I take the bowl and spoon out of her hands to place beside her. My heart has skipped at least twice since she began talking, and I’m dying inside at her confession.
“Sounds like we need a safe word,” I say, placing my hands on her thighs.
“Can it be ridiculous?” she asks.
“Please,” I reply.
“Mushrooms.”
I snort despite myself. “Mushrooms?”
“I hate mushrooms,” she tells me. “Zeb always eats them on any food we get while on tour.”
“They’re so good, though,” I argue.
She makes a gagging noise. “You and Zeb can fight over them if we go out together then.”
I snicker and lean in to place a quick kiss on her sugar-lined lips. “Mushrooms it is.”