Chapter 28
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
GUNNER
I’m still not sure it’s a good idea to bring Rebel to the hospital. Dad said that Uncle Stewart, Uncle Robert, and a bunch of other relatives are there too.
I have no idea what we’ll face, and I can’t promise that I’ll be around to protect Rebel if mom or Uncle Stewart get nasty.
“Gunner, that’s the hundredth time you’ve looked at me and sighed since we started driving. If it’s so distracting having me here, I can just get out now and catch a cab back to the school.”
I contemplate her words, torn between needing her around for my own sanity and wanting to keep her far, far away from my family drama.
However, when I think of Rebel getting hurt, it’s an easy choice.
“You should go back,” I say roughly.
Rebel folds her arms over her chest, a stubborn tilt to her chin. “Do you really mean that?”
I clamp my mouth shut.
She leans forward, her blue eyes searching my face. “Do you really want me to leave you alone right now?”
My Adam’s apple bobs.
I’m not strong enough to say yes.
“I’m staying,” Rebel says, wiggling further back in her chair and planting her arms over her chest like a protester with a sign that says ‘ we shall not be moved ’.
“I can drive if you don’t think you can handle it, buddy.” Benji leans forward, forcing his unwanted mug between the headrests. He smiles sweetly at Rebel. “I have my license.”
“You’re not driving,” I grind out. “And I’m not your ‘buddy’.”
“I’d like us to be friends.”
I scoff.
“We both care about, Rebel. I’d say we have that much in common, don’t we?” he adds.
Did he just say he ‘cares about Rebel’. To me?
“You can drive…” I growl. “Over my cold, dead body.”
“Alright, alright. No need to get testy.” Benji shrinks back like a balloon losing air.
How he managed to finagle his way into my truck is a mystery worth investigating.
All I remember is a panicked phone call with dad, informing me that mom fainted and she’d been transported to the hospital.
Next thing I knew, I was running to my truck and Rebel blocked my path. She offered to come with me and I wasn’t in my right mind, so I let her.
A moment later, the city slicker wormed his way into the backseat, spouting nonsense about ‘knowing a doctor friend at the hospital’.
Rebel was convinced by his words so she pleaded his case, claiming the guy could help. Help with what? I have no clue. All he’s good for is making moon eyes at Rebel and ticking me off.
“Hey.” Rebel puts her hand over mine. It’s a brief touch, but it soothes me like a startled horse with an expert rider. “Your mom’s going to be fine.”
I appreciate her words, especially because I can tell she’s sincere. Given how rocky her relationship is with my family, it means a lot.
“Did your dad call the… rest of your family?” Rebel asks tentatively.
I wince, hearing what she’s really asking. “Uncle Stewart will be there.”
She pulls her lips into her mouth and stares straight ahead. “Great.”
Again, I get the feeling that I shouldn’t be dragging her into this mess.
“Would you like to listen to some music?” Rebel asks.
As she extends her arm to turn the radio on, I reach out and weave my fingers into hers. Her jaw drops and she gives me a startled look.
I settle our joined hands on my leg. “I like the quiet.”
Rebel’s eyes dart to the stowaway in the backseat and she hisses, “Gunner.”
I run my thumb over the back of her hand, taking comfort in the touch.
She squirms and tries to pull her hand away.
I don’t budge.
Chewing on her bottom lip for a second, Rebel flings one more perturbed look at me before settling into her seat and accepting that my hand and hers are going to be connected for the rest of the ride.
Benji makes a couple sounds of discontent from the backseat but, since I’m driving, and he’s got no good excuse to be here anyway, he doesn’t say a word.
At the hospital, I release Rebel reluctantly and jog around the car to meet her on the sidewalk.
This is a really bad idea.
But Rebel isn’t intimidated at all. Her hair flounces against her back as she takes the lead and walks confidently to the nurse’s station.
“We’re looking for Carol Kinsey?” Rebel says to the nurse.
As I watch her, I feel a presence by my side.
“She shouldn’t be here,” our unwelcome guest complains.
I ignore him.
“I saw the way your mom treated her at the luncheon. All you’re doing is subjecting her to embarrassment and she won’t be able to fight back, especially if your mom’s sick. She’ll just stand there and take it.”
It bothers me that Benji knows Rebel that well.
Bothers me even more that he’s right.
“Rebel isn’t even your real girlfriend,” he grumbles, brushing at a stain on his shirt.
I whirl on him, ready to grab him by the collar. “What did you say?”
“Your mom is on the second floor in a recovery room.” Rebel’s voice interrupts what would have been Benji the Suit getting shoved into a wall. When neither of us moves, Rebel arches a brow. “Gunner?”
Battling guilt, worry, and frustration, I grab Rebel’s hand and send Benji a blistering look over my shoulder. His bottom lip trembles as if he’s scared, but he meets my stare head-on.
When he makes a move to follow us, I bark, “You stay here.”
“I’ll call you if we need you, Benji,” Rebel says, trying to smooth over the rough bite in my words.
Don’t hold your breath, buck-o. She’s not calling you anytime soon.
Rebel staggers behind me as I drag her to the elevator.
She wrenches her hand free as soon as we get on and the doors close in front of us. I retreat to a corner of the elevator, glaring. In the shiny chrome walls, I see my reflection. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Wicked dark scowl.
“What’s your problem?” Rebel stares at me. “Why are you dragging me around?”
My chest expands on a sigh.
“I get that you’re worried about your mom, but Benji’s not the enemy here. And neither am I.”
My head is pounding. I suck in a deep breath.
“Tell me. Honestly. Am I just an object to you?”
My expression shifts on a dime. What is she talking about?
“Back in the car, you held my hand to prove some stupid point to Benji. Just now, you dragged me away because you were angry with him too. I came to the hospital with you because I was worried. I didn’t sign up to be a trophy you two are competing for.”
I blink in surprise. Rebel is not a trophy to me. And I did not hold her hand in the car to ‘objectify’ her. I did it so I could breathe.
As I’m searching for a way to explain myself, the elevator doors open.
Rebel stalks out first.
I chase after her.
She picks up speed.
The woman is fast, but my legs are longer. It only takes me a moment to catch up. I stop in front of her, blocking her path.
Her frosty eyes fix on a point just over my shoulder.
I breathe out shakily. “You’re not a trophy, Rebel.”
She glances away.
“Look, I held your hand in the car because?—”
“Gunner.”
Quick footsteps thud down the hallway and all the blood drains from my face when I see Uncle Stewart.
The old man glares at Rebel, his mouth twisting into a sneer. “You sure have some nerve coming here when you’re the reason my sister-in-law’s in the hospital.”
Instinctively, I drag Rebel behind me and stare my uncle down. “Don’t talk to her.”
Uncle Stewart smirks. “Don’t be so dramatic, nephew. It’s unlike you.”
“Let’s go,” I whisper to Rebel. I take her hand again and circle around my uncle.
“I heard you didn’t come home last night,” Uncle Stewart calls.
Rebel freezes.
I stop moving and look back at my uncle.
His eyes track over to Rebel and there’s a glint I don’t like in them. “I can take a guess as to what you were doing all night long.”
My temper spikes and I lunge forward.
Rebel grabs my hand before I can make a move against my uncle.
Uncle Stewart laughs low in his throat.
“Gunner, don’t do this outside your mom’s hospital room,” Rebel warns quietly.
I step back, although everything in me strains to correct my uncle.
“What? Were you planning to hit me, boy?” Uncle Stewart shakes his head. “That’s the problem with your generation. You have no respect.”
“Respect is earned, not given,” I warn him. “Talk about Rebel again and I’ll show you what ‘no respect’ looks like.”