Chapter 45
CHAPTER
FORTY-FIVE
GUNNER
The Present
The moment Rebel Hart bursts into my uncle’s office in her pink mechanic jumper, an unsettled feeling lands in my stomach.
I rushed over here to protect her.
But the optics…
Will she jump to conclusions and assume I’ve been plotting with Uncle Stewart against her and the garage?
The fire in Rebel’s eyes blazes brighter when she looks at me and the knot in my gut twists even more.
“Rebel.” Uncle Stewart’s lips curl up in a menacing smile. “I heard there was trouble today. Everything alright?”
I press my lips together as my gaze sweeps to the floor.
“You know…” Uncle Stewart hisses, “the inspector is a really close friend of mine. I could be convinced to talk to him on your behalf.”
Rebel makes a disgusted sound. “I doubt you’d be so generous as to offer that for free.”
“My terms are simple. Call off Chance McLanely’s lawyers and I’ll make all the bad things…” Uncle Stewart waves both hands, “ poof . Go away.”
The old man looks back at me, his smile tinged with victory.
Bad things will happen…
I realize that whatever he’s doing to attack The Pink Garage isn’t only to put Rebel and April in their places. It’s also a warning for me.
And it’s a warning I hear loud and clear.
Rebel advances, nostrils flaring. “Listen here, Stewart Kinsey, because I’m only going to say this once.” Her hair bounces against her back and the sparkly clip she keeps at the front slides down to her ears. “You made a big mistake going after my garage and my people. I planned to leave you alone because I thought you were pathetic enough without any help from us…”
Uncle Stewart’s mouth slacks. “Pathetic?”
“… but now I don’t have a shred of care left.” Rebel points at him. “I’m coming for you, Kinsey. So sit back and enjoy. I’ll show you why you were right to be scared of us.”
Uncle Stewart charges to his feet and lurches forward threateningly.
I’m on the move in the blink of an eye. Standing so fast the chair I was sitting in topples over, I take big strides until I’m standing in front of Rebel. My expression darkens with a menacing scowl. I silently dare my uncle to take a step toward her.
He comes to a screeching halt, amusement glinting in his eyes.
I hope he’s not assuming that I wouldn’t hurt him.
I wouldn’t want to.
But I also won’t allow one hair on Rebel’s head to be harmed. Not on my watch.
Rebel takes my hand and I spin to look at her. She juts her chin at the door in a silent ‘let’s get out of here’. I follow her, eager to whisk her as far away from my uncle as possible.
“Ms. Hart.” Uncle Stewart’s stern voice halts our exit.
Rebel stops.
I freeze.
“That hand you’re holding… how long do you think you can keep holding on to it?”
Fear crawls over my throat and the world spins like a ride I desperately want to get off.
Uncle Stewart digs his fingers in the wound deep inside me by adding, “Your looks can do a lot for you, but it can’t change objective truths. And the truth is, no matter how much my nephew loves you, no matter how much he cares, at the end of the day blood is blood. Gunner will always be a Kinsey.”
The swirling storm in the pit of my stomach rages, making me nauseous. I hear what Uncle Stewart isn’t saying. As a Kinsey, even the sins that aren’t mine are still mine to bear. I’ll always represent the best and the worst of my family.
To the world.
And to Rebel.
Especially to Rebel.
Rebel tugs me out of the room while Uncle Stewart cackles behind us. We pass my uncle’s workmen and keep going until we get outside.
“Oooh!” Rebel shudders. “That man is awful ! Does he really think I’ll strike a deal with him after what he did? Typical Kinsey! So full of himself.” Rebel realizes what she’s said and her face stamps with guilt. “I didn’t mean?—”
I give her a tight-lipped smile.
“Don’t let what he said bother you. You’re nothing like your uncle.”
I don’t respond. Mostly because I’m having a hard time breathing.
“Gunner? Are you okay? You’re so pale.” Rebel dabs at my temple with the heel of her hand. “And you’re sweating.”
“Are you okay?” I ask tightly.
“Yeah, for now.” Rebel steps into me, her eyes cautious. “Did your uncle call you over today?”
I can tell she’s putting great effort into not accusing me of anything.
“I heard he was stirring things up at the Safety Committee.”
“Yeah, your uncle managed to shut down our garage.”
Surprise ripples across my chest, temporarily stealing my breath. “What?”
“Just a sec, Gunner. April is calling. Hello?” Rebel walks away with her cell phone to her ear. While she updates her business partner, I wilt against my truck, sucking in deep breaths.
Uncle Stewart is boldly making moves, which means that whoever is behind him is ready to clear the board. The timing couldn’t be worse. I’ve yet to find any concrete evidence of what my family did or a way to gain the upper hand.
To make matters worse, Rebel and I are at the beginning stages of our relationship. I doubt we’ll be able to survive a ‘my family might have ruined yours’ conversation this early on.
I hear Rebel’s footsteps approaching and straighten.
She pockets her phone, her sky-blue eyes glued to me. “Gunner, you really don’t look well.”
I shake my head. “Are you going home now?”
“Yeah, April and Chance are going to meet me there so we can strategize on what to do next.” She offers a brave smile. “It’ll work out somehow.”
Not if my uncle has his way.
I nod to my truck. “I’ll come with you.”
She holds up a hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The hitch in her voice makes me stop and look down at her.
“This is a little complicated given… I mean… he’s your uncle.”
I step back.
Rebel winces. “I’m not blaming you at all, Gunner. It’s just that April and I probably won’t have any nice things to say right now, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. The last thing I want is to put you in an awkward position.”
It’s not that I’ll be uncomfortable. It’s that she’ll be uncomfortable.
I guess Uncle Stewart was right.
In her eyes, I’ll always be a Kinsey.
I take another step back. “Go have your meeting with April and Chance.”
“Gunner…”
“Let me walk you to your car.”
Rebel gnaws on her bottom lip as I escort her to the pink truck.
She sneaks a peek at me. “Are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You look angry.”
“I’m not.”
“Would you tell me if you were?” She pouts. “You wouldn’t.”
I open the door for her. “Call me if you need me. I’ll come running.”
“I know.” She offers me a sad smile.
After she drives off, I return to my truck and release a weary sigh.
What do I do now?
Uncle Stewart attacked The Pink Garage and he may have another bomb to drop to make sure they stay down. The situation is quickly getting out of control. How do I put an end to this before it escalates any further?
Lost in my thoughts, I hear a knock on my window.
It’s Rebel.
Her eyes are burning blue jewels in her face and she flaps her hands, indicating that I should lower the window. I do, my gaze wide and questioning.
“I thought you’d left,” I say.
“I came back to tell you something,” she replies, sounding winded.
I brush a lock of her hair away from her cheeks, waiting.
“We are not on opposite sides of this fight,” she says, her voice low and earnest. “I trust you, Gunner. But I’m not ready to ask you to choose me over your family.” Rebel licks her lips. “Maybe it’s because I’m afraid of the choice you’d make…” Her eyes dart away. “Or maybe it’s because I don’t think I’m deserving of being chosen either.”
My gaze snaps to hers and, for a fleeting moment, I feel the weight of those words like an anchor driving me deep into the core of the earth.
“It took a lot of courage to come back and tell you that, but we promised we’d be honest with each other. And that’s honestly how I feel.”
“I understand,” I say, wishing I could give her the assurance she needs.
But I can’t say more.
I don’t dare to.
Because she’s mistaken.
The choice that will determine our future isn’t one I’ll make between my family and Rebel.
It’s a choice Rebel will have to make between my family… and me.
True terror seeps through me when I think of her not choosing us. It’s so real, that I push out of the window, cradle her chin in my palm and kiss her while I still can.
The touch of my lips on hers is featherlight, the faintest whisper, a question rather than a claim. My fingers slide over her neck and tangle in her long, blonde hair. I tilt my head, slowing the pace of my strokes and letting my eyes squeeze shut.
I want to remember everything about her, about this moment.
The slight hitch of her breath as my mouth grazes across her strawberry-sweet lips.
The citrusy scent of her carried on the breeze.
The way her hair falls like a silky waterfall over my knuckles.
Rebel kisses me back, balancing herself on the running board and wrapping her arms around the back of my neck.
I stroke her mouth with mine and tilt her head to sip from her one more time before backing off. Not too far though. My breath mingles with hers, the connection between us fragile but achingly real.
Rebel pulls her lips into her mouth as if to savor the lingering buzz of the kiss.
I could sit here, staring at her through the window, all day. But a whistle erupts behind us. A few mechanics are gathered at the door of the garage and they’re staring our way.
I scowl and Rebel ducks her head self-consciously.
“Call me,” I demand gruffly.
“I will.”
“I’ll bring lunch after your meeting.”
That earns me a bigger smile.
Rebel hops off the running board and sends me a tiny wave before hurtling back to her truck.
The tightness in my chest fades a bit as I watch her back out of the lot.
Maybe there’s hope for us.
Maybe we really can get through this with our relationship intact.
Just then, my phone chirps.
I answer distractedly. “Hello?”
“Gunner,” my mom sounds excited, “get home quick. You won’t believe who just rolled into town!”
There’s a rustling sound, as if mom’s handing over the phone and then a dark voice croaks…
“ Hello, Gunner .”
Ice runs through my veins.
That voice instantly carries me back to my grandfather’s funeral and the instruction that changed the course of my life forever.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
My mind whirs with chaos.
My stomach roils threatening to bring back everything I had for breakfast this morning.
“I think,” the throaty voice whispers, “you and I need to have a chat.”