Chapter 60
CHAPTER
SIXTY
GUNNER
Turns out, if you post a dramatic family showdown live on the retirement group home chat, it takes half a day for the rest of the town to hear about it.
In detail.
And then in exaggerated detail.
And then in details that never actually happened.
By evening’s end, without dad having to call anyone over, the entire family floods my parent’s home to discuss the matter.
At first, there’s a lot of shouting and demands. Some family members insist that only Uncle Clarence and Uncle Stewart should pay for the damages. Others suggest we should find a lawyer and counter-sue so we don’t have to pay a cent.
Dad spells out what losing a court case will mean for us—filing for bankruptcy, losing our retirement accounts and houses, giving up all gold, jewelry, and even the furniture and clothes we own.
My uncles and aunts flinch.
“Carol, what do you think of this?” Uncle Robert asks, looking at my mother with desperation in his eyes.
The rest of the family turn to mom too. She’s been silent through most of the chaos. In fact, ever since Uncle Stewart was transported to the county jail and Uncle Clancy became the first Kinsey to have a wanted notice publicized on the nightly news, she hasn’t said much at all.
“I’m just observing who my real friends are , ” mom told me when I asked her if she was okay.
Marjorie White’s been noticeably keeping her distance from the house, and mom missed the last Lady Luck Society meeting. I’m considering whether I should ask Rebel, the new face of the Society, to help mom out.
“I think a settlement is a great idea,” mom says, stunning the room into silence.
“But Carol!”
“Whoever would like to take this to court, can do so. After you lose everything, I will be sure to share canned food with you and you may use the wooden shed at the back of the property until you get back on your feet.”
Everyone flinches.
Mom smiles tightly. “Cake anyone?”
Later that evening, I head to the ladies’ outdoor garage. With Uncle Stewart behind bars, the Safety Committee should be scrambling to give April and Rebel their shop back but, instead, they’re doubling down.
Chance’s lawyers have officially sued the organization. I don’t know much about law but, from what Chance has explained to me, his lawyers are confident that the Safety Committee is about to get creamed. At least those lawyers are finally good for something.
Rebel’s bent over the open hood of a car, looking utterly angelic while fiddling around with the engine. A pink bandana is tied around her forehead and a ponytail dangles over the shoulder of her pink jumper.
Blue eyes flit to me and then crinkle with a warm, genuine smile. “Gunner, you’re early.”
I wave in a silent instruction take your time. Then I take a seat around the table, watching her work. She moves with confidence, putting wires together, staring at waveforms on her laptop and cleaning car parts that I probably couldn’t name if my life was on the line. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Huh.” April’s voice makes me jump. I look over my shoulder at Chance’s girlfriend as she takes a can of soda from the fridge. “Chance was right. You do melt.”
I arch a brow.
She smirks at me and then at Rebel. “I’m glad you know how lucky you are, Kinsey. Never forget it.”
“I won’t,” I respond. I’m no idiot. I was lucky enough to gain Rebel’s heart but, more importantly, I was lucky enough to gain Rebel’s trust. Life will change and the both of us might change with it, but my adoration of Rebel Hart will always be the same.
Oblivious to our conversation, Rebel runs around the hood of the car, takes her place in the driver’s seat and turns the key. The engine rumbles to life and she throws her hands up.
“Success!”
I applaud, “Nice shot.”
Rebel rolls her eyes. “Calm down, hockey boy. I only fixed one problem out of many. The game’s not over yet.”
I walk over to her and slip my arm around her waist. “But you’ll take a break now, right? Because…” I lean in and whisper in her ear, “I’m hungry.”
She laughs and tilts her head up to kiss me.
“Rebel! Yoo-hoo!”
Marjorie White saunters into the garage. Rosalie and Cecelia Davis wobble behind her. The ladies are carrying an extremely large vase.
Seeing them struggle, I take the heavy burden from them.
“Rebel, we saw this beautiful flower vase while we were shopping and just had to bring it over to you.” Marjorie waves a hand at me and says disdainfully, “Put it there, Gunner. And watch it. That vase costs a lot of money. I know you can’t afford to buy it back if you break it.”
I almost drop the vase out of spite.
Marjorie takes out a twenty and pats it against my chest. “Here you go, sweetie. A little goes a long way.”
I glare at her and let the twenty plummet to the ground, untouched.
Rebel snaps, “Give the vase back, Gunner.”
I happily set the vase down and back away from it.
Rebel marches forward. “Marjorie, what are you doing here?”
“I came to brighten up your beautiful, outdoor workspace and offer my help.” Marjorie puts on a Cheshire-cat smile and takes Rebel’s hand, barely hiding her flinch when she realizes Rebel’s gloves are dirty.
“What exactly do you want to help me with?” Rebel asks, folding her arms over her chest.
“As the most influential and wealthy young woman in town, there’s a certain expectation upon you that might be overwhelming.”
Rosalie and Cecilia Davis nod like the parrots that they are.
“We know you’re not used to how things in our circle work, so,” Marjorie sprawls her hands out dramatically, “as your Lady Luck Society sisters, we’re here to teach you all you need to know.”
“What a… thoughtful offer.” Rebel loops her hand around my arm. The smile on her face does not reach her eyes and I hide my smirk because I know what’s coming next won’t be pretty. “Since you’re here, Marjorie, now is the perfect time to inform you that I will no longer be a part of the Lady Luck Society.”
“What?” Marjorie White gasps dramatically.
“Why?” Rosalie whines.
“I’ll be starting my own association.”
“Well,” Marjorie grapples to salvage the conversation, “how does one join this association of yours?”
“If you’re interested in joining, you’ll have to speak to Carol.”
Marjorie’s cheeks turn red and her lips tighten as if she’s just tasted something bitter.
Rebel leans her head against my shoulder. “Thank you for the flowers, but I’m afraid we don’t have space to accommodate them.” Rebel gestures to the very spacious outdoor garage. “I’ll have to ask you to take them back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my boyfriend. April!”
“Yeah!” April pops her head out of a car hood.
“I’m done for the day!”
“Got it!” April says.
Rebel leaves Marjorie gaping at her and tugs me to the sink where she disposes of her pink gloves and washes her hands.
I lean one hand against the wall, looking down at her with a pleased smile. “Are you really going to invite my mom to your association?”
“I thought I wanted to join the Lady Luck Society to help people, but really, I just wanted to prove I belonged. Now that I’ve tasted what it feels like to really help people though, I don’t want to stop. The Lady Luck Society was nice, but it’s too superficial now. It’s gotten rotten. I want to build something from the ground up that’s meant to help and that continues to help the people who need it most.”
“Where does my mom come in?” I wonder.
Rebel’s pretty pink lips inch upward. “Your mom is a force to be reckoned with and if the Lady Luck Society is dumb enough to ostracize her, I’m taking the opportunity to steal her away.”
Delia comes to the sink too and rinses something under the faucet. She looks closely at Rebel. “Did you kick those rich ladies out?”
“Sort of,” Rebel says with a shrug.
“Cool.” With that, the mechanic moves away and returns to her work.
I look down at Rebel and find her eyes sparkling. “Why are you so happy?”
“Delia just called me cool,” she gushes. “Do you know what a compliment that is?”
“You don’t get that excited when I give you compliments.”
Rebel scrunches her nose. “Yeah, well, you don’t ride a Harley or know how to diagnose a faulty timing belt. It’s different.” She pulls the clip out of her ponytail and her blonde hair spills around her shoulders, turning her from astoundingly beautiful to jaw-droppingly gorgeous. “Besides, you’re my boyfriend. You say nice things all the time.”
I frown because it sounds like she’s saying my compliments aren’t as genuine.
Rebel flicks me with water and laughs softly. “Your expression just got really intense. I’m afraid to know what you’re thinking.”
I gravitate closer to her, still leaving one hand on the wall and the other in my pocket. Rebel inches back, her eyes widening. The superpower I’ve honed after years of quietly watching Rebel Hart is that I can read her better than she can read me. At least for now. And I like what I see.
A lot.
“Do you know… you only get self-conscious around me?” I whisper.
“I am not self-conscious,” Rebel says, fiddling with a wisp of her hair.
I gather her by the small of her back, pulling her closer to me and staring intently into her eyes. “Shyness looks good on you.”
“I am not shy.”
That gets a smile out of me.
“Oh my gosh, Gunner. Do not smile at me in here. This is a no kissing zone.”
I tilt my head and keep watching her.
She stares back at me.
And my heart thumps just like it always does. Just like it will for the rest of my life.
I whisper reverently, “Sometimes, Rebel Hart, you’re so beautiful that I wonder if you’re real.”
Rebel’s nostrils flare and her crystal blue eyes become more black than blue.
I take in that mesmerizing expression for a glorious moment. Then, I let her go and step back. With a satisfied grunt, I mutter, “It’s settled. I give the better compliments.”
She flicks me with more water and grumbles under her breath, stomping away.
I don’t suppress my grin as I follow her out to the car and take my kind, beautiful, accomplished, intelligent girlfriend on a date.