Chapter 19
Gunner
I went to war as a young man full of bravado and anger. When I returned, I wasn’t the same. The things I saw and did changed me. I was always quiet, introverted, the kind of person who observed. But when I came home I withdrew even more. The only people I am close to are Angel, Drifter, and Buzz. And even then, I didn’t share everything that happened to me with them.
They know I did horrible things. That I was captured and tortured by the enemy. That I have PTSD and don’t like to be touched now, they’re the only people I can tolerate touching me. But they don’t know the details. I’ll take those to the grave with me.
For the first time since I returned, I feel like letting someone else in.
Like the others, when I first saw Skye, I found her attractive. I enjoyed watching them with her and I was surprised when she willingly submitted to having sex my way, that she actually seems to enjoy it—it’s not exactly easy to form relationships if you can’t bear to be touched.
I wasn’t expecting to have feelings for her, for it to ever become more than sex. But it’s as though she was perfectly made for all four of us.
She’s almost too good to be true.
We’ve been in the bar for a while now. Our men came back with the news that they’d roughed up some of the Demon Riders’ main guys in retaliation, a clear sign that we mean business and that this is officially war. Tomorrow, we plan to pay Bill Anderson a visit at his office. But for now, we’re drinking and sharing stories about Brewer. I’ve been watching her as she chats and drinks, her smile lighting up the room, chasing the darkness that’s inside all of us away. I see the way the others look at her too, and I know I’m not alone in falling for her.
The thought scares me shitless.
I tear my gaze away from Skye, distracting myself by surveying the room. Everyone is getting pretty wasted tonight, a sort of wake for Brewer. We all know a war is coming, but for tonight, we’re not thinking about that. We’re celebrating the life of a dear friend. To an outsider, the bar’s atmosphere feels almost jovial with people laughing and smiling. In fact, the only person who isn’t having a good time is Veronica. She’s sat at the bar drinking alone and shooting angry glances in our direction.
I never liked Veronica. She was always too into Angel, seeing the rest of us as a necessary duty to get to him. Fucking her felt like she was putting on a show for him. I could tell she wasn’t remotely into it. A total turn-off. The last time we all bothered with her she was stupid enough to ignore our advice not to touch me and I lost it. Thankfully, the others were there so nothing bad happened. But since then, we’ve turned her sexual advances down. I can tell it’s killing her to see Skye with us now. She’s practically green, she’s so jealous—as if she could hold a candle to Skye.
My attention is brought back to our table as Skye smiles and laughs at something Drifter just said, tucking her hair behind her ear and blushing in that adorable way she does. I feel the urge to reach out and touch her, to kiss her.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she says, getting up from the table and sashaying over toward it.
I notice Veronica follow a moment after her. Sensing trouble, I get up and head toward the bathrooms. When I round the corner to the corridor where they are, I see Veronica has cornered Skye.
“You fucking bitch. You think they want you, just wait, they’re mine,” Veronica hisses getting in Skye’s face.
I half expect Skye to smack her in her smug face, but something seems off with her today. She looks as though something Veronica said has shaken her.
“Don’t even think about touching her, Veronica,” I growl, stepping closer.
The women both look up at me, eyes wide with surprise to see me standing there.
“Oh look, they sent the rabid dog to fetch you,” Veronica drawls, glaring at me in disgust. “Of course he’s got puppy dog eyes for you. The retard who doesn’t like to be touched and the woman who no man wants to touch, it’s a match made in heaven,” Veronica spits, pushing Skye with all her might and sending Skye stumbling back.
I step forward, grabbing Veronica and hurling her off Skye. “Get the fuck out of our bar before I kill you,” I warn, my voice calm.
Veronica must sense how serious I am as she does as she’s told. But she can’t resist a parting shot. “Gladly, you two deserve each other. It’s just Angel I want. You can keep the mutt if he still wants you sweetheart, that’s if any of them will still want you,” she says with a laugh, tossing her hair and baring her teeth at Skye in a wide, feral smile.
I ignore her, my gaze focused on Skye who, to my surprise, starts to cry. I step closer to wipe a tear from her cheek, surprising us both with the gesture.
“Don’t let her get to you,” I say softly.
She looks at me with those big, beautiful blue eyes, filled with trust, as though I’m her knight in shining armor rather than the monster she needs protecting from. Without thinking, I lean down and kiss her. She stands still, unsure of how to react, knowing my limitations. But she soon kisses me back as I wrap my arms around her waist holding her close. It feels so god damned good to hold and kiss a woman again. But then, just the lightest touch of her hand on my side brings me crashing back to earth and I pull away abruptly.
This isn’t good. When people get close to me, they get hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I say before rushing off leaving a bewildered and hurt-looking Skye behind.
“What’s going on man?” Drifter asks as I burst out, passing their table.
“I can’t…” I shake my head unable to get the words out. “I need to go to bed,” I say before rushing off to the solitude of my room.
***
Gunfire. Screams. Blood. So much blood. Agonizing pain.
Rats crawling all over my skin.
Hands touching me, expertly meting out the worst pain imaginable.
Screams.
A distant voice.
“Gunner.”
They’re here. I have to kill them before they kill me.
I lash out, gripping them by the throat and squeezing.
“Gunner, please.”
My body is flooded with adrenaline as the fear makes me strong.
“Gunner, please it’s me. It’s Skye.”
Her voice finally breaks through my nightmare, and I blink, awake and confused.
Skye is in my room, she’s above me, her eyes wide with pain. I realize with horror that my hands are around her neck, and I immediately let go. She coughs, catching her breath and I scoot away from her, afraid I might hurt her again.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…” I say disgusted at myself, at how close I came to hurting her.
She shakes her head and to my amazement, she doesn’t seem afraid. She’s not running away screaming, she’s still here, sitting on my bed and looking at me with kindness and love in her eyes.
“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you while you were having a nightmare. It’s just I heard screaming, and I didn’t think…” she says, her voice guilty.
Only Skye could blame herself for this and be the one apologizing to me.
“I’m a monster. I could have hurt you,” I say, angry with myself.
“But you didn’t. You would never hurt me intentionally,” she says. When I don’t respond she continues, “I’m fine. Really.”
Seeing her genuine expression helps me to relax a little.
“Do you get them often? Night terrors,” she asks gently.
“I used to. I don’t as much now. I guess everything today triggered it,” I explain.
“That’s understandable.”
“I have PTSD,” I add, feeling the need to explain to her why I’m so fucked up.
“I guessed as much,” she replies with a half-smile. “You can talk to me. If you want, that is.”
“I don’t like to think about it too much. I did some terrible things. I was captured and tortured, since then I don’t like being touched,” I explain.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you. But not all touch is painful,” she says softly.
“How can you say that after what I just did to you?” I reply bitterly.
“You didn’t mean to. I trust you. I hope one day you can trust me enough to try. But if not, that’s okay too,” she says gently.
She’s so understanding, so brave, that something in my mind decides to be honest.
“I want to. I wanted to today. That’s why I kissed you. But I’d never forgive myself if I lost control and hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she says confidently.
I tentatively move closer to her, looking into her eyes and seeing permission there. I lean in and kiss her. She returns my kiss gently, allowing me to take the lead and do things slowly. We kiss for a long time, and I’m surprised to find myself pulling her body closer to me. I peel off her nightgown so that our bare skin touches and the sensation makes me feel alive again. I’m still afraid and nervous, but it’s the good kind. She’s careful to avoid touching me with her hands.
I lay her down on her back and she helps me ease off her panties. My hand drifts down between her legs and I’m surprised to feel the slickness, that she can still want me after what happened. She nods in agreement as I position my cock at the entrance of her slit. I push inside her warmth, moving slowly and surely.
“Put your hands on my chest,” I tell her.
“Are you sure?” she asks nervously, and I nod before I can change my mind.
She does as I ask and, for a moment, the usual fear kicks in but I force myself to ignore it. Her hands are small and soft, her touch light. It’s so far removed from the painful touch I fear. I glide in and out of her, savoring how our bodies fit together, and we fuck slowly. As I feel myself getting closer, I start to move faster, taking her hands and holding them above her head in one of mine. I don’t want to push my luck the first time and lose control, she feels too good, and I know my concentration will be off.
“You’re incredible,” I state, looking at her perfect body beneath me.
“Gunner, I’m close,” she moans as I fuck her.
I feel her cumming hard over my cock and it sends me over the edge too. I know in that moment I’m lost. Skye has me, heart and soul.
I roll over to lie next to her. A moment later she moves as if to leave.
“Don’t go. Stay with me tonight,” I ask.
She looks at me in surprise. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I won’t hurt you, I promise,” I say gesturing for her to lie in the crook of my arm.
She lies down next to me, and I pull her in close, so her head is resting on my chest. It feels as natural as breathing even though I haven’t done this in years. With Skye in my arms, I fall into a deep dreamless sleep for the first time since I went to war.