Three
Three
SAVVY
?
A knock sounds at the door. The pain dissipates with the massaging of my temples, and I focus on the here and now. My hands open and close as I steady my breathing. My body vibrates with the frustration of not being able to leave sight unseen. Honestly, if I wanted to leave unnoticed, I would have. Hot damn. “Damn it, Bellamy.” I grit out frustratingly. My chin goes to my chest as the reality of that thought hits me.
Letting out an exasperated sigh. My steps don’t falter as I make my way to the door and what, or rather, who awaits me. Without hesitation, I pull the bedroom door open, and my face remains impassive at who I see on the other side. The only sign that his presence affects me is my hand gripping the door handle. Being near him has been and may always be a struggle for me, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, it is why I need to leave.
With his eyes burning into my own, I shift my stance, leaning to the side as I cross my arms over my chest and rest my shoulder against the door jamb. My face remains impassively blank, even though it’s damn hard to maintain with the way he is looking at me. That look is exactly why I need to get out of here. The pull to him, the need for him, that being near him is causing the cold tendrils that have hardened my heart over these last two decades to thaw. That is not something I can allow to happen. I can’t let him in, not ever.
His eyes heat as he assesses me. I feel the heat of his stare as he scans me from head to toe. Then, finally, they trail past me and land on my bag on the bed. His nostrils flare, and his body coils as if he is preparing for a fight. My eyes scan him from head to toe as I watch the emotions flare in his stare. Despite that, I remain rooted in place, unwilling to explain, refusing to speak first. Refusing to let him see the indecision that is coursing through me.
No matter the situation, Gunner always invokes a primal response from me. Heat pulsates at my core, and I close my eyes, trying to rein in my need and want for him. This motherfucker needs to say what he needs to say and go. Gunner”s large frame vibrates the longer we both stand, staring at each other wordlessly. His large form is imposing and can be overwhelming, and I’m not a woman easily intimidated. There is something about him in this moment that has me, the fucking Widow Maker, wanting to apologize and explain. Good lawd. I shake my head, trying to expel where my thoughts are going because, not for the first time since being here, I want to forget the past, the pain and hurt, and just be held by him.
But I can’t.
Gunner is and will probably always be the most beautiful man I’ve ever encountered. After all these years, he’s aged well. Only a few smile lines and gray hairs are at his temple and beard. He’s tall, muscular, and built for sin. How his jeans encase his thick thighs and his tee stretches over his bulging chest makes my mouth water because I know what is underneath. I shake my head. This is not the time for that.
As much as I tried to stay away from him when I arrived to help with the situation with Princess, I couldn’t. The pull and need for him were too strong. And I made my excuses. Telling myself it was just sex, a release, getting what we needed from each other, and nothing more. And that is the story I’ve stuck with and will continue to stick with.
My eyes continue to scan his body. When I reach his face, I take in his chiseled stubbled jaw, full lips, and the way the vein at the side of his forehead pulsates. I don’t look directly into his moss-green eyes for fear of what I’ll see. Can feel the emotion radiating off him well enough. I don’t need it reflecting through those soulful, all-knowing eyes.
Taking in the lines that adorn his handsome face, tell me he’s lived a happy life filled with laughter. And that makes me smile, which quickly falters when I remember the life he shared with her caused those lines. That it was his life with her that had him looking the way he does. My body stiffens, which doesn’t go unnoticed, causing him to shift stance; my eyes shoot to his head as I watch him run his hand over his stubbled scalp.
When he releases a breath, my eyes connect with his. I know that whatever thoughts I’ve had while taking him in aren’t hidden behind the mask I’ve worn so well. The one that seems to be broken whenever I’m around him. He never takes his eyes off me as he steps closer into the room.
“You ain”t leaving me.” His voice is raspy and filled with emotion.
Gunner steps past me and into the room, making it clear that this will not be something I can or will slip away from. This conversation he so clearly wants will happen whether or not I like it. I release the breath I had been holding; I turn to see him staring down at the bed and the contents. His eyes bore into my open bag as he glares down at it like it had wronged him somehow. He lifts a pair of my panties, bunching them up and bringing them to his nose, inhaling my scent. I have to look away, knowing I can’t let his actions affect me. When he turns, I feel his eyes on me; I release a long breath, closing the door but not stepping further into the room. When I look up, I’m hit with the look of determination. His eyes bore into mine, daring me to argue, which I damn well will. Gunner bunches my panties up, shoving them in his pocket with a grunt, never taking his eyes off me, leaving me feeling a little unnerved.
I don’t respond to his words. What can I say? He can believe what he wants, but if I want to leave, if I want to run from whatever this is, I will.
His eyes narrow as I continue to stand and stare wordlessly at him. His annoyance at my lack of response is clear. And he isn’t having it. He stalks toward me, which makes me retreat for the first time in my life. Not from fear. Well, not for fear of him physically harming me, because he could never do that. But because I fear what his closeness will do to me. And how eager certain parts of me are to be close to him.
Realizing what Gunner”s goal had been when my back connected with the door. My breath hitches at the realization of having nowhere else to go, and that doesn’t stop him. He reaches up, boxing me in. I don’t flinch as I stare at him in shock with wide eyes. This motherfucker here. My eyes narrow further.
When he leans further into me, his hands on either side of my head, my chest heaves at his nearness, and as much as I try to fight it, I can’t. His eyes have a knowing glint as he leans in, resting his forehead on my shoulder, causing my body to stiffen. I fight to ignore my body”s response to him. Knowing this, he leans further into me, his nose brushing against my neck as he inhales me. I hold in the shudder that threatens to explode throughout my body.
Pulling away slightly, Gunner”s knowing eyes lift to mine and hold me hostage. I can’t look away. The truth in them makes it very clear that he is not willing to hear anything other than my agreement that I will stay.
“Gunner, I can’t stay. I know you know this. I have jobs to do. Can’t put my life on hold, hoping things work out. What’s done is done.” I say, as I try not to breathe in his intoxicating scent. Trying to remain detached, I continue. I’m not sure if what I say next is for my benefit or his. “I’m not that naive girl who thinks you walk on water and will blindly follow your lead. I tried that once, remember?” I say, finally able to look away from him. I feel him flinch at my words. He knows I”m not wrong. When I look back at him, the determined set of his jaw lets me know he isn’t willing to give up or let me use the excuse of our past to keep us from having the future he’s determined will be ours.
I try and fail to get away from him by pushing at his chest. His body is solid, and he leans further into me, pushing me further into the door. The realization that he isn’t making this easy for me slams into me. My head shakes back and forth. I can’t do this with him.
“No.”
His hand wraps under my chin. Shifting my chin so his eyes and mine are connected. I stare into his eyes with defiance, but he ignores it, looking for something else, looking deeper. His eyes bounce back and forth between my confused, overwhelmed, and defiant ones, not giving in until he finds what he is looking for.
“You. Are. Not. Leaving. Me.” He growls out.
His words are not angry, just final. And I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know what to say to that because right now, at this moment, I’m not the woman that I’ve been for the last twenty years. No matter how much I try to deny it, I am the girl who fell in love with Gunner Church and thought he hung the moon. That realization has me blinking back tears that are threatening to fall. I can’t do this, not now.
“No,” I say, pushing at his chest.
“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to say that…” I say.
I push at his chest harder, and he lets me, allowing me to scramble away from him. I move to the open space at the foot of the bed, putting even more distance between us. He turns from the door, making no move to come closer, and I sigh with relief.
“Yes, the fuck I do. You, Svetlana Petrov, are mine and always have been, always will be.” His voice raises slightly from the raw emotions.
He goes to take a step toward me, but I lift my hand to stop him; thankfully, he stops. His face softens and his eyes plead with me to listen. I can feel the indecision and my resolve crumbling. I square my shoulders and stare at him. With a head shake, he says something to the effect of a damnstubborn woman under his breath. He sighs but stays in place.
Gunner runs his hands over his head as he glares at the floor. His mouth opens and closes. There are a few frustrated growls that vibrate throughout the room. When he looks up at me, the look in his eyes… I lick my dry lips and try not to let it get to me, but the love, need, and anguish reflected in them are hard to deny. My body wants to go to him to make it better. My mind and heart are at war. With a shake of my head, my mind wins and keeps me rooted in place.
“Since you came back into my life. You have had every right to hold me at arm”s length. I get that. But I also know good and damn well you knew for a long damn time why I did what I did… I fucked up Savvy.”
My lips part to cut him off. I won’t allow him to minimize what he said and how our breakup went down back then. He didn’t have to say and do what he did. He didn’t have to crush me the way he did. That was all him, no one else.
“No, for the first time in years, fucking years. You’re here. Right here. You can’t run anymore. I won’t fucking let you. You aren’t going to make excuses to avoid this conversation. So you’ll damn well listen to what I have to say, Savvy.” His face morphs, and the storm brewing in his eyes has me taken aback. His eyes and words let me know he means every damn word.
My body jolts, and anger engulfs me.
No, the fuck he isn’t making demands of me. Not after everything I’ve gone through and done for him.
He takes a step toward me, and I step back. He stops. Hurt flashes in his eyes, which has my anger dissipating slightly. What does he expect from me? I can’t be near him. I can’t fucking think when I’m near him.
He lets out a hard sigh. “What they made me do…” He shakes his head. “What I did was fucked up. I could’ve handled that shit better. You deserved better from me. I said a lot of shit I shouldn’t have…” He says earnestly.
“I had no fucking choice, Savvy. Fucking none. And I can’t regret it because it gave me three pretty great fucking kids, even though that daughter of mine is a pain in the ass more often than not.” He chuckles. “I can’t regret them. I won’t regret them. But I made a choice, and I’ve had to live with it ever since.”
What he says registers. I can see he doesn’t mean how it’s perceived.
“Don’t,” giving him a small smile in understanding.
“What do you want me to say, Savvy?”
I say nothing. What can I say?
“Do you want me to say I was wrong…”
He pauses, taking in a harsh breath.
“Savvy… I was wrong. So damn wrong. I lost the love of my life because I wasn’t strong enough to fight for her. I wasn’t strong enough to fight for you. But I am now.” He says, determination lacing his words.
He is no longer willing to give me the space I need. He steps closer to me. I turn away from him because the look in his eyes has my determination faltering. My breath hitches, and I feel his heat pressing into my back. The air freezes in my lungs when he leans further into me, wrapping his arms around my stiff body and pulling me back closer to his front. A shiver courses through me when his lips come to my ear. When he speaks, my eyes involuntarily close.
“I’m going to fight for you, even if you don’t want me to.”
His breath tickles my neck, and I hold in my shudder. The sting behind my eyes frustrates me.
I know he didn’t have a choice. It was a while before I knew all of it, but I understood why he did it after I realized what was at stake. My fear, what stops me from accepting and believing him, is not knowing if giving in to him now will end in the same heartbreak. What happens if he has to make a similar choice? Will he? Will he choose his kids and his club over me and mine?
Those are the questions that keep me from giving in to him. I can’t lie and say that I would have made a different decision if the roles had been reversed. Like Gunner, my family is everything to me. So, if I were in his shoes, I’d probably have done the same, but I would have fought like hell, which is what he didn’t do. He didn’t fight.
He bends, resting his forehead on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I try to pull away. He doesn’t let me go. My body vibrates with the need to escape this, him. Desperately trying to convey that I want him to stop, need him to stop. He doesn’t. The air around us swirls with so many emotions. His closeness and my palms now resting on his arms wrapped around my waist, have my body reacting in a way I know will cloud my judgment.
Trying to keep the emotional distance between us is not something he will accept any longer, and continues to crowd my space even more. I don’t know if the panic I feel has him second-guessing his next move, but he stops, pushing away from me but not letting me go completely. He spins me around so we are facing one another. My hands go to his chest, and I try to stay focused on anything but the feeling of him. I exhale, thankful for him giving me this slight reprieve. My body sags slightly, and I stare at him. His eyes plead with me. My hand twitches, wanting to close around his cut and pull him closer, but I won’t. My body and mind”s reactions are not in one accord. It couldn’t be more apparent as I continued to fight with myself and him.
“Gunner, I can’t…” I stop myself from saying I can’t love him again. But that isn’t true, because I could.
“You can”t do what? My sweet Savvy. What can’t you do?” His eyes beg me to open up.
“You can’t let yourself love me, be with me, trust me? What can’t you do, my sweet Savvy? Tell me?” His feet remain rooted in place. His bulging chest flexes as he leans further into my space. His eyes say it all. He will not let me get away without answering him.
Gunner watches me a little longer, waiting for my answer. When I don’t respond immediately, he lets out a guttural growl. The one that always leaves me dazed and needy for him. I work damn hard to ignore my body”s response. Seeing the fight in me, he pushes forward even as I try, to no avail, to slink away. He isn’t having any of it. If he were any other man, if this were another situation, I know I could do some damage, but he isn’t, and this isn’t. So I relent.
My elbows bend as he steps closer to me, and his arms wrap around my back. He says nothing as he leans forward, his forehead resting on my own as he takes a deep breath, breathing me in. His head shakes back and forth a few times while I stand stiffly, breathing shallow breaths, trying desperately not to allow his scent to affect me. My hands release his shirt, falling limp over his. Relenting, knowing I won’t be getting out of this until he says whatever he needs to say. I can’t speak. I know that the words that would come out would be to beg him to take me, love me, need me, and only ever want me. But the fear, the fear, keeps my mouth tightly sealed.
I wouldn’t usually give up and give in when backed into a corner, but I’m so damn tired of fighting him. I’m so damn tired of being afraid of being hurt again.
This…
Being all over the place, this indecisiveness in my mind, heart, and body, this constantly being at war with myself, is exhausting, which is why I need to leave.
He sighs, and without lifting his head, his eyes on mine as he speaks. “You can, and you will stay with me and work this shit out. You don’t have a choice in this…” His breaths fan across my face as he speaks, and I feel it down to my core. My legs nearly crumble at the sensation, and I try to lock my knees without him noticing, but he does. I stiffen.
“You”re scared. Fuck, so am I. I know, I have a lot to make up for.” One of his hands leaves me and rests over my heart. “But I also know what”s in here, and so do you,” He says knowingly.
Without breaking contact, I feel his other hand grab hold of mine as he shifts and pulls it up to rest it over his heart. As confusing and tormented as I feel, I understand what he means. Pulling his face away from mine, he looks deeply into my eyes. My heart rate quickens.
“This beating mass of flesh hasn’t stopped beating for you. Never, not for one fucking day, have I stopped loving you. I’ve never not thought about you and our kids. I couldn’t…” He sighs. “I would rather live in a world with you than without. So fuck, yes, I stayed away. But I never forgot who this belonged to.” He squeezes my hand, which he continues to hold over his heart. “I never forgot who this belongs to.” He repeats as he leans in, resting his forehead against mine. “Don’t run away from me. Let me show you what this should have been, what we should have been. We deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve happiness and peace. You deserve to be loved, and I want to be the one to love you. I love you, Savvy. I will always fucking love you.”
He pulls away from me slightly, his eyes close as did mine. I feel his breath on my face. Something in me awakens, and I don’t know what to say or do. This is what he does to me, what he turns me into.
Do I continue to fight this?
Can I fight what this is?
Should I fight this?
I can hear him take a few breaths, and he pushes away slightly, towering over me. I feel his eyes on me, and I’m unsure what he wants. Opening my eyes and looking at him, I convey my feelings. I’m confused. I’m scared. I don’t know if I can give him what he wants. What if something else pops up, and he pushes me aside again? What if he finds out everything about me and can’t handle it? We’ll end up right back where we were. Him breaking me again, and me trying to put the pieces back together.
Usually, I would have a man on their knees before they could ever get me in this position, but with Gunner, I don’t want to. I couldn’t if I tried, that much I know to be true.
You will not hurt him. He will not hurt you. The past is the past, and you have to stop living in it. Let him in.
Something shifts in Gunner. When both of his hands come to my face, it shocks me, and my brow furrows. He holds me in place, staring into my eyes, looking for something. What? I don’t know. But whatever it is, Gunner pulls away from me before I can say anything else. The abruptness is shocking, and without a word, he turns and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Damn.
What the actual hell?
Fuck