Chapter 5
ZINNIA
Two Months Later . . .
“I like the fact you still draw.”
I nearly jump out of my skin hearing his voice. I whip around, dropping my sketch book and pencil on the picnic table I’m sitting on top of.
“What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?” I demand, reaching up to grasp at my chest. In the time since being discharged from the hospital, I’ve barely seen him.
Gunner’s kept his distance from me for the most part, and I knew it would happen.
He has his own life, one I’m not a part of.
I’m only here, because he thinks he’s able to protect me—nothing more.
I take in his appearance and inwardly sigh at how good he looks. They say time can wear a body down. Well, it hasn’t done anything but enhance his.
Since being here and him giving me space, I learned quite a bit from the ol’ ladies who have since been around.
There’s Avery, Hammer’s ol’ lady and the woman related to the siblings that intend to toy with the club to cause problems. Next is Willow.
She’s Malice’s ol’ lady and sweet as can be.
I’m surprised that she had triplets. Then there’s CJ, talk about a spitfire.
She doesn’t back down from anyone. Axe got lucky with her, and I can definitely understand why after seeing them together, they’re a perfect combination.
And last is Rebel. I knew her from before.
She was with Rogue, and I’m happy to see the two of them are together.
Between the four of them, they’ve given me the lowdown on Gunner.
Or at least what they know. Meaning now I know he has a daughter, Delilah.
He’s brought her around, but not much. I’m sure it’s to keep her safely away from me.
The fact he has a little girl . . . a beautiful girl at that .
. . hurts in more ways than I like to imagine.
But at the same time—life goes on, and he had to do so as well.
Being in my shoes, I didn’t get the chance to do that, yet in a way, I did.
I’ve already come to terms I’ll never have what Gunner and I used to have.
No matter the fact, my heart and soul remain his.
They’ve always belonged to him, and that’ll never change.
What no one has told me is who Delilah’s mom is or where she is.
Gunner smirks and moves closer to me, and nods to the sketchpad. “What are you drawing?” he asks cocking his head slightly.
I scramble to pick it up and hide my artwork. It’s something I haven’t done in years. I wasn’t allowed to do anything remotely relaxing. I was to always be ready for Basa, no matter what time of day it was.
When the ol’ ladies bought me bags upon bags of clothes, shoes .
. . pretty much everything a girl could want .
. . they bought me a sketchpad and pencils as well.
They made sure I had the things I needed.
The clothes they picked out were great. Leggings, tank tops, T-shirts, even a of couple hoodies—both pull over and zip up.
But I haven’t worn either. I’ve stuck to the one Gunner gave me when leaving the hospital months ago.
It reminds me I should probably give it back along with finding a way to repay them all for their generosity.
“Nothing,” I finally answer Gunner and close the book up so he can’t see what I’d done. I don’t know how he’d react. “What are you doing out here anyway? Don’t you have something else better to do?”
Gunner moves in closer and hops up onto the table next to me, and braces his elbows on his knees, his head cocking in my direction enough for him to meet my gaze. “You don’t want me out here with you?”
“Doesn’t matter if I do or not.” I shrug and look away from him.
“Dimples, it does matter. It matters, because you mean something to me.”
My heart lurches at him saying I mean something to him. I don’t even want to think about the fact he’d called me Dimples.
“Look at me, Zinnia,” he demands, stern yet so gentle it causes butterflies in my stomach.
Something about his tone has me doing as he commands, and I swallow back the nerves that threaten to clog my throat more than they already are.
“What?” I whisper.
“I’ve been trying to give you time . . . give you the space you need,” he states, stretching his hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I guess I was also giving myself the same. For nine years, I thought I lost you.”
“You did?” I respond with barely a breath.
“Yeah, I did,” he scuffs and shakes his head. “But I have you back. We both have a lot of shit between us, but one thing I won’t allow between us is any more space.”
“Why?” I didn’t mean to let the question slip past my lips.
“Because I’ve never let you go. Not really,” he murmurs and turns back to look straight. “I know you know about Delilah.”
“I just know she’s your daughter,” I confirm.
“Yeah, she’s my little girl, and the fucked-up part about it is, I’ve only known she was mine for a brief amount of time,” he confides without taking his gaze off the tree line.
“Her mom, Quinn, was a great woman. Beautiful and sweet as anyone. She was funny. She worked as a stripper for a while, along with working at the café Avery owns. For a while, she was able to quit stripping and work behind the bar at another place that belongs to the club.”
“You love her,” I state the obvious from the way he speaks about her.
Gunner brings his gaze back to mine. “I cared for her. If I could have loved her, I might have. If I couldn’t have who I wanted, I would have made her mine. But I didn’t. Not long after, she confided the truth about Delilah, then Quinn was killed in a fire.”
My eyes widen at his words. “Gunner.”
“Don’t.” Gunner shakes his head and looks back to the trees.
“Don’t say you’re sorry. Not when you knew nothing about it.
You lived in hell for years. You don’t need more.
I didn’t love Quinn and Delilah knows it.
For her age, she’s a smart little girl and knows her mom and I were friends.
That I cared for her mom.” He takes a breath and lowers his head while clasping his hands together.
“I looked for you. Fuck, I looked, and in the end, I guess I gave up hope that I would find you. You and Davy were both missing. Then the house went up for sale . . .”
“Davy sold me,” I blurt out, interrupting him.
Gunner whips his head around, and I don’t miss the flash of rage swirling in the midst. “Come again.”
Sighing heavily, I decide there’s no reason to hide the past. Not when it affects the present and what’s to come.
“Davy was bad off in debt with a cartel. Ironically, it wasn’t the De La Rosa’s he owed money to, but the Cintron Cartel.
I don’t know how all this works, but he sold me to the De La Rosas to pay his debt off.
And in doing so, he paid with his life. Right in front of me, Basa ordered his men to kill him. ”
“Are you telling me that to pay his debts to one cartel he sold you to another?” Gunner sneers and clenches his jaw.
“Yes.” I nod, confirming for him.
“Motherfucker. He’s lucky he’s dead. Otherwise, I’d beat him to death for what he did,” Gunner snarls and hops off the table. He spins to face me, reaches out snatching my wrist, and yanks me up into his arms.
I let out a small cry and drop my sketchpad as I go flying through the air and into his arms. “Gunner.”
Gunner drops my wrists and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Never again, Zinnia. You were taken from me, and we lost time with each other. Now the time for space ceases to exist.”
I don’t get the chance to say anything to him. I don’t think I could form the words regardless. My mind is too consumed with him and his declaration as he lowers his head, claiming my mouth with his.