12. Gennie
CHAPTER TWELVE
gennie
The soft Sunday morning sunlight trickles through the curtains of Gavin’s master suite, painting everything in shades of yellows and oranges.
I’m caught between getting up and starting my day or continue stretching lazily across the king-size bed.
Every muscle in my body feels blissfully sore, thoroughly loved, and completely relaxed.
This weekend has been utter bliss, only the two of us, entirely isolated from the rest of the world.
We’ve talked, made love in almost every room of his home, and ate incredible meals that Gavin cooked for me.
He made comment after comment about my body, tracing my hips with his warm hands, telling me over and over how much he loves my curves, and he intended to make sure I kept every single one of them.
For the first time in my life, I felt completely cherished.
I smile to myself, pulling Gavin’s pillow to my chest and inhaling his scent.
He rolled out of bed, smacked my ass, and told me to join him in the shower he’s currently having when I feel up to it.
I’m still trying to figure it out if I want to make him wait or shower with him.
Both options will lead to the same scenario, with his thick cock buried inside me.
I’m knocked out of my thoughts when the chiming of the front doorbell echoes through the house.
I blink, looking toward the bathroom door, and realize thoughts of joining Gavin will have to wait.
I throw the covers off, snag Gavin’s gray shirt, slip it over my head, and jog down the staircase.
I don’t think twice as I reach the massive double front doors.
Same goes for the peep hole. Nor did I check the digital security camera panel mounted on the wall beside the entryway.
I unlock the door and pull it open, because that’s what normal people do when someone rings the bell.
The smile on my face freezes instantly, and my insides turn to ice. Standing on the front stoop is a ghost from my past. One I never thought I’d see again.
Bryce.
My heart slams in my chest with a sickening, violent jerk.
My hands start to shake as a cold wave of familiar horror washes over me.
My ex-boyfriend, the man who spent far too long breaking me down, beating my self-esteem into a pulp and making me feel like a meek, worthless mistake.
He stares at me, his face widening in disbelief before a cruel, sharp sneer spreads across his face.
“Do… do you have the right residence?” I choke out, my voice betraying the bravado I clearly don’t have, and I’m praying with everything in me that this is a nightmare.
“No, Gennie. This is my dad’s house.” Bryce rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms over his chest as mocking laughter bubbles out of him.
His dad? Gavin is Bryce’s father? The horror hits me so hard my vision blurs around the edges. My brain processes the revelation a smidge too late. Bryce steps closer, causing me to take a step back, allowing him entrance into the house as his eyes scan me from head to toe with pure disgust.
“Look at you,” he sneers, his voice dripping with venom.
“Dressed in his shirt like you actually belong here. Christ, Gennie, you’ve gotten even fatter than when I left you.
You really think a man like my dad is going to keep you around?
You’re not his type at all. Shit, you weren’t my type, either, but you were easy and paid for everything.
” Every word feels like a physical blow, slicing through the bubble of peace Gavin built around me all weekend.
The humiliation is overwhelming, burning hot against my throat.
“Bryce!” Gavin’s voice thunders down the hallway behind me, dark, booming, and laced with fury. He’s standing near the base of the stairs in a pair of sweatpants, hair damp and eyes filled with pure murder at Bryce’s vitriol.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t look at Gavin.
The shame, the sudden avalanche of the past trauma, the realization of who Bryce is to him… It completely breaks me. I don’t wait for Gavin to reach for the door.
I don’t say a single word.
I’m in fight or flight mode, and considering my voice isn’t working, I turn on my heel and dart past Gavin, grabbing my phone and purse off the entry table. I don’t care that I’m only wearing Gavin’s oversized shirt.
I don’t care that I have no shoes on my feet.
I just need to get out of here.
I fly past the two men and their verbal sparring and take off down the long, winding driveway as fast as my bare feet can carry me.
“Genevieve! Stop! Wait!” Gavin’s panicked roar booms behind me, but I keep running, tears blinding my vision as my bare soles slap against the asphalt.
My instinct takes over and I don’t stop until I’ve reached the main road outside of the gated community.
I look around, turning my head this way and that, when my brain finally takes over and reminds me that my phone is in my hand, and I remember that Dante’s house is only a few miles down the road.
I dial Alex’s number, my best friend and Dante’s wife.
“Hey, Gennie, is everything okay?” She picks up on the second ring.
“Alex, please. God, Alex,” I sob, my voice breaking completely as I walk furiously down the sidewalk, the gravel digging into my bare feet. “I need you. Please.”
“I’m coming. Tell me everything. Where are you?” Her tone shifts from casual to protective in two seconds flat.
“I’m running down the main road near Gavin’s neighborhood,” I gasp, clutching the phone to my ear as tears stream down my face.
“I don’t have shoes. I don’t have pants.
I just need to get away, Alex. Bryce was there.
Gavin is his dad, Alex. Bryce… he was saying horrible things, and I couldn’t…
I couldn’t stay.” I’m repeating words, trying to string two sentences together and probably sounding like I’m having a medical emergency.
“Holy shit. Gennie, stay on the phone with me,” Alex orders, her voice tinged with fierce anger. “Do not hang up. I’m grabbing my keys right now. Where are you on the road?”
“Past the main gates, walking toward the highway intersection,” I choke out, wrapping Gavin’s shirt tightly around myself to ward off the morning chill.
“I’m in the car, backing out of the driveway.
” I hear her phone drop, probably to the cupholder or her lap.
The engine to Dante’s sports car roars through the line.
“Keep talking to me, Gennie.” We talk about mundane shit, anything to keep my mind off thinking that the one man I truly let myself be real around helped create the vilest, cruelest person I have ever met.
“I’m so tired, Alex. Why does life have to be this way?” I ask her, noticing a bench beneath some trees. I don’t dare sit down in case I flash someone, or the shirt rides up and my bare ass meets cold metal and whatever else there could be on it.
“Don’t lose hope yet. I’m not going up to bat for Gavin, because believe me, I have no room to after I put Dante through the wringer. I can only tell you that maybe you should talk to him first before assuming the worst.” She gives solid advice, but I’m not sure I’m ready to hear or take it.
“I see you.” The tires come to a screeching halt, and I run toward her. It isn’t until I’m safely in the car that I finally let my eyes close, which is the wrong thing to do because the only person I see is Gavin.