Love and war, p.58
Love and War, page 58
“What’s wrong?” he questions as he closes the door.
My eyes greedily devour his hairy chest. I never knew he had a tattoo. He’s not trim or fit, but I don’t care. I like his body. My gaze falls to his boxers. I’ve watched enough porn late at night on my computer to know he doesn’t have a boner. But his penis seems big anyway because he bulges from his boxers. I wonder what happens when he gets hard.
“I think I pulled a muscle,” I tell him with a whine, loving the way his concerned eyes wash over me.
“Your bicep from throwing? Do I need to rub some cream on it?”
“Actually,” I tell him, biting my bottom lip. “It’s on my thigh.” I hoist my leg on the countertop and then lift my gown to show him. My eyes remain on his as I brush my fingers along my inner thigh. When the tip of my finger grazes my panties, I jolt with excitement. His worried expression darkens.
“Hannah, perhaps you should go to bed. We can see if it’s better in the morning.”
I massage the area in question and summon tears. “B-but it hurts now.” My chin quivers and a tear snakes out.
He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration but his eyes remain glued to my thigh as if he’s attempting to figure out what to do about it. A shiver of delight ripples through me when he takes a step forward.
“Let’s see,” he murmurs and kneels before me so he’s eye level with the area in question.
A gasp escapes me when his strong fingers touch the flesh there. If only he’d move them a little in the opposite direction. Would he make me cry out like those women in the porn movies?
“Right there,” I tell him.
His fingers deftly work the muscle and his brows remain furrowed in concentration. I sneak a peek and can’t help but be excited to see his erection tenting his boxer shorts. He’s turned on by rubbing my thigh. I’m turned on too.
“Does that feel any better?” His voice is tight and strained.
I grab hold of his shoulders to steady myself. “A little.”
He lets out a sigh of relief when I drop my foot back to the floor. When he goes to stand, I grip his shoulders. Our eyes meet for a brief moment. With my toes, I touch his hardness through his boxers. A hiss rushes from him, and his eyes snap shut. He lets me rub on him with my foot for a few long seconds before he stands abruptly.
“No, Hannah.” His green eyes blaze with fury. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
With his entire height above me, I cower away from him. On the softball field, he can be quite intimidating. But like this? He’s terrifying.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
His eyes skim over my body before he clenches his teeth and points a long finger at me. “This never happened.”
My lip wobbles and I nod.
“You speak one word of this to anyone and you’ll be off the team so fast you won’t even know what happened. People won’t believe you, Hannah.”
Our moment was there, we both felt it. He was hard beneath my touch. His groans and breathing told me he enjoyed it. I want it again.
“Phil,” I murmur and selfishly reach out to touch him. “I want you.”
He huffs and takes a step toward me, snatching my wrist. Then, he leans forward, so close I think he might kiss me, but utters his hateful words. “You’re a child. I don’t want you. Now go to bed and remember my warning.”
The bathroom door creaks open and my eyes meet the surprised ones of Stephanie. Her nose isn’t in the air. No, her nostrils flare with anger. Tears well in my eyes as I fear a lashing from her too. But she shocks me when she pushes inside and digs her claws into Phil’s bicep.
“What are you doing?” she demands. “Why are you half naked in here with a little girl?”
I’m not a little girl.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies with a grumble. “She had a bad dream and I was comforting her.”
Stephanie shoots him a scathing glare. “Out. I’ll comfort her.”
His shoulders hunch as he goes to leave, but not before sending me another look of warning. Once he’s gone, she wraps me up in a hug. I need a hug after the rejection I just suffered.
“Did he…oh my God…” She trails off. “Did your coach, um, touch you?”
He touched my thigh. I touched his penis.
“No.”
“Oh sweetie, thank goodness. It looked much worse, I suppose, from my end,” she says, her voice coming out in a relieved rush.
“I still feel terrible,” I admit. “My, uh, dream was a nightmare. In my dream, someone hurt me.” But my dream was reality. Phil hurt me in reality.
“Listen, honey,” she whispers and hugs me again. “You’re awake now. And if you ever need anything, you come to me. Not Phil. The way he was in here with you in nothing but his underwear and touching you, that was inappropriate. I hate to think of what it could have escalated to had I not come inside.”
I could tell her the truth. Bask in her comfort. Revel in the way she soothes my heart that still stings. But I don’t.
Because I’m selfish.
If I tell what happened, not only will Phil try and kick me off the team, but he may also get in serious trouble. Then, they’ll take him to jail or make him stop coaching. I wouldn’t be able to see him again. I wouldn’t know if we could have ever had another chance like tonight in the bathroom.
Because I’m selfish, I lie.
“Coach is a good man,” I tell her firmly. “He would never take advantage of a little girl.” The words taste like venom on my tongue, but I say them anyway. “Plus he’s an old man. Ew.”
She laughs, and I let out a crazed giggle of my own.
“I like you, Hannah.”
“I like you too, Stephanie.”
* * *
My thoughts vanish into the air the moment I hear a slam from inside the house. Gabe’s form paces around the kitchen as he searches for something. Gabe would have liked Stephanie I think. She was a bad girl too. I still remember the scandal of her ending up pregnant by Phil’s younger brother. It put our coach in such a pissy mood for an entire season. Wasn’t until he held his “nephew” for the first time that he began to thaw. He never made eye contact with me again, though. And the only time he remotely smiled at me was when Mrs. Collins came onto the field and slapped me.
It was a smug grin.
A smile that said, I fucking knew you were trouble.
If only he knew how much trouble I was now…
I climb out of the pool and dry off. Once I make it inside the chilly house, I find Gabe leaned against the counter with a bottle of Jack in his grip.
“You should go to bed,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.
I shiver at his words. “I’m not tired.”
He tilts his head back and parts open his lips to swallow back a swig of the amber liquid. His Adam’s apple bobs with the motion. My mouth waters to lick him there. Once he swallows, he turns his hard gaze on me, snuffing out the heat that was kindling inside me. “Fine. But I’m not in the mood to babysit. Go find something to do. Without me.” His words flay me. Cut me right open and make me bleed.
“You’re an asshole.”
He smirks. It reminds me of the smirk Phil gave me that day. “And?”
With a huff, I storm over to him and steal his bottle. I take a swallow of the nasty stuff. His eyes flicker with irritation when I take another swig. He yanks the bottle from my hands so he can drink.
And so begins the next half hour of our evening.
Angry glares.
One bottle of Jack, quickly emptying.
Two hurt people.
A fire that seems to be building again with every second that passes.
“You look so much like your mother, it’s fucking disturbing,” he blurts out, his eyes narrowing and falling to my breasts still hidden in my towel. “Your tits are nicer, though. You…not so much.”
I flip him off. “I bet you wish she was here, so you could make love to her. Is that why she’s so special? You made love to her and told her she was perfect and shit?”
His laugh is more like a loud bark. “She was special because I fucked her just like I fuck you. Hard and without apology. Your mother, unlike you, denied how much she loved it, though. Unfortunately for Baylee, her weepy cunt couldn’t lie.”
Snarling my lip at him, I shake my head in disgust. “You’re a pig.”
“And you’re a psycho.”
When I haul off and kick him, he pounces on me, tearing my towel from my body in one fluid movement before backing me up against the counter.
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I bet your pussy’s dripping for me right now, even as I talk to you like you’re a piece of shit.”
“Maybe my pussy is wet because I’m thinking about stabbing you and burying you with your whore girlfriend, Maria,” I seethe.
He chuckles and his eyes light up with amusement. “You’re feisty as fuck.”
His palm cups my breast. When he dips down to suck my nipple into his mouth, I let my head fall back, enjoying the sensation of his tongue on the sensitive flesh. I latch my fingers into his hair while his kisses my breasts.
“What did you do to my mother that made her hate you so much?” The question always lingers in my mind.
Hot breath tickles my flesh. “It was either the time I fucked her ass with a cucumber shoved up her tight cunt or the time I shot your precious daddy in the chest. I’m really not sure.”
His words should disturb me. But you can’t disturb the disturbed. A giggle starts in my throat and soon I’m full-bellied laughing with tears rolling down my cheeks. He pulls away with an arched eyebrow and a half-smile on his lips.
“Do I entertain you?” he muses.
I nod and guide his hand between my legs. “You’re crazy like me.”
“You just now figured this out?”
He slightly sways and I giggle again.
“It explains why she’s ‘allergic’ to cucumbers,” I tell him, a wicked grin on my face.
“I could make you develop that ‘allergy’ too,” he threatens, but it falls flat since he’s smiling.
Running my fingertip over his lips, I murmur my naughty words. “You could try.”
* * *
I officially know what it would feel like to have two men at once. Gabe wasn’t gentle or kind or loving as he fucked my ass with a frozen vegetable up my twat. He didn’t assure me everything would be okay. He didn’t make any sort of empty promise.
He just fucked me until I came so hard I collapsed.
The entire time, I imagined it was Phil’s frozen prick inside of me while Gabe drove into my ass. It made for a fantasy that would only ever happen in my dreams. And, oh what beautiful dreams they were.
After we finished and cleaned up, he wouldn’t stop laughing at me. I was annoyed, but I couldn’t help but be tickled by his boyish amusement.
He said I was too good to be true.
Nothing but his own fantasy come to life.
It was then, in our perfect post sexual haze, that I gave him what he wanted.
“I want you to be happy. When the summer is over, let’s go get your girl and bring her home to us.”
Once I uttered those words, Gabe flipped me over and made love to me so sweet, it made me cry. With our fingers intertwined while he thrust into me and our eyes connected, he whispered promises I hope he can keep.
About forever.
About family.
Love.
Us.
“This isn’t over, baby,” he assured me. “It’s only just begun.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gabe
Three and a half weeks later…
We’re out.
Been out for five days.
I’m going to kill her.
Stroking her blonde hair while she lies with her head in my lap, I contemplate my next move. There’s always online Mexican drug companies. Or, I could get her a fake ID so we could see a doctor. But the testing could take more time than we can afford. I don’t need them to waste precious fucking time trying to diagnose my girl. I already know what she needs. She needs the goddamned Clozapine and Celexa or I’m going to choke her to death.
When she’s high and happy and in love, the girl fucks like a goddess and we can’t get enough of each other. But when she hits her lows, I worry she’ll cut my throat in my sleep. She’s unpredictable. She’s unstable. She’s motherfucking insane.
I’m going to have to do something that could really be dangerous to us both.
I’m going to have to go to War.
Sure, the fucker probably wants to put a bullet through my skull—even though I doubt the pansy could stomach it. Hannah’s worth whatever shit I have to go through because I need her well and whole again. I was an idiot to ever think she could exist free of medication. I’d had no idea the depth of her mental illness.
“I love this movie,” she says softly, her finger drawing hearts on my kneecap. “It’s so romantic.”
I chuckle and raise an eyebrow. “Dracula is romantic? Or is Luke Evans just sexy? You’re kind of hot for villains.”
“Villains need love too,” she retorts.
That they do.
And in our story, we’re both the motherfucking villains.
“Sweet girl?”
“Mmm?”
“I want to take you on a trip. We can go swim at that secluded beach. This time I’ll let you fuck me,” I say with a smile.
She sits up and flashes me a worried look. Her brows are furled together as she bites on her bottom lip for a hair before speaking. “Why? That’s awfully close to home. What if someone recognizes us?”
I run my thumb along her bottom lip. “We’ll be fine. San Diego’s a big city. Plus, I need to get something for you while we’re there.”
Her pupils dilate for a moment, anger flickering in her eyes. “What?”
“Your fucking meds.”
She scrunches her nose and snarls her lip. “I don’t need them. I’m fine, see?” Her slender fingers motion at her face. And today, she is fine. So fucking fine. I wish I had her like this all of the time. It’s when she’s not fine that’s the problem. Her ups and downs are too high and too low. We need to coast in the motherfucking middle.
“I love you,” I assure her. “You know this. And that is why I am doing this for you. Trust me, baby.”
She straddles my hips and wraps her arms over my shoulders. Her lips are pouting, but her eyes tell me she’ll concede. “How do you plan on getting my medication?”
I close my eyes and let out a sigh. “I’m going to have to contact your dad.”
“No.”
Popping my eyes open, I glare at her. “What do you mean no?”
“You’re not going to hurt him.”
I cup her cheek and drag my thumb along her full bottom lip. “I swear to you, beautiful, I’m not going to fucking hurt him. He might try and hurt me, but I’m not going to touch a hair on his goddamned head. He can refill your prescription, though, and get it to me until I can secure your new identification and doctor. We have to do this.”
She frowns. “Dad might involve the police. What happens if he sets you up? They’ll tear us apart. I can’t live without you. I’m happy for the first time ever.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You don’t know my dad. He’s smart and can hack into any computer network out there. If we weren’t out in the middle of nowhere, I have no doubt he would’ve found me already.”
Once upon a time, he evaded me and holed away my Baylee. But I found them. I always do. And they never found me again. I’ve got this.
“We’ll make it work. I promise you.”
* * *
“Hello?” the deep voice answers.
I lean against the shitty pay phone with my eyes on Hannah. She’d wanted a cherry Icee at the convenience store. Instead of blending in, she’s drawing motherfucking attention from every male who walks past her. Her blonde hair blows in the wind while she sucks on the red straw as if it’s the most delicious fucking thing she’s ever wrapped her lips around. The short dress she’s wearing keeps flapping up, and I swear to God, if some asshole approaches my girl, I’ll beat the shit out of him in the parking lot.
“War?”
A growl in response. “Gabe?”
“We need to talk,” I tell him bluntly. “About Hannah.”
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses into the phone. “She better be all right.”
I can hear tapping on his computer. The motherfucker is probably trying to triangulate my location or some shit. “Stop trying to find us,” I tell him. “We’re coming to you.”
“You’re bringing her home?” The surprise is evident in his voice.
“Fuck that. She doesn’t want to come home. But we do need something that belongs to her.”
He remains silent.
“I need you to refill her prescriptions. Today.”
“She’s been off them for a few days now,” he clips out. “Is she okay? Has she tried to hurt herself?”
I think about Maria’s bloody bloated corpse. And that was when she actually was on meds. I don’t even want to think about Hannah at her worst.
“She hasn’t tried to hurt herself. She’s safe and happy. But I’m afraid I can’t keep her that way all of the time without them.”
He lets out a breath of frustration. “What am I supposed to do? Just hand over my daughter’s meds and pray you don’t shoot me in the chest again?”
I smirk. “Don’t be a pussy. That was nearly two decades ago. You lived. And yes, that’s exactly what I want.”
“We want to see her. To talk to her.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why the hell not?” he demands.
“Because I’m not fucking stupid. You’ll try and convince her to come home.”
The line goes silent again. “She can’t come home.”
At this I laugh. “Wow, man, she really was too much for you to handle like she said. Poor girl. I can fucking handle her.”
He growls again. “I can handle her just fine. I love my daughter. Problem is,” he says lowly. “She’s wanted in connection of the murder of Alejandra Cruz-Diaz. Alejandra’s husband is wanted as well. Her fingerprints were all over the house and the murder weapon. This is really bad for her.”
My eyes greedily devour his hairy chest. I never knew he had a tattoo. He’s not trim or fit, but I don’t care. I like his body. My gaze falls to his boxers. I’ve watched enough porn late at night on my computer to know he doesn’t have a boner. But his penis seems big anyway because he bulges from his boxers. I wonder what happens when he gets hard.
“I think I pulled a muscle,” I tell him with a whine, loving the way his concerned eyes wash over me.
“Your bicep from throwing? Do I need to rub some cream on it?”
“Actually,” I tell him, biting my bottom lip. “It’s on my thigh.” I hoist my leg on the countertop and then lift my gown to show him. My eyes remain on his as I brush my fingers along my inner thigh. When the tip of my finger grazes my panties, I jolt with excitement. His worried expression darkens.
“Hannah, perhaps you should go to bed. We can see if it’s better in the morning.”
I massage the area in question and summon tears. “B-but it hurts now.” My chin quivers and a tear snakes out.
He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration but his eyes remain glued to my thigh as if he’s attempting to figure out what to do about it. A shiver of delight ripples through me when he takes a step forward.
“Let’s see,” he murmurs and kneels before me so he’s eye level with the area in question.
A gasp escapes me when his strong fingers touch the flesh there. If only he’d move them a little in the opposite direction. Would he make me cry out like those women in the porn movies?
“Right there,” I tell him.
His fingers deftly work the muscle and his brows remain furrowed in concentration. I sneak a peek and can’t help but be excited to see his erection tenting his boxer shorts. He’s turned on by rubbing my thigh. I’m turned on too.
“Does that feel any better?” His voice is tight and strained.
I grab hold of his shoulders to steady myself. “A little.”
He lets out a sigh of relief when I drop my foot back to the floor. When he goes to stand, I grip his shoulders. Our eyes meet for a brief moment. With my toes, I touch his hardness through his boxers. A hiss rushes from him, and his eyes snap shut. He lets me rub on him with my foot for a few long seconds before he stands abruptly.
“No, Hannah.” His green eyes blaze with fury. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
With his entire height above me, I cower away from him. On the softball field, he can be quite intimidating. But like this? He’s terrifying.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
His eyes skim over my body before he clenches his teeth and points a long finger at me. “This never happened.”
My lip wobbles and I nod.
“You speak one word of this to anyone and you’ll be off the team so fast you won’t even know what happened. People won’t believe you, Hannah.”
Our moment was there, we both felt it. He was hard beneath my touch. His groans and breathing told me he enjoyed it. I want it again.
“Phil,” I murmur and selfishly reach out to touch him. “I want you.”
He huffs and takes a step toward me, snatching my wrist. Then, he leans forward, so close I think he might kiss me, but utters his hateful words. “You’re a child. I don’t want you. Now go to bed and remember my warning.”
The bathroom door creaks open and my eyes meet the surprised ones of Stephanie. Her nose isn’t in the air. No, her nostrils flare with anger. Tears well in my eyes as I fear a lashing from her too. But she shocks me when she pushes inside and digs her claws into Phil’s bicep.
“What are you doing?” she demands. “Why are you half naked in here with a little girl?”
I’m not a little girl.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies with a grumble. “She had a bad dream and I was comforting her.”
Stephanie shoots him a scathing glare. “Out. I’ll comfort her.”
His shoulders hunch as he goes to leave, but not before sending me another look of warning. Once he’s gone, she wraps me up in a hug. I need a hug after the rejection I just suffered.
“Did he…oh my God…” She trails off. “Did your coach, um, touch you?”
He touched my thigh. I touched his penis.
“No.”
“Oh sweetie, thank goodness. It looked much worse, I suppose, from my end,” she says, her voice coming out in a relieved rush.
“I still feel terrible,” I admit. “My, uh, dream was a nightmare. In my dream, someone hurt me.” But my dream was reality. Phil hurt me in reality.
“Listen, honey,” she whispers and hugs me again. “You’re awake now. And if you ever need anything, you come to me. Not Phil. The way he was in here with you in nothing but his underwear and touching you, that was inappropriate. I hate to think of what it could have escalated to had I not come inside.”
I could tell her the truth. Bask in her comfort. Revel in the way she soothes my heart that still stings. But I don’t.
Because I’m selfish.
If I tell what happened, not only will Phil try and kick me off the team, but he may also get in serious trouble. Then, they’ll take him to jail or make him stop coaching. I wouldn’t be able to see him again. I wouldn’t know if we could have ever had another chance like tonight in the bathroom.
Because I’m selfish, I lie.
“Coach is a good man,” I tell her firmly. “He would never take advantage of a little girl.” The words taste like venom on my tongue, but I say them anyway. “Plus he’s an old man. Ew.”
She laughs, and I let out a crazed giggle of my own.
“I like you, Hannah.”
“I like you too, Stephanie.”
* * *
My thoughts vanish into the air the moment I hear a slam from inside the house. Gabe’s form paces around the kitchen as he searches for something. Gabe would have liked Stephanie I think. She was a bad girl too. I still remember the scandal of her ending up pregnant by Phil’s younger brother. It put our coach in such a pissy mood for an entire season. Wasn’t until he held his “nephew” for the first time that he began to thaw. He never made eye contact with me again, though. And the only time he remotely smiled at me was when Mrs. Collins came onto the field and slapped me.
It was a smug grin.
A smile that said, I fucking knew you were trouble.
If only he knew how much trouble I was now…
I climb out of the pool and dry off. Once I make it inside the chilly house, I find Gabe leaned against the counter with a bottle of Jack in his grip.
“You should go to bed,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.
I shiver at his words. “I’m not tired.”
He tilts his head back and parts open his lips to swallow back a swig of the amber liquid. His Adam’s apple bobs with the motion. My mouth waters to lick him there. Once he swallows, he turns his hard gaze on me, snuffing out the heat that was kindling inside me. “Fine. But I’m not in the mood to babysit. Go find something to do. Without me.” His words flay me. Cut me right open and make me bleed.
“You’re an asshole.”
He smirks. It reminds me of the smirk Phil gave me that day. “And?”
With a huff, I storm over to him and steal his bottle. I take a swallow of the nasty stuff. His eyes flicker with irritation when I take another swig. He yanks the bottle from my hands so he can drink.
And so begins the next half hour of our evening.
Angry glares.
One bottle of Jack, quickly emptying.
Two hurt people.
A fire that seems to be building again with every second that passes.
“You look so much like your mother, it’s fucking disturbing,” he blurts out, his eyes narrowing and falling to my breasts still hidden in my towel. “Your tits are nicer, though. You…not so much.”
I flip him off. “I bet you wish she was here, so you could make love to her. Is that why she’s so special? You made love to her and told her she was perfect and shit?”
His laugh is more like a loud bark. “She was special because I fucked her just like I fuck you. Hard and without apology. Your mother, unlike you, denied how much she loved it, though. Unfortunately for Baylee, her weepy cunt couldn’t lie.”
Snarling my lip at him, I shake my head in disgust. “You’re a pig.”
“And you’re a psycho.”
When I haul off and kick him, he pounces on me, tearing my towel from my body in one fluid movement before backing me up against the counter.
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I bet your pussy’s dripping for me right now, even as I talk to you like you’re a piece of shit.”
“Maybe my pussy is wet because I’m thinking about stabbing you and burying you with your whore girlfriend, Maria,” I seethe.
He chuckles and his eyes light up with amusement. “You’re feisty as fuck.”
His palm cups my breast. When he dips down to suck my nipple into his mouth, I let my head fall back, enjoying the sensation of his tongue on the sensitive flesh. I latch my fingers into his hair while his kisses my breasts.
“What did you do to my mother that made her hate you so much?” The question always lingers in my mind.
Hot breath tickles my flesh. “It was either the time I fucked her ass with a cucumber shoved up her tight cunt or the time I shot your precious daddy in the chest. I’m really not sure.”
His words should disturb me. But you can’t disturb the disturbed. A giggle starts in my throat and soon I’m full-bellied laughing with tears rolling down my cheeks. He pulls away with an arched eyebrow and a half-smile on his lips.
“Do I entertain you?” he muses.
I nod and guide his hand between my legs. “You’re crazy like me.”
“You just now figured this out?”
He slightly sways and I giggle again.
“It explains why she’s ‘allergic’ to cucumbers,” I tell him, a wicked grin on my face.
“I could make you develop that ‘allergy’ too,” he threatens, but it falls flat since he’s smiling.
Running my fingertip over his lips, I murmur my naughty words. “You could try.”
* * *
I officially know what it would feel like to have two men at once. Gabe wasn’t gentle or kind or loving as he fucked my ass with a frozen vegetable up my twat. He didn’t assure me everything would be okay. He didn’t make any sort of empty promise.
He just fucked me until I came so hard I collapsed.
The entire time, I imagined it was Phil’s frozen prick inside of me while Gabe drove into my ass. It made for a fantasy that would only ever happen in my dreams. And, oh what beautiful dreams they were.
After we finished and cleaned up, he wouldn’t stop laughing at me. I was annoyed, but I couldn’t help but be tickled by his boyish amusement.
He said I was too good to be true.
Nothing but his own fantasy come to life.
It was then, in our perfect post sexual haze, that I gave him what he wanted.
“I want you to be happy. When the summer is over, let’s go get your girl and bring her home to us.”
Once I uttered those words, Gabe flipped me over and made love to me so sweet, it made me cry. With our fingers intertwined while he thrust into me and our eyes connected, he whispered promises I hope he can keep.
About forever.
About family.
Love.
Us.
“This isn’t over, baby,” he assured me. “It’s only just begun.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gabe
Three and a half weeks later…
We’re out.
Been out for five days.
I’m going to kill her.
Stroking her blonde hair while she lies with her head in my lap, I contemplate my next move. There’s always online Mexican drug companies. Or, I could get her a fake ID so we could see a doctor. But the testing could take more time than we can afford. I don’t need them to waste precious fucking time trying to diagnose my girl. I already know what she needs. She needs the goddamned Clozapine and Celexa or I’m going to choke her to death.
When she’s high and happy and in love, the girl fucks like a goddess and we can’t get enough of each other. But when she hits her lows, I worry she’ll cut my throat in my sleep. She’s unpredictable. She’s unstable. She’s motherfucking insane.
I’m going to have to do something that could really be dangerous to us both.
I’m going to have to go to War.
Sure, the fucker probably wants to put a bullet through my skull—even though I doubt the pansy could stomach it. Hannah’s worth whatever shit I have to go through because I need her well and whole again. I was an idiot to ever think she could exist free of medication. I’d had no idea the depth of her mental illness.
“I love this movie,” she says softly, her finger drawing hearts on my kneecap. “It’s so romantic.”
I chuckle and raise an eyebrow. “Dracula is romantic? Or is Luke Evans just sexy? You’re kind of hot for villains.”
“Villains need love too,” she retorts.
That they do.
And in our story, we’re both the motherfucking villains.
“Sweet girl?”
“Mmm?”
“I want to take you on a trip. We can go swim at that secluded beach. This time I’ll let you fuck me,” I say with a smile.
She sits up and flashes me a worried look. Her brows are furled together as she bites on her bottom lip for a hair before speaking. “Why? That’s awfully close to home. What if someone recognizes us?”
I run my thumb along her bottom lip. “We’ll be fine. San Diego’s a big city. Plus, I need to get something for you while we’re there.”
Her pupils dilate for a moment, anger flickering in her eyes. “What?”
“Your fucking meds.”
She scrunches her nose and snarls her lip. “I don’t need them. I’m fine, see?” Her slender fingers motion at her face. And today, she is fine. So fucking fine. I wish I had her like this all of the time. It’s when she’s not fine that’s the problem. Her ups and downs are too high and too low. We need to coast in the motherfucking middle.
“I love you,” I assure her. “You know this. And that is why I am doing this for you. Trust me, baby.”
She straddles my hips and wraps her arms over my shoulders. Her lips are pouting, but her eyes tell me she’ll concede. “How do you plan on getting my medication?”
I close my eyes and let out a sigh. “I’m going to have to contact your dad.”
“No.”
Popping my eyes open, I glare at her. “What do you mean no?”
“You’re not going to hurt him.”
I cup her cheek and drag my thumb along her full bottom lip. “I swear to you, beautiful, I’m not going to fucking hurt him. He might try and hurt me, but I’m not going to touch a hair on his goddamned head. He can refill your prescription, though, and get it to me until I can secure your new identification and doctor. We have to do this.”
She frowns. “Dad might involve the police. What happens if he sets you up? They’ll tear us apart. I can’t live without you. I’m happy for the first time ever.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You don’t know my dad. He’s smart and can hack into any computer network out there. If we weren’t out in the middle of nowhere, I have no doubt he would’ve found me already.”
Once upon a time, he evaded me and holed away my Baylee. But I found them. I always do. And they never found me again. I’ve got this.
“We’ll make it work. I promise you.”
* * *
“Hello?” the deep voice answers.
I lean against the shitty pay phone with my eyes on Hannah. She’d wanted a cherry Icee at the convenience store. Instead of blending in, she’s drawing motherfucking attention from every male who walks past her. Her blonde hair blows in the wind while she sucks on the red straw as if it’s the most delicious fucking thing she’s ever wrapped her lips around. The short dress she’s wearing keeps flapping up, and I swear to God, if some asshole approaches my girl, I’ll beat the shit out of him in the parking lot.
“War?”
A growl in response. “Gabe?”
“We need to talk,” I tell him bluntly. “About Hannah.”
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses into the phone. “She better be all right.”
I can hear tapping on his computer. The motherfucker is probably trying to triangulate my location or some shit. “Stop trying to find us,” I tell him. “We’re coming to you.”
“You’re bringing her home?” The surprise is evident in his voice.
“Fuck that. She doesn’t want to come home. But we do need something that belongs to her.”
He remains silent.
“I need you to refill her prescriptions. Today.”
“She’s been off them for a few days now,” he clips out. “Is she okay? Has she tried to hurt herself?”
I think about Maria’s bloody bloated corpse. And that was when she actually was on meds. I don’t even want to think about Hannah at her worst.
“She hasn’t tried to hurt herself. She’s safe and happy. But I’m afraid I can’t keep her that way all of the time without them.”
He lets out a breath of frustration. “What am I supposed to do? Just hand over my daughter’s meds and pray you don’t shoot me in the chest again?”
I smirk. “Don’t be a pussy. That was nearly two decades ago. You lived. And yes, that’s exactly what I want.”
“We want to see her. To talk to her.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why the hell not?” he demands.
“Because I’m not fucking stupid. You’ll try and convince her to come home.”
The line goes silent again. “She can’t come home.”
At this I laugh. “Wow, man, she really was too much for you to handle like she said. Poor girl. I can fucking handle her.”
He growls again. “I can handle her just fine. I love my daughter. Problem is,” he says lowly. “She’s wanted in connection of the murder of Alejandra Cruz-Diaz. Alejandra’s husband is wanted as well. Her fingerprints were all over the house and the murder weapon. This is really bad for her.”
