Avenging Us (Rocker Series Book 3) (4 page)

I threw my arms around him and squeezed tightly for the man he was already, and the father I knew he would be. The sound of his strong heart proved to be a constant comfort. “I’d like to
nest
with you.” I kissed his lips, sucking on my favorite piercing. “Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out, Mr. Gunner…you go and do this.”

He smiled and his eyes flickered mischievously. He often talked about me being responsive to his touch, but
he
was like a cat. One touch and he purred, shooting a throb straight to my core. I’d have plenty of time to thank him properly. I walked over to the painted mural of Little Bo Peep and her sheep. The sun hit it on an angle and it appeared to be textured…almost 3D.
Girl.

He stood, arms folded against the door jam. His T-shirt rode up just a little to expose the fine line of heavenly hair that disappeared into his waistband. My eyes focused on him. He raised a single brow and I regained my composure. The opposite wall was masculine and very
Abel Gunner
. A painted replica of the guitar that Abel owned with a matching microphone stand—a bandana tied around it that read “Lethal Abel.” Baby musical notes like Zzzzzzz’s over a sleeping babe adorned the wall above the painting.
Boy
, I gushed.

Abel’s dimpled smile grabbed my heart when he pointed up with his thumb. I looked at the ceiling and regarded thousands of tiny stars that danced above a full moon.
Wishes.
My eyes watered and I tried to hold it together. However, something shook the foundation I stood on.

The room’s only piece of furniture was a single, white-washed antique rocking chair. My hand fell along the high back and I walked around to take a seat. It was surprisingly comfortable. My eyes met his and he answered before I asked. “It was my mother’s. Mine.” He threw out casually. “She used to rock me to sleep in it. Apparently, I wasn’t a good sleeper.” He walked over to where I sat and bent down. “You don’t have to use it. My mom offered, and I thought maybe you’d like it. But it’s all good, babe.” He half-smiled and it shook something in me.

I thought about the words he said and the pained look on his face. I mean, who wouldn’t want something of his. I would treasure it. “Of course I want it. It’s yours. I want everything that’s yours. Are you kidding me?” I shook my head in amazement. And then it all hit me. He had already anticipated my response. After all, he was not only my fiancé, but my loving Dom. The one who knew my thoughts before I had them.

The sound of my heart whooshing blood through my veins. And then little white bursts started to close in. I tried to focus on his colorful tatted arms. Something. Anything. It was no use. This was bigger than me. Bigger than us. His arms found mine and pulled me to the floor in one fluid motion. It was official. I had nothing from my childhood. No scribblings. No baby pictures. No class pictures. No jewelry. Not even a lousy baby dish. I had nothing to pass down to my own child. I had absolutely nothing. And there we sat…me in his lap on a carpet of ABCs and I sobbed. My heart broke into a tiny million pieces of nothingness. The steeled drawer in my mind I had locked up tight reopened. My heart grew heavy for the childhood I missed. The family I never experienced, and the love never offered. A shaken mess, I looked up at him and studied his eyes. The eyes that spoke the
unspoken
words.
I love you
.

My tears leaked over my puffy cheeks and onto my swollen lips. “Why would you ever want to be with a…nothing? I come from nothing. I am nothing. How could I possibly be a good mother?” I blinked away the fresh tears. “Do you know how damaged and fucked up I am?”

He wiped my tears with the back of his hand and leaned in close. His voice steady and powerful. “You still don’t get it, do you? You. Are. Everything.” His lips took hold of mine and I abandoned myself to him. I found strength in his words as they echoed in my mind, but mainly, it was the mutual despair his eyes held that strengthened me.

He spoke the words, but my heart felt like it was bleeding. Wrapped haphazardly in years’ worth of fear and secrets. It wasn’t easily discarded. I prayed one day I’d find the freedom and would no longer struggle in the dark…

The morning dew settled where the memories of the past were washed away and a new day began. It was a beautiful day in LA. I decided to get some sun out by the pool. Neat, manicured vegetation grew on the far end of the infinity pool. I sat entranced by the beauty that lay beyond, the unobstructed view of Hollywood laid out before me. And it was stunning. I sat in my favorite lounge chair and watched the condensation drip from the pitcher of iced-tea.
Cindy
. We needed to catch up. The time here was one in the afternoon and she was an hour ahead. Perfect. It was after lunchtime. I scrolled to Cindy’s number, hit call, and sat back.

She answered after the second ring. “I was just thinking about you, Gia. I miss your crazy ass.” She huffed—must’ve been out running errands. “Wait, are you in labor?”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “No, I’m only in my second trimester…and I miss you like crazy.” We only spent long weekends together since Germany. “Listen, we’re having a big Fourth of July party. It gives you plenty of time to figure shit out. Who knows, maybe the baby will come early. Do you want to miss that?”

She sighed heavily. “Of course not! And by people…do you mean that Mc-Irish prick?”

I felt her pain. I really did. She fell hard for Woody, and was still in denial. I long suspected she held a special place in his heart. However, Woody loved the whole scene and was nowhere near ready to settle down. Cindy had a blasé attitude about it, and regarded her time with Woody as a fleeting affair. I saw through her thick skin and deep into her heart. After all, she was my closest friend and I had a doctorate in denying feelings. But, her life was in Colorado, and a good one. A secure job with Gunner ESQ, and she was Mr. Gunner’s right hand. It didn’t hurt that he paid her well. He had been a gem in the past by letting her spend weeks with me on tour. I didn’t know what I would’ve done without his intervening or her loyal friendship.

“Why so angry, Cin?” The banter that followed was good for my soul. I’d missed her and our girl-time—it had been a while since I had any. Abel’s mom had flown out a few times. However, after learning about what she did to Chance, I kept her at arm’s length. Her relationship with Abel was held together by the barest thread. His face held no love, only disgust. Believe me, I got his pain, and I tried my hardest to help bridge the gap…figuring it would be healthier for our family as a whole. We had a new life we were bringing into the world, and maybe the past should stay in the past.

“Nah, not angry. Just callin’ it like I see it. Anyway, I’m sure that caveman has you plenty occupied.” Her voice mixed with sarcasm and promise. She was breaking down. I could hear it.

“This is true, but there’s nothing like having your girl.” I hinted, but then decided to beg. “Please…I’ll send you a ticket, and you know you can stay here.”

“I don’t need a ticket. I can buy my own.”

“So, you’ll come?” I was already bouncing in my chair.

“Do you really think I’d ever say no? I’m only considering, because I miss you, the potential for hot guys is high, and I could have a brand new baby Abel or Gia to hold.”

I clapped nearly dropping my phone. “Well I hoped to have some girl-time before the baby comes. Besides, I’ve sent you plenty of pictures of the hot LA guys recently. The incentive is high my friend.” We hung up and I shed another layer of angst and hope and joy filled my heart.

A cool Santa Ana breeze swept across my groggy body. Sleep still clung to my limbs, and the sun sat lower in the sky. It was a typical hot, muggy June day in Los Angeles, but none of that mattered at this point. Sticky weather, frustrating traffic, and dense-fog, all of life’s little distractions melted away in an instant with the exciting news. I was now on weekly visits to the OB, and we found out last night the newest chapter in our lives would most likely come early. A few months ago, I chose to find out the sex of the baby. Abel chose not to. He explained, “There are too few surprises in life. Why would I want to ruin one of the biggest ones?” It made sense, and it was his choice. Which, I respected. So I decorated the nursery in neutral colors…for now.

“Well…well…well. I can see that broody alpha was right sending me to check up on you.” Chance tsked. He carried a wooden tray filled with fruits, two Cobb salads, and oatmeal raisin cookies and set it on the table.

I sat up, shading my eyes with my hand. “Well, thank fuck he did. Look at all this goodness you’ve brought me.” I lied, but smiled anyway. “I need help.”

“I can see that…” He kidded. It was getting harder and harder these days to do the simplest of things like getting up from a sitting position. Forget about tying my own sneakers. I lived in flip-flops recently.

He beamed happily, and bit the swell of his lip as he helped me up. I walked over and took a seat under the shade of the umbrella. He poured a fresh glass of iced tea for us both and drove his fingers through his sun-kissed hair—the ends long enough to skirt along the collar of his shirt. He wore bright blue board shorts that hung deep below his hips, showing the cuts along either side of his abdomen. My eyes cruised up and down his body, taking inventory. How he was still single was a mystery. Boohoo for all the girls on my team and heehaw for all the boys on his. Chance was one word—devastating. I wouldn’t say he was the “boy next door” because there weren’t boys like
that
next door.

He sat and handed me a napkin. “Please stop raping me with your eyes. You’re pregnant with someone else’s baby, and it’s uncomfortable.” He rolled his eyes dramatically and I laughed. I mean, I
really
laughed, because it was true. He was pretty to look at, and the pregnancy has done some fucked-up shit to my hormones. Chance’s wit was only part of the charm and very much appreciated these days.

Abel and he were on the road to healing. It hasn’t been an easy road, but at the end of the day…Abel chose his friend over the unfortunate situation that was dealt long ago. Fear fed the monster that had gained momentum, and Chance didn’t have the courage to yield against it. We all learned some lessons that day—forgiveness sat high on the list. However, without fear, there cannot be courage.

I quickly stuffed my mouth with salad and realized I was missing something. Something that I needed more than my next breath. “Hmm…”

“Are you looking for
this
, little pregnant demoness?” Chance handed me a dish covered by a white linen napkin, which I happily accepted.

I uncovered it hastily, nearly dropping it to the floor. Another symptom of pregnancy…butter fingers. I’m a clumsy bitch.

“My god, I have never seen someone ‘shark’ for chocolate and pickles like you.” He shook his head in revulsion. “Totally disgusting.”

It was half-sour dill pickle spears with a side of tiny peanut butter cups. I bit into a pickle and tossed a few candies in my mouth. “You need to try it. It’s the best combo I ever created.” Another truth…in recent months I’ve concocted more unpleasant noshes than Chance cares to recall.

“You’re disgusting, you know that? I’m sick to my stomach watching you.” His face paled and I smiled, enjoying the show.

“Then why did you sneak it to me?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. However, I could never get used to hearing it.

“Ha! I ask myself that every day.
Chance, why do you continue to enable someone with an addiction?
The answer is simple…you don’t have the right equipment for my tastes,” he said while wagging his eyebrows teasingly. “So, in order for me to see what you look like while having an orgasm, I must sneak you things the broody man won’t allow you to have. I swear, the doctor makes one comment about how you shouldn’t have something and he goes all caveman on your ass and you develop an addiction.”

I took another bite of my pickle as he filled his plate with salad and fruit. “Pfft, I’m not addicted. I could stop anytime I want.”

His hand swept across the table to take my beloved dish.

“Touch that and you die.” I grabbed my fork, ready to stab him.