Hate Sober (Love Me Duet 2)

Maybe I should just do it, that’s the last part of him which is stuck to me. His damn name. But I never thought I would be able to get rid of it. I’m now a Reid for life, or so I thought.

And that kiss.

Those hands gripping me so I couldn’t move.

I’ve kissed other men, but none compare to Gunner Reid. I think that’s the problem, I compare everything to him when I need to stop doing that.

But fuck, that kiss.

It was a kiss that sent shivers all over my body and makes me second-guess everything. Gunner and I never lacked attraction, but that wasn’t our downfall. Our downfall was how he treated me, like I was all those other women he had before me.

I was his wife at the time, and he didn’t give me the respect you should get being a wife. I knew he wasn’t a good man, and I had accepted that about him. You take the good with the bad, and I thought my love for him would outweigh the bad.

How wrong I was.

I contemplate calling him, to tell him to stay away from Buck. But it would be useless, Gunner never listens to me anyway. He does what he wants. And no one will stop him, especially not me. That has been proven to me time and again.

Stepping out of my apartment, it’s still early. I need to get to the café to sort through stock before the end of the month. I usually leave this up to my staff, but it’s been a nice distraction all week from my outside life because it helps me to stop thinking.

Shutting the door behind me, I turn into a hard body.

“Sorry,” I mumble, pushing back, but hands grab hold of my upper arms, gripping me tightly.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Everly.” I look up and see dark hair, it’s almost the same as Gunner’s but not quite. I attempt to step back from Roberto’s grip, but he tightens his hold, not letting go. “It’s a shame you picked him,” he says with a smirk.

I look around, it’s still dark and no one’s here. It’s just us.

Fear paralyzes me in place as I realize he’s not someone I should be around right now.

“W-What…” I stammer. Roberto just shakes his head and grips me harder. “You’re hurting me,” I say, trying to pull free.

He continues to just smirk.

“I didn’t want bad blood with your family, Everly, but this is the only way. You should have been with someone else. He wasn’t meant to love you.” I’m confused by Roberto’s words, and then it clicks, he’s talking about Gunner.

“Gunner doesn’t love anyone but himself.” He tisks at me. “Come on now, Everly. Are those the lies you tell yourself, or do you believe that?” Actually, it’s a bit of both, but I don’t voice that. “I see, you don’t know.” Roberto releases one arm and starts moving, dragging me with him. I pull back, trying to escape, but his hold is strong and he turns around and slaps me hard across the face. For a second, blackness coats my vision, and he has to pull me harder to keep me straight. “I wouldn’t try it. I have no problem hurting you, Everly, so don’t make me do it.”

My hand touches my face where it stings from his slap, and water springs to my eyes as he pushes me into a car.

How did I not see this before? This neighborhood is safe, so I’ve never bothered looking around when I walk out of my own home.

A whimper escapes me as he shuts the door, locking me in. There’s a driver, but he pays no attention as Roberto slides in the car. I’ve met him a handful of times, and each time he was a man who I didn’t want to be around for long. I guess now, my assumption was right.

“My father…” I say, and he reaches for my bare thigh.

Fuck! Why did I wear a skirt? I should have worn jeans.

He grips it hard, cutting my words off. “Your father will blame Gunner, and I will get what I want.”

“What do you want?” I manage to ask, and he simply smiles at my words.

“Everything he has.”

His hand slides up my thigh, and I try my hardest to clench them together, so he can’t go any higher. He stops as I feel the brush of his fingertips at my panties. “Even you… if I please.”

No way.

No fucking way.

He laughs at my reaction and pulls his hand down, then he turns away and takes a photograph of me then goes back to his phone.

I look around, trying to see if there’s anything I can do to get out of this car. It’s moving fast, but I don’t want to be in here with Roberto right now. Quickly reaching for the door handle, I touch it, pull, and it opens the door. I attempt to jump, but I hesitate, and when I do, he grabs me by the waist. I start to struggle. My bag, which was on my shoulder, falls out along with everything in it. He pulls me back in and slams the lock down before he pushes me back, hard, against the seat.