Hate Sober (Love Me Duet 2)

Pity my head says otherwise as I fall to the floor of the shower and let the water blend in with my tears as I cry until I can’t cry any longer.

23

Gunner

“What do you want to do with him?” Jasper asks, kicking a dead Roberto on the floor.

“I don’t fucking care. Get your men to deal with it.” He tisks at me. “What?” I’m still looking out at where she left.

“Don’t go after her. Give her time to process this shit.”

I spin around to face him. “Don’t fucking presume to know what I will or won’t do.”

Jasper rolls his eyes. He isn’t bothered by my threats.

“Just give her time is all I’ve suggested. Don’t be a dick.”

I flip him off and turn around to where her blood is all over the floor.

“Get out.” He looks at me and draws his eyebrows in together. “Get out,” I repeat, and he does so.

Walking out the back, I pick up the gasoline bottle. I come to a stop when I step back in. His body is on the floor and it makes me so angry that I start soaking his body with gasoline, then throw it around the room. Pulling out my lighter, I flick the ignitor and throw it into the gas. Then I watch as his fucking body burns. Walking out the front door, Isadora is back and standing next to Jasper, his arm is around her protectively as she leans on him. I look back to see the flicker of fire through the windows as it begins to set everything ablaze.

I loved this house.

This was my home.

And now it only holds awful memories, which have overridden any good ones.

“Holy shit! Well, fuck,” Jasper says, shaking his head.

Turning to face them, I look to Isadora who’s returned from dropping off Everly. “Where did you take her?”

She looks to the ground, then back to me. “I don’t think she wants your company,” she replies, then bites her lip.

“I don’t care what you think. What I asked was… where you took her.”

Something sparks in her eyes and her hand goes straight to her hip. “Do you really think it smart to go after her right now?” she asks with her head cocked to the side.

“Isadora….”

She stiffens and shakes her head. “I shouldn’t tell you…” she looks to Jasper, then back to me, “… but I dropped her off at her parents’. However, I would suggest giving her time. She needs lots of time. She isn’t built like us.”

Isadora’s words ring true, but it’s hard to give someone time when you know they’re hurting, especially when you love that someone.

Walking away, I can when I hear my house—my parents’ house—burn to the ground, and that sound isn’t easy to take. I don’t know what I planned to do with that house, but it wasn’t this. It’s taking away the old and new memories with it, and, somehow, I now have to learn to move on from that.

Sitting in my car, I start it up. I see Jasper and Isadora walk off to their car as I pull out. I’m saying goodbye to something I loved and hello to someone I love.

Driving straight to her parents’ house, her father is out front before I even get out of the car. His tense body is stiff and his hands are enclosed in front of him. As I walk up the first step, he shakes his head. “No, don’t you dare,” he seethes. He has every right to be angry. His daughter’s hurting and I’m to blame. “You cannot see her, so don’t even ask.”

I look up to the windows, knowing exactly where her old room is located, then back to him. “I want to see my wife,” I say in a hard voice.

“She isn’t your wife anymore,” he spits. “You saw to that, Gunner.”

The door opens and Everly’s mother steps outside.

“She cried herself to sleep. Give her time, Gunner.” It’s all she says before she steps back inside but doesn’t close the door.

It breaks my heart to know she did that and I wasn’t there to comfort her. I thought I could unlove her. How fucking wrong I was.

“I’ll be back. Today is all I’m giving her. Tomorrow, you won’t be able to stop me from seeing her.” I turn and get back into my car.

Her father stands on the steps outside and watches me drive off until I’m out of sight.

24

Everly

I ate. It was a small amount, but I ate. Then I went back to sleep.

I’ve eaten very little in the time I have been in my bedroom. It’s the last thing on my mind. Everything’s too hard. I can’t move. Honestly, I just don’t want to move.

It’s easier to sleep than deal with everything. My father’s been in the room multiple times, and every time he entered, I pretended to be asleep. Goodness only knows how many times he’s actually been in here checking on me, because it’s been a lot when I’ve been pretending, and I’ve been asleep most of the time I’ve been here. I don’t want to deal with his questions. I don’t want to talk about any of it. At all. Ever.