Page 52 of Healed

“The same things you resent me for—pain. You hurt one of my favourite people in the entire world. And I know,” she said as I opened my mouth. “I know it’s not entirely your fault. But the hurt is there all the same. I had to watch as night after night he drank himself that one step closer to death. I had to watch as he internally destroyed himself and pined after a woman he had lost years ago.”

“That’s unfair. I—”

“I just said I know, didn’t I? But feelings are irrational. In my eyes, you hurt my friend. And you did hurt him, Gabriella. Deeply. And I’m not saying that to upset you. I’m telling you it as a fact. He may look fine, but there’s more to Vienna than meets the eye, and he’s hiding a lot. I’m just giving you an opportunity to tell me your side of the story and to work with me so that my feelings can start looking at you as someone we can be nice towards and not someone we want to behead.”

She gave me a small smile to show me she was joking.

Kind of.

“And vodka is going to help with this, is it?” I asked, not wanting to concentrate too much on what she had just said.

“Dante once did it for me. When I first arrived here… well, we hated each other. Dante came up with a way for us to connect. We each reveal something about ourselves, and then we take a drink. You can go first,” she said, pouring me a hefty shot.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Fine. I’ll go first. Your club murdered our ex-president. Which then forced Dante into presidency, which led to the loss of lives and almost ruined our relationship. I kind of hate you for that.”

She threw her drink back and slammed it on the table.

“Wow,” I breathed. “You’re going in hard there, aren’t you?”

“Go big or go home. Your turn,” she challenged, pouring me a drink.

I met her steely gaze with my own and accepted her challenge.

“I watched you shoot my brother. I kind of hate you for that.”

I threw the drink back.

Rachel watched me as I hissed past the burn of the vodka and then nodded.

“You’re right. I did kill Damien. And I’d do it again. You know the rules, Gabby. You ambushed our club. My daughter was on these grounds. You turned Macbeth against us and encouraged the arson attack that burned Bee. I may have killed Damien, but let’s not pretend there wasn’t a series of events that led to that. And if I hadn’t killed him, he would have shot Vienna. Or are we forgetting that?”

“I—”

“You had your gun aimed at me, Gabby. You were ready to shoot me because you wanted to punish Dante for your dad’s death. I get that. But had Vienna not stopped you, I’d be long dead. By your hand. And your brother came running over to attack Vienna, and I acted on instinct. I didn’t know it was your brother—not that I would have stopped if I did know—but it’s not as black and white as simply saying I killed Damien.”

She was right.

I fucking hated that she was right.

But holding on to that grudge had made it easier for me to process Damien’s death, rather than taking the blame for encouraging a reckless attack we had no chance of winning.

I grabbed the vodka and gulped straight from the bottle, hissing when the liquid burned my throat.

“Never as good as you think it’s going to be, is it?” Rachel chuckled.

I didn’t say anything after that. Mainly because I didn’t want her to know that my thoughts were shifting.

“Gabby… talk to me. We were forced to be enemies, but I am not here to make things difficult for you.”

“I know that,” I said. “I wish I didn’t. I wish I could just hate you—all of you. But I know it’s not as black and white as that. I know you’re right. That doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

“I know. And I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, especially with your history with this club. But you have a friend in me, Gabby. I can promise you that.”

“I’m not you, Rachel.”

“I know you’re not. And I’m not asking you to be. No one wants another me, I assure you,” she laughed. “You’re enough exactly as you are.”