Page 43 of Battle Scars

“Probably not,” I answer honestly. In the silent aftermath of our intimacy, I feel like it would be disrespectful to us both for me to prevaricate in any way. What surprises me most is the laughter that bursts from his chest and overtakes him so thoroughly that he drops forward and touches his mouth to mine through it.

“Maybe I should fuck you slow for good measure,” he says, smiling against my skin.

“Mmm,” I reply noncommittally. “Why Gabe and not Navarro? It’s still your name?”

I instantly want to yank the words back. I was so swept up in the power of him that I forgot, just for a moment, that this isn’t real. I forgot that I only get what Gabe is willing to give me and nothing more. I’m not to ask, not to push. He’s made that clear enough, and yet, I can’t seem to help myself.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked⁠—”

“Gabriel,” he answers quietly. “It’s my first name.”

“I didn’t figure you for an angel,” I say, feeling his big body shrug against mine in the dark.

“Who knows. My mom’s a nut.”

“What—” I start, but I don’t get the words out, because he presses his mouth to mine, thrusting his tongue between my lips and stealing all rational thought from my brain.

“It’s time to fuck you slow,” he murmurs into the night as he covers my body with his and slides in deep.

He takes his time, fucking me slowly, deeply.

I call him Gabe two more times, just like he asked me to.

Afterward, I fall asleep with him curled around me, holding me tight in the dark. And when I wake up the next morning, he’s gone, and the pillows on the other side of the bed are not creased, clearly having not been slept on.

The only signs he was even here, like a specter, are the ache deep in my body, just like he promised, and his cum on the sheets.

EIGHTEEN

SHE CALLED ME AN ANGEL

Gabe

Ipush myself harder as I run through the canyon. Salt air fills my lungs and the cool breeze from the marine layer chills the sweat on my skin.

Instead of hitting Adrienne’s private gym this morning, I wanted a run outside in the fresh air—not boxed up inside. I feel good. I feel like things are turning around. Like my life isn’t over yet. I’m not a dead man walking, waiting for the moment that I can finally give up and just lay down and die.

Something changed last night, for me, for Adrienne, and everything that I’ve wanted but not let myself voice. I don’t have all the answers yet, but I think we can figure it out, we’ve got time, and I’m not going to waste it.

I let my thoughts bounce to her as my feet hit the rocky dirt beneath me. Her dark hair, her eyes, and the way her lashes flutter when I fuck her. The dirty things she whispered in my ear last night and the way she says my name when she comes…

But most of all, I keep thinking about how she called me an angel.

NINETEEN

SPARK

Adrienne

This has to stop. I have to stop being so weak, so monumentally stupid. I can’t keep letting Gabe yank me back into his bed, only to throw me away again.

It’s been three days since The Dames shoot and the night in my bed that followed. I should have let things die when I realized he was gone the next morning. I should have stuck to my guns when I met him in the kitchen an hour later and he was back to treating me like garbage.

Did I do that? No, I didn’t, because I’m weak and so very stupid.

That night, he was back in my room, in my space. I should have told him to march his happy ass right back out, but again, I didn’t. Instead, I let him slide into my bed and welcomed him again into my body. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone.

Lather, rinse, repeat.