Page 51 of Johnny Gun

He gave her a quizzical look. “Yes. Did you have something else in mind?”

“Um, no. Nothing. I thought…” Lord, her eyes burned, and her lungs struggled for air as the house continued to suck her down.

“Nope. You’re done here. I’ll catch up with you later.” Turning his back to her, he switched his attention to the items inside the pantry. The message was clear: leave. What little was left of her sense of self-worth bristled. Why stand here, a begging fool waiting for him to throw her a morsel of his attention?

Clutching her soda water, she walked to her bedroom. Putting the bottle on the nightstand, she held Mr. Bubbles to her chest and dropped her forehead between his soft, furry ears. Isolde didn’t want to cry, but she was at her wits’ end. The distance between them had stretched to miles. They were further apart now than before her ill-conceived act with the jukebox. And Johnny wasn’t mellowing one bit.

Would he take her back to Dalton?

A hitched sob escaped her chest, and a burning tear rolled down her cheek. She slapped it away before it splotched her stuffie.

“Are you hurt?” he asked from the doorway.

She held her breath. Instead of answering, she shook her head.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said. “And bring your stuffie.”

She stood. “Why?”

“Stuffies are good for reassurance.”

How the hell does he know about stuffies?With that thought, a scalding wave of jealousy rose within her as a faceless woman formed in her mind.

“What are you thinking about?” His gaze went deep. She wanted to avoid his probing, but couldn’t. Johnny’s eyes wouldn’t release her.

Isolde rolled the lie around in her mouth and considered her options. In the end, she decided to deal with the embarrassment and tell him the truth.

“I wondered how you knew so much about stuffies, and I got jealous.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Because?”

“A Little other than me told you about them.”

“I see. What’s its name?”

“Huh?”

“Your stuffie’s name.”

“Mr. Bubbles.”

“Bring Mr. Bubbles to the living room.”

She watched Johnny leave her doorway without following him. He hadn’t said anything about her jealousy remark, and she’d expected, at a minimum, a correction from him.

“Wish me luck, Mr. Bubbles. I’m going to need it,” she whispered to the friendly face she’d known for a long time, then shuffled down the hallway, prepared to meet her doom.

He sat at the edge of a sofa, rubbing his forehead. Johnny hadtossed his long hair over his shoulder, and nothing hid his troubled, handsome face. He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard her footsteps, locked his gaze with hers, and tried to smile, but it didn’t work. In her bones, she felt the deep sadness reflected in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted, unable to stop herself. “What I did was silly and childish. I didn’t want that guy’s attention. I misbehaved to get a reaction from you. I didn’t think of the consequences. You were so angry, it scared me.”

“A reaction.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Why?”

Squeezing Mr. Bubbles for courage, she moved closer. “Because.” She lifted a shoulder. “Da… Johnny, you were different when we got here. Something changed after we left Dalton. I felt rejected, pushed away. Like you’d lost interest or didn’t want me anymore. You wouldn’t let me help you and barely spoke to me. And I…”

He took a deep breath. “Went on the offensive, the only way you knew how.”

Isolde stopped before him. “I did. And I’m so, so sorry. But I was also desperate to get your attention.”

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