Page 93 of Avery's Hero

The pulse in his temple throbs. All the veins there are standing out like he might blow one any second.

Intentionally, I keep my voice even. “Care to know any more about my personal life? Ask away.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares at me with eyes that are so much like his sister’s but are hardened from years in prison.

“So, what’s the real story of you getting locked up?”

“I beat some fucking scumbag whose son bullied Avery at school. The son held her against the lockers and kissed her while taunting her about being poor, making fun of her clothes while he manhandled her. She went to the Principal but the old man covered up for his son with his money. Then the old bastard had the nerve to gun his car and swerve it at her in the parking lot. If she hadn’t jumped out of the way she’d have been hit. Scared the hell out of her.”

Everything inside of me goes molten with anger. I’ve never wanted more to hunt someone down. “The son got away with sexually assaulting Avery?”

“Yep. She was sixteen. Dillon was a big kid, he was a senior. No one helped, but she beat him off and reported it to the officials. Of course, Dillon’s father was a major donor to the school and on the board, so…”

My breath is stuck, searing a hole in my chest. I’m barely able to speak. “Jesus.”

“They made her life hell for years. She didn’t tell me. I’m not sure why, at first, but later, because I was in the fire academy and she didn’t want to wreck my chances of finishing.”

The urge to throw up seizes me. An animal sound rumbles in my throat. Anger flares hot in my veins. Violent and dark. I’ve never felt more murderous in my life.

My hands burn to rip that fucker and his father apart. Expose and destroy the school and leave a wake of destruction like a tornado.

“Did you destroy that fucker, Dillon?”

“I didn’t get a chance. He went off to college in Italy by the time she told me. Listen to this, the bastard got arrested in Italy for assault and is now serving time. The father tried to get him cleared again, but that time, it didn’t work.”

He shakes his head. “She kept everything from me until the last day of our final evals. That’s why you beat me out as the top of the class that day. I went on a bender the night before because I couldn’t deal with it.”

Our entire class wondered what happened to G.S. Ellis. We were neck in neck the entire time we were in the academy, a testosterone cauldron of competition at its worst. Now, I know.

“How long before you beat up the old man? I don’t remember the timeline.”

“A year after I got out and started working.”

“How did you control yourself so long?”

He grunts, rubs his face. The twisted scars catch the light. Gunnar’s knuckles have seen more than a few fights and some walls, looks like. “I broke two arms, and dislocated another in my MMA gym. I beat people half to death if they dared spar with me.”

“Then you snapped.”

He nods, his expression hardening, his eyes going distant. “I saw him one day. Out in the open. No one around except the two of us. We were at a gas station. Scared the fuck out of him. I slammed his head in his Jaguar door.”

“And kicked him until someone pulled you off,” I finish for him. “I saw the news clips. I thought you had a hair-trigger temper the whole time we were in the academy. I guess I know why now. Your life was hard as fuck.”

“I was raising Avery. Working any job I could get whileI was taking classes. Trying to keep an apartment. She needed a safe place. I was the one who had to give it to her.”

Slowly, Gunnar unclenches his hands. He paces across the grass that borders the parking lot. “Then I got sent to prison. And she was all alone.”

“She’s done okay. She’s fine.”

“She shouldn’t have had to do it alone.” There’s pure agony in his voice.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know. You might not believe this, but if I’d have known I would have helped you both.”

He shakes his head, looks toward the sky. “I can’t believe I just spent five years in prison. I feel like I’m a thousand years old.”

What do you say to a person in his shoes? I have no idea. “What do you need now?”

“Fuck if I know,” he admits. “Time.” He paces more. His energy simmers, ebbs and flows. “A job.”

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