Page 93 of Little Bird
I open my eyes slowly, my mind still caught in the dream I was having and my body sluggish to respond. Where the fuck am I? What’s going on? A quick glance around me shows me the big picture window. The dresser where I keep my clothes. The ceiling where Gabe and I once stuck a whole sheet full of stickers so it looked like the night sky.
I’m in my room at Gunner’s house, but I have no memory of getting here.
There’s a gasp to my right, and I freeze, realizing that I’m not in this bed on my own. Now that I’m focusing, I feel a heavy weight next to me, warmth that doesn’t belong to me seeping into my skin. A large, muscular arm makes its way across my body and I finally turn, wondering who’s with me.
Whether they can tell me how I got here.
When I look down, I realize I know that arm. I know those tattoos, the fuzz along the back of his hand. I remember how those fingertips scratch when they drag across my skin. How those hands feel when they grasp my hips and pull me toward him. The brush of his lips on mine. The warmth of his nose when he nudges at my neck.
The way he whispers my name when he slides inside me.
“Gabe,” I murmur.
I turn and see him laying so close that I can smell him, and God, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Dark circles smudge the skin under his eyes and there’s a long scratch along his temple. Tear stains streak down his cheeks.
He’s been crying.
I put a gentle finger to one of those tracks and frown. “Why are you crying?”
He looks at me like I’m asking the stupidest question in the world, then closes his eyes and gathers me quickly into his arms, holding me like I’m his only tether to the world. Like his life depends on having me as close as possible.
I turn and fold myself against him, reveling in the feel of his body against mine. I don’t know why he’s crying or why he’s holding me so tightly, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that he’s in my bed with me, offering me his warmth and his body, and that he needs me. Something’s wrong with my Gabe, and he’s come to me for comfort and protection.
I grow still when I realize he’s actually talking to me, his words a constant murmur against my hair. But I can’t understand what he’s saying.
“What?” I whisper. “Gabe, what are you saying?”
“Almost lost you,” he says more loudly. “Too close. Way too close. We almost lost you.”
He’s sobbing now, his body shaking, and I freeze.
Because suddenly I remember what he’s talking about. Gabe and Gunner were fighting and suddenly I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t take the shouting or the anger or the conflict. I had to get out of there. I escaped through the bathroom to my room, the two of them still shouting, and though I wanted to lay down and cover my head with a pillow, pretend it wasn’t happening, my phone buzzed in my hand and distracted me.
When I looked down, I found another text from my mother, and this one said she knew where I was and was coming for me. Coming to ruin Gabe and Gunner.
And that decided me. I had to get out of there. I’d packed everything I could grab, throwing it into the bag I stole from Stella, and ran. I grabbed keys on the way out and took Gunner’s remaining truck, thinking I’d leave it for him in a larger city. Call and tell him where it was.
After I was on a train bound for some other city where my mother would never think to look for me, someplace where she couldn’t hurt Gabe and Gunner.
But the night was darker than I expected, the road icy and the temperatures freezing, and I’d been upset. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that I’d made a terrible mistake. I couldn’t control the truck against the ice and snow, and I’d been going far too fast. When the wheels started sliding, I’d tried to stop them, but had known I was fighting a losing battle.
I hadn’t even been surprised when I lost control and started heading for the cliff.
I’d known I was going to die, and that Gabe and Gunner would never forgive me.
Then I’d looked to my left, just after I hit the tree, and seen my men somehow right there, jumping out of an ATV with their eyes on me, their arms and legs pumping as they sprinted toward me. A glance further to the left and I’d seen why they looked so terrified.
The mountain above me was coming down, snow and trees heading for me in a slow, unforgiving slide that was going to take out the road itself. The truck.
Me.
My eyes went back to my men, the blood slow and sluggish in my veins as I got ready to say goodbye to them. But they weren’t stopping. They were running faster, shouting to each other as they ran, and then they were sliding toward the truck, their hands out as the snow started to come down around us.
“You came for me,” I breathed. “You didn’t let me die.”
Gabe sobs aloud, though it’s part laugh. “Let you die? Taryn, that would have killed us both.”
I close my eyes on an emotion too big, too intense, to name, and let it wash through my body like a wave of pure feeling. They came for me. They came for me. Into the snow and ice and avalanche, into the face of guaranteed death. They chose me.
