No one has ever looked at me that way.
“Tracker shouldn’t have told you,” Gage says, his face and voice still soft. “It should have been me. I was gonna tell you. I swear to you. I was gonna sit you down and explain everything. Talk it out, like this. Give you my reasons and take whatever anger you rightfully dished out, because I know I was going against what you wanted. I was hoping that this would bring you some peace. Some closure. Just… something. I had to do it. I had to, Ami. Even if you were never gonna be mine.”
“I- I know,” I hiccup, shuddery breaths still trapped in my chest like they’ve been caged in and they’re rattling around in there. “It wasn’t Tracker’s fault. I had his number from Leena. I told him he owed it to me to tell me the truth. I guilted him into telling me. I’m sorry. It wasn’t right. I just… I got up and I had this feeling. It wasn’t a good one and I had to know the truth, and I didn’t think you’d tell me. I was… I don’t know. It was making me crazy. I don’t know what’s going on. I feel like I’m a mess. I feel everything, after years of trying to force myself to feel nothing and I don’t know how to deal with it.”
“I don’t think anyone does. Ever. Feeling shit, that’s the scary part. No one does well with being vulnerable and opening themselves up to getting hurt.”
I offer a watery version of a smile. “Here I thought you weren’t a poet.”
“I’m not.” Gage’s face gets serious again, and when he takes my hand between his, I let him, even though it makes me feel dangerous and out of control. Vulnerable. Like he said. “I’m no poet. I’m no good at this either. I might be a lot of things you don’t need and probably won’t ever be enough of what you do, but I promise you, I was never trying to hurt you. Ever. I wasn’t trying to lie to you. I never wanted to use you. God, I wanted the exact fucking opposite. I wanted to give you your life back.I wanted to show you that we’re survivors and even if you don’t choose to be with me, I wanted you to know that there is life after. A good life. I’m happy, as a part of my club. They gave me the family that I never had. Once upon a time, my Prez even tried to give me a wife…”
He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, then his big, calloused, oil-stained fingers thread through mine.
I look down at our joined hands. Contrasting, yet also like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
Gage continues, “Steel matched us perfectly. But if you want, I’ll sign those papers. I’ll sign them and you’ll be free. You can go live your life wherever you choose. You just graduated. You’re a goddamn accountant, which I can’t even wrap my head around. You have the power to support yourself. You can be who you want, where you want, on your terms. I’ll set you free, if that’s what you need. I want you to be mine, but only if being with me lets you soar. I want you to choose me, not be forced. I want to get to know you. To take the time you need. To date you proper, so that we’re not two strangers. You asked for slow, before you left. I heard you. I’ll give you whatever you truly need. You just have to tell me what that is.”
Gage’s eyes burn into mine, searing me, freezing me in place on the couch. He’s on his knees in front of me, so open and so vulnerable, soeverything, not at all like a conqueror, but every bit the warrior he is, because he knows where strength actually comes from. He’s giving me the choice. I’m not his captive. I’m not his burden. If I don’t want to be, I don’t have to be his anything.
A few days ago, I would have leapt at the chance to leave him behind. To add him to another list of things I never wantedto think about again and bury him in the past in that dark place inside myself that I kept locked away for so long.
Now… now he’s shown me the sun, and I don’t want to go back to the darkness.
He risked his freedom to win mine.
Even if he was just freeing me from my own demons.
I finally tear my eyes away and force them back down to the stack of pages that rests just below our joined hands. I’m a mess. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. I’m a mess in every way, in every sense of the word, and it’s only going to get worse. We’ve both been trapped in this situation of someone else’s making for too long. I’ve spent so many years hiding. He shouldn’t have gone behind my back and did what he did. But for the first time since I was sixteen, I realize something.
I’m free.
But maybe I’m not the only one who needs to be set free so they can start fresh?
Slowly, like I’m walking on ice about to crack and plunge me into the frigid waters below, I pull my hand from Gage’s. I force myself to take those papers and hold them out. My hand trembles again, the papers rattling like there’s a gust of wind in the room.
I swallow hard and force what little strength I have left to be in my voice. My eyes. My face. My heart. My soul “You’ll do whatever I ask you?”
Gage rocks back on his heels like I’ve just dealt him a death blow. “Whatever you ask,” he confirms, his voice like steel right before it’s about to melt, about to change form forever.
I extend my arm slowly, until the pages rest in his hand.
“Then I want you to sign these.”
Chapter 24
Gage
My whole fucking chest caves in. For a second, I can’t breathe or think. I can’t do a damn thing but stare at the papers she’s just put in my hand like they’re a knife and she’s asking me to turn the blade into myself. I thought we’d moved past this. I thought we’d finally made a connection and got over all the shit between us.
Sign these.
I heard her. I know I heard her. I just don’t understand how we got here. I was on my knees in front of her. Still am. Like some bastard begging at an altar he has no right approaching. Her hand was just in mine. Her tears are still on her face. Her breath is still catching in her chest. She looked at me like maybe she finally understood.
I told her I’d do whatever she asked, and I meant every damn word. That’s the worst fucking part. I meant it before I knew the ask would gut me.
My fingers curl around the stack of papers. The edges bite into my palm. Good. I need the pain. I need something sharp and real to keep me from doing the thing every selfish part of me wants to do.
Refuse.
