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This vile man brainwashed her into believing he was invincible. Untouchable. But no man or monster is. They bleed the same.
“Gauge, if you go behind my back, I will leave,” she warns.
My stomach drops. Is she threatening to leave me if I pursue this?
Her grip tightens on my cut, shaking me. She looks so severe as she stares me dead in the eyes. “I mean it, Gauge. I don’t care that you used your investigative skills to find out who I was. But this man is a hard boundary. I’ll disappear if you try reaching out to any of them.”
What the actual fuck?!I remind myself this is her trauma talking. Still hurts hearing her say it.
“Opal, hiding will solve nothing,” Punk interjects. “You can’t blame Gauge for wanting the man dead. You’re his woman. His job is to protect you. He can’t do that when he doesn’t know who he’s protecting you from.”
“I don’t want Gauge to murder him. I don’t want that on his hands,” she cries helplessly. “That’s not the kind of man Gauge is. He’s good—nothing like my abuser.”
Instead of arguing, I take Opal’s terrified face in my hands. She stares up at me with beseeching eyes. “We won’t reach out to Shelly or the FBI.”
I won’t risk losing Opal over this. She trusts me, and it’s not worth putting her through all this again. I’ll find another way to handle the case.
Opal slumps against me, relief coming off of her like heat waves on asphalt. I help her to her feet and escort her back inside. No more hunting tonight. I need to comfort her.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
GAUGE
Iwas too hasty. Had I known what kind of setback investigating Opal’s past would cause her, I would’ve proceeded with more caution. My greed made me act without considering how this investigation would implicate her emotional state.
My actions triggered her, making her close off from everyone, including me. I feel like such a selfish prick. I’ve said as much to Opal every time I apologize for bringing it all back to her again.
Opal barely talked unless asked a direct question. She kept her head down, avoiding people at all costs. Hard to avoid our size crew when we live in a rental property no bigger than a shoebox, yet she managed okay enough. The guys were as enraged as I, knowing this creep was still hunting her. They gave her the breathing room she needed, but it was hard for them to stand by, seeing her suffer in silence.
The bunnies caught on fast that she was going through some heavy shit. Red was all over her like a mother hen, trying to extract answers. Ebony was the opposite, not pushing for answers, but constantly checking on Opal, giving her gentle back pats and smiles. Even Candy backed off from her typical snide remarks regarding our relationship, sensing this was not the time to kick Opal when she was down.
Opal is not a woman who can be rushed—she does things on her own time when she’s good and ready. No amount of consoling helped to speed her recovery along. She came out of her melancholy when it was suitable for her.
It took a week before Opal was back to her buoyant self, but that week was one of the hardest of my life—top five, at least.
I promised her repeatedly not to reach out to the FBI or her mother. It seemed like the only thing to help her come back to me. And that scares the fuck out of me. It means she mentally checked out on us, preparing to leave if I had contacted them.
Atlas and I had it out a few times, but I’m steadfast about not going over Opal’s head. My best friend understands brotherhood and family, but loving a woman who owns your heart and soul is alien to him. He can’t relate or understand there are some lines you don’t cross. He won’t understand that until he meets the one who will own him. Opal’s terror of the culprit is the only thing that stopped Atlas from pushing through the order, and he reluctantly agreed to hand the investigation over to me.
A couple of weeks have passed with Opal back to normal. I’ve been working a lot of recon jobs to stay closer to home. But it won’t last forever. Mercenary assignments will take me away from her for weeks, months at a crack. I’ve made her aware of this, and she’s prepared to go for long periods with no communication from me.
In the meantime, I’m spoiling this woman rotten with date nights and stolen moments.
Tonight was supposed to be just the two of us until Punk overheard we were going to see a romantic comedy. The dude is gaga over chick shit, though it’s not my bag. I only agreed to it because I knew Opal wanted to see it. The punk-ass somehow swindled Opal into inviting him to join us.
Here I wanted to steal some kisses in the dark and was cockblocked by Punk’s scrawny ass. The fucker even swiped my box of Sour Patch Kids, pissing me off even more.
Annoyed, I drive the three of us back to the house. Punk consumes all of Opal’s attention as the two of them discuss their favorite scenes. I pull into the driveway, parking the company Tahoe. I had grand plans to utilize the space in the back with Opal, a strategy that went up in smoke as soon as Punk tagged along.
“This was great,” Punk chirps, leaning in between our seats. “We need to do this again, maybe make it a thing the three of us do together routinely.”
The hell we will.
Opal brightens. “That’s such a great idea,” she agrees before looking at me, all excited. “Doesn’t that sound like a wonderful plan, Gauge?”
Like I can say no when she looks so damn happy. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“Awesome,” Punk says with a clap of his hands. Either he’s ignoring the edge in my voice, or he’s really dense. “I’ll pick the movie next time—”
