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“Parker or your career?”
“This isn’t about me, or Mila.” I responded. Everyone felt involved, and I was losing control.
Adjusting the sleeve of my suit, I fought how tight it suddenly felt along my shoulders. Alex glared at me, and Gemma seemed to be positively annoyed, her voice pitched higher than normal.
“Don’t sit there and act like it isn’t. You pretend to be honest, and worse, pretend this is for Gemma,” Alex commanded silence. “This has been about you, and only you.”
I clenched the arms of my chair.
About me?
How the fuck would you even know what this was about?
Did you carry Gemma home when she fell off a bike, or for that matter, teach her how to ride one afterwards, because her father never did? Or did you give her your dessert each day at school, picking Star Crunch at the store—even though you loved Twinkies—just so that she could actually enjoy something other than the sandwich you brought her?
I did, and not just as a boy, but as a man. Cause it was never just about giving up my jacket to keep her warm or waiting forty minutes in a cold Manhattan morning to pick up her favorite bagel. It’s about her, not about me. It’s four drops of honey, and everything else that I cherish about her…. Everything I do is to protect her, because I’m so fucking helplessly in love with her.
I bit my tongue from saying all of that. Now wasn’t the time, and I owed her a hell of a lot more than bringing that shitstorm in front of everyone to judge, yet I couldn’t help but feel entirely defensive.
“How could you ever truly know Gemma?” I shouted.
“How could I? How could you not by now?”
“Stop. I’ve always been there for her. How have you ever done that?”
Alex tsked his tongue, annoying me with his disapproval. For a moment, there was nothing else, no crowds, no fireplace, no dark marble pillars or ground to stand on. Just us and the pulled hammer of our pistoled words.
“Please, where were you the night she waited for you at the play and you stood her up? You didn’t see her all alone like I did. I was there, not you, asshole. So you can cut the shit on pretending to be reliable.”
His brutal answer caused me to spit out, immediately coping with the pain in my chest. I shouldn’t have shouted, but I did, unable to think of an adequate response. “Reliable like your police record?”
Alex laughed at me. “Is that all you have? This is supposed to be about Gemma and what is best for her. Do you think she enjoys this? I know damn well she isn’t appreciative of your tone and that your yelling actually hurts her. Instead of telling her that you care, start listening… because that’s what I do, and I won’t stop till I know everything about her.”
“I do listen to Gemma. And me being here doesn’t take away the fact that she is free to do whatever she wants.”
“Prove it.” Alex turned to her, “Gemma, let’s go.” He stood up.
Immediately, all my goals and intentions collapsed into a single defining moment of Alex calling my bluff, testing me to the point where I knew I could never turn back. He reached for Gemma’s hand, and before she could even react, I fucking panicked.
“No,” I said through my teeth, snatching his wrist, yanking it into the air. My entire life with Gemma flashed before my eyes, abruptly and upsettingly, ending itself like an old movie whose film began to sputter into a hot, white mess. I couldn’t believe it, unable to stop myself from growling, from bleeding out the most honest threat I’d ever made. “Touch her again,” I said, “and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Chapter8
Gemma
“Parker… what the hell are you doing?” I scolded so viciously, stunned by the relentless hold he had on Alejandro’s wrist. Camilla covered her mouth, her stare a frantic urge for me to step in. I couldn’t, and the thought of moving made me feel fragile, as if one look from either man could obliterate me.
“You really doing this in front of Gemma? You’re not fooling anyone. This isn’t about protecting her,” Alejandro said.
“Think whatever you want, but Gemma believes you’re a good person, and I know that’s not true. If you want to prove her right, then do it.” Parker’s hold on Alejandro tightened even harder, and I feared he was dangerously close to saying something I wasn’t prepared to hear.
“Prove her right? How about you prove you’re not just her friend. Look at you. You’re a mess and all I see is fear—” Alejandro’s bark caused an unintentional squirm in my belly, as he balled his fist.
“No.” Parker blurted out. “I’m what I need to be, the fucking man who’ll expose Gemma to the truth about what happened at The Pierre Hotel.” He responded so abruptly I nearly missed the end of Alejandro’s words.
The immediate mention of The Pierre Hotel made me feel ill, as if each word was laced with a contagious sense of uneasiness. I traced my hands down my neck, soothing the tightness I felt, stifled by the eyes of the entire bar.
I was slowly suffocating.
