The Cleaner
Page 10
His mother sat in her worn, green wingback chair. She frowned at him as he walked past her. “Is that how you enter my house?” she snapped at him angrily.
“Sorry,” he said, barely casting a look her way. He stomped down the hall, slamming his bedroom door and grabbing a bag from his closet.
His bedroom door swung open a moment later and Gia stood there. Her cheek bore a long, purple bruise. “Gunner?” she asked, tears in her dark eyes. “Where are you going?”
He shoved the measly contents of his drawers into the bag. “What happened to you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“I’m fine,” she dismissed him, her hand moving to her cheek for a second. “Where were you last night? Gavin never came home either.” He didn’t stop moving, filling his bag with anything he could grab. When she realized he wasn’t going to answer, she went on. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
He nodded, looking at her finally. “It’s time.”
“Take me with you,” she begged, more tears suddenly in her eyes.
He stopped then, approaching her and brushing a thumb over her bruised cheek. “I’m sorry, Gia, I can’t.”
“You can’t leave us,” she cried, panic filling her voice.
“I can’t stay here anymore. I’m sorry. I know I promised you...but I can’t. And I can’t take you with me. You have school. I can’t take care of you.” He shook his head, stepping back and stuffing a few remaining things into the duffel bag.
“It’ll get worse,” she pleaded with him. “It’ll all get worse without you here, Gun. You protect us. We’re safe as long as you’re here.”
He slammed a drawer shut. “Safe? Gia, look at you. I’m not protecting you from anything. The only way I know to protect you is to go to the police. Do you want to do that? ‘Cause I’ll take you right now.”
She lowered her head. “You know I can’t.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? I’m not going to keep sitting around waiting for him to kill one of you.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing.” He heard the weight in her voice as she said it. It wasn’t something that had slipped off of her tongue in the heat of the moment, but rather something she’d put thought into.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’d rather die than keep living this way.” Her voice was firm, her eyes swimming with tears.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I’m a prisoner, Gunner. Of course I do.”
“You only have another year and you’ll be free. Just one more year.”
“Don’t you see how screwed up we are? We will never be free.”
“Gia, please don’t talk like that. After you graduate, I’ll be settled somewhere. Then you can come with me. I’ll keep you safe.”
“And Gavin?” she asked, her eyes filled with hope.
“Gavin can take care of himself,” he said through gritted teeth.
“He’s in as much danger as I am.”
“Gavin would protect himself if it came down to it. He’d choose himself over you. Don’t let him fool you.”
“He’s our brother,” she said under her breath, taking obvious offence to his words.
“He’s a self righteous, selfish prick, Gia. Open your eyes,” he yelled, anger bubbling over.
“Don’t you yell at me,” she snapped. “If you weren’t so quick to judge him, maybe the two of you could get along. He’s not so bad, Gun.”
He huffed. “Fat chance.”
“You guys let your big heads get in the way. You’re brothers. And you need each other. But neither of you can see that.”
“We don’t,” he said sharply, “we’ve never needed each other. And we never will. I don’t have time to have this argument with you again.”
“Please don’t do this, Gunner. I need you.” She pressed her hands together, as if in prayer, begging him to stay.
He rubbed his chin in frustration. “Fine. Pack a bag. Necessities only. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
She shook her head, her eyes haunted. “I can’t.”
“What? You just said that’s what you wanted.”
“Not without him.”
“You’re choosing him?” he asked, pain filling his chest at her betrayal.
She nodded firmly. “I will always choose him. He’s my brother.”
“I thought I was too,” he said, hurt in his voice as he stormed out of the room.
“Gunner, wait!” she yelled, chasing him through the house. “Please!”
Misty appeared in front of them, a frown on her wrinkled face. “What do you two think you’re doing? What’s with all the yelling? You’re going to wake your daddy.”
“I’m leaving, momma,” Gunner told her, his voice low.
“Leaving? What do you mean?”
“I’m out. Done. This is goodbye.”
“Quit being dramatic. What’s going on?” his mother asked, confusion on her face.
He took hold of her bony, frail shoulders and hugged her tight. “I’m leaving Dale,” he said, “and I won’t ever be back.”
“You can’t leave us,” she said, her eyes wild with fear.
Behind them, Gia’s sobs could be heard. “Please Gunner,” she begged.
“He’ll kill us all,” his mother warned. “If you leave, we’re as good as dead.”
“Then come with me. We’ll leave right now. By the time he notices, we’ll be long gone.”
“No,” she silenced him, her voice quiet. “It won’t work, Gun. Not like this.”
“I won’t stay another night in this town. Come with me or not, either way I’m leaving right now.”
He waited for them to respond and when neither did, he hugged them both at once, a sob burning in the back of his throat. “I’ll do whatever I can to take care of you, I promise,” he said, though he wasn’t sure how he could promise such a thing. “But I have to go.”
“I love you,” Gia said, kissing his cheek. “I understand,”she whispered in his ear, “and I forgive you. This isn’t your fault.”
When she pulled away, she was broken, her eyes as empty as if he’d killed her himself. He took her face in his hands. “I’m going to take care of you. I promise I’ll be back for you,” he said, kissing her head.
* * *
Gunner walked out of the bedroom, his hair had been brushed and styled for the first time in months. He wore an old button down shirt and the only jeans he owned without permanent stains. He tried to hide the excitement he felt—the foolish hope he’d sworn not to have.
“You look nice, Gun,” his mom said, looking him over.
“Thanks.”
“Will you be home tonight? Or should I not expect you?”
“I’ll be home,” he assured her. “It’s just dinner.”
She smiled slyly. “Well, I won’t wait up.”
He shrugged. “Have you seen my shoes?”
She pointed to the door. “Where you left them.”
“Oh,” he said, grabbing the worn boots and pulling them onto his feet.
“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” she asked, just as he was exiting the house. He stepped back in, shutting the screened door.
“Not yet, why do you ask?”
“I go visit their graves on Wednesdays. I thought maybe you’d like to go with me.”
He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. “Not particularly, no,” he told her.
“Gunner—”
“Let it go, mom,” he warned.
“I know you don’t—”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know. I don’t want to go, mom. Why can’t you just accept that?”
“I don’t understand how you can be so heartless. You need to go. You didn’t even come home for the funeral.”
“You know why I didn’t.”
“They’re your brother and sister, Gunner. You owe them more than this.”
“I owe them nothing,” he spat. “I don’t have to go to their graves to grieve them.
Everything I ever did was to protect them.”
“Until it wasn’t.”
“Don’t put that on me,” his voice filled with venom.
She put her hands up in defeat. “I said I wasn’t going to do this. I told myself if you ever decided to come home, I wasn’t going to bring them up. I didn’t want to upset you. But—”
“But you did anyway,” he said angrily, walking out the door without another word. He climbed into the car, rage pulsing through him and drove to her house. Her parents’ house, he reminded himself. The moment was filled with dèjá vu; he’d pulled up to this very spot so many times before, walked up to that same front door, waiting for the girl inside.
This time, when he knocked, the girl who answered was a miniature version of Reagan—the only difference being her jet black hair. Gunner’s hair.
“Hello,” she said, smiling politely. “Are you here to see my mom?”
He bent down so that he was eye level with her. “Yes, I am. You must be Nora.” My Nora. My daughter, Nora. The girl was undeniably beautiful. Her ivory skin the perfect compliment to her dark hair, freckles, and sea-green eyes.
“Yes, sir. You must be Gunner. My mom isn’t ready yet.”
Just then, as if on cue, a frazzled Reagan appeared from behind her. “Nora,” she scolded, “what have I told you about answering the door?”
“But I knew it was your friend,” the girl argued.
“It doesn’t matter,” Reagan said. “Remember the rules. Now, go back in the kitchen with grandma and let mommy talk for a moment.”
“Fine.” The girl pouted but obeyed, walking from the room.
“Goodbye, Nora,” Gunner called after her, sad to see her go. Once she was out of sight, he looked up at Reagan. “You ready to go?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Gunner. I’m going to have to cancel.”
“What? Why?” he asked, disappointment filling him.
Tears brimmed her eyes. “I have no one to watch Nora. My parents just got a call. The police are releasing her body to us so mom and dad are flying up to New York tonight.”
She was nearing her breaking point, it was all over her face. “I’m so sorry, Rae,” he told her honestly. “Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said, though her voice cracked as she said it.
“Well, you obviously aren’t.”
“I will be,” she said, reading his doubtful expression. “Gunner, I will be fine. I just can’t go out tonight. I’m sorry.”
“What if we stayed in? I could help you with Nora, maybe get to know her a little bit better. You shouldn’t be alone.”
She scowled. “I’m good at being alone, Gunner, I’ve had a lot of practice. You made sure of that.” Her words were sharp but as she spoke again they carried a different tone. “And besides, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“You said yourself we need to talk. For Nora’s sake if nothing else. I’ll even cook you both dinner if you want.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You cook?”
He smiled. “I am a macaroni and cheese aficionado.”
She pressed her lips together, her forehead wrinkling in deep thought. “Nora only knows that you’re my old friend. You can’t tell her anything else.”
“I won’t tell her anything until you’re ready.”
“Okay,” she said hesitantly. “But this is just so we can talk. For Nora.”
“For Nora,” he agreed.
“And if I change my mind, you’ll leave.”
“Of course,” he vowed.
“Nora!” she called over her shoulder. “Get your stuff, baby.” She held up a finger. “I’ll be out in just a second. We can go back to my house.”
He nodded. “Okay, sure. I’m going to run to the store and grab a few things.” She shut the door, leaving him standing on the doorstep alone.
“Mom doesn’t eat macaroni,” Nora informed him, eyeing the box as he sat it on the counter.
“Well, that’s just because she’s never tried mine.” He winked at her.
“She says it goes straight to her butt,” she said, letting out a giggle.
“Nora!” her mother said, her face flushing.
“Well, you do,” she insisted. “Hey, can I preheat the oven?” she changed the subject quickly, her eyes on Gunner. He looked to Reagan, awaiting a response though her question was directed to him. When she nodded, he handed Nora the bag of chicken nuggets. “Three-fifty,” he told her.
She hurried to the stove excitedly while Gunner grabbed a pot from the rack above the island. He filled it with water before handing it to Nora. “Can you sit this on the stove for me?”
Reagan walked to the fridge, grabbing a block of cheese and setting it down. “At least use real cheese, please, rather than that powdered poison.” She smiled at him, her tone soft, though he could tell it was important to her. She was so different than the girl who’d scarfed pizza rolls and beef jerky with him so many years ago.
“When did your mom become such a food snob?” he teased Nora, tossing the powdered cheese packet in the trash.
Nora shrugged. “Did you know my mom in school?”
“I sure did,” he told her, chopping up the cheese. She grabbed a baking sheet, placing the chicken nuggets on it carefully. From across the room, Reagan stared at the bag, a worried look on her face. She wanted to protest, he could tell, but she was remaining quiet.
“Don’t worry,” he teased her, “they’re organic, gluten-free, grass-fed, non-gmo, cage free, free range, and blessed by a gypsy spirit.”
Reagan couldn’t help but smile at him, though she turned away as he saw it.
“What was she like?” Nora asked.
“The chicken?” Gunner joked, poking a nugget. “I didn’t know her personally, but I’ve heard she was a real pain.”
Nora laughed, maybe a bit too loud. “No, I meant my mom when you were in school.”
“Oh.” Gunner feigned confusion. “She was…” He looked up, meeting her eyes, “Brilliant. Beautiful.” He tapped the girl’s nose. “Just like you. And smart. And funny. But, she had a stubborn streak.”
“She always says I’m stubborn too.”
“Well, you come by it naturally.”
“See,” Nora taunted her mother. “It’s your fault.” Reagan approached, taking the baking sheet and sliding it into the oven.
“I’ll take credit for that, ‘cause I get credit for a lot of great stuff about you too,” she said, kissing her daughter’s head.
“Did you know my dad too?” Nora asked.
“What?” Gunner asked, doing a double take at her words. He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth to buy some time, staring at Reagan.
“My dad. Mom said he went to school with her, so you probably knew him too, right?”
Reagan shook her head. “I don’t know if Gunner knew your dad or not, baby.”
“Mom says I have his smile,” she told him matter-of-factly.
“Well, I’m sure he was great.”
“I never met him,” she said. “He left when I was still in mom’s belly.”
“I’ll bet he wishes he could’ve met you,” he said, tears burning his eyes. He looked away, inhaling sharply.
“Yeah, maybe. Jesse says he was strange.”
“Jesse?” Gunner’s heart skipped a beat. “Who’s Jesse?”
“Mom’s fiance,” the girl answered simply, grabbing a piece of cheese for herself. “I think he’ll be my dad after they get married, right mom?” She smiled proudly.
Reagan nodded, though her eyes were on Gunner. “Hey, Nor, why don’t you go wash up for supper, okay?”
“Okay.” The girl disappeared down the hall, humming to herself.
Reagan looked to Gunner. “I didn’t want you to find out that way. I wasn’t hiding it...I just wanted to wait and tell you when we could really talk.”
He held up his hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Rae. You’re allo
wed to have a life. I would be lying if I said I’m surprised. I’m here for Nora, remember? I’m not delusional enough to believe we were just going to fall back into what we were.”
“I know, I just…I didn’t want you to find out from anyone else.”
“Well, I’m glad I know,” he lied.
“You are?”
“I’m glad you’re happy.” Well, at least that part was true.
“Thank you,” she said as Nora appeared back in the room and the macaroni began to boil over.
An hour later, Gunner was clearing the table. He carried a pile of dishes to the sink just as Reagan appeared from down the hall.
“She’s down for the night. Oh, you don’t have to clean those,” she told him as he threw a towel over his shoulder and flipped the faucet on.
“It’s no problem,” he assured her, adding a bit of soap to the water. She walked over to stand beside him, her back resting against the counter, watching him work. The water scalded his hands, though he could focus on nothing but her as he rolled his sleeves up and began scrubbing.
“You were good with her tonight,” she said, surprising him.
“I was?”
“Yeah. You impressed me.”
He shrugged. “She’s an awesome kid.”
“So,” she began, “elephant in the room.”
“Yeah?” Dread filled him immediately as he tried to read her expression.
“I mean, hi, how are you...haven’t seen you since you took my virginity and left town without a word.”
He frowned. “You know why I left, Reagan.”
“I know why you think you left.”
He turned off the water, shaking his head. “I couldn’t face you. I didn’t want to hate you.”
“Gunner, it wasn’t what you thought.”
“Really?” he asked harshly. “Because it sure as hell looked like—” he stopped himself. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
She touched his arm gently, his body on high alert. “You need to know the truth.”
He stepped back. “No. I don’t. I can’t. You deserved him, Rae. I always said you deserved a guy like Gavin. I just never thought you would actually fall for him. I was stupid enough to believe you really cared about me. I never thought you would sleep with my brother.” He felt his face growing more red by the minute.