Love Me Like I Love You

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Love Me Like I Love You Page 183

by Willow Winters


  I packed the box back up and stood. “Was it a good package?” Mom asked with unfiltered hope in her eyes.

  “Yes, it was perfect.”

  “Don’t let that one get away, dear,” she said and walked away.

  I wouldn’t. I’d hold on to him forever.

  I knocked on the door again. Carol hadn’t answered the first time, but she knew we were stopping by after I picked up Tuck from school. Tuck peeked through one of the windows.

  “I see her,” Tuck said. I knocked again and he tapped against the glass. “She’s coming.”

  Carol opened the door. She looked haggard, tired down to the bone. There were dark purple bags under her eyes, and her skin was sallow. Her hair was knotted near the roots and hanging limply. A stain was smeared across her top, and I wondered when she’d last showered or changed. “Carol, are you alright?”

  “Fine, fine,” she said and ushered us inside, looking out to the street as she closed the door behind us. Tuck tilted his head staring at her.

  “We brought you an apple pie. Want a slice? Pie always makes me feel better,” Tuck said, grabbing her hand and guiding her to the kitchen. I placed the pie on the kitchen table and went to the cabinets to grab three plates. I took some silverware off the drying rack and went back to the table.

  “Oops! A knife.”

  I popped back up, grabbed the knife, and returned to the table, and I started to make a cut. Carol got up from her seat, grabbing the roots of her hair and making frustrated noises. I paused and looked at her. Color was rising in her cheeks, and her eyes were screwed shut.

  “You’re always forgetting things. It’s why you don’t deserve him. You’re not the mother I was.” I had no idea what she was talking about. I never forgot anything.

  I slowly put the knife on the table. “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t deserve Tucker. That boy certainly doesn’t deserve him either.”

  “Carol, what are you talking about? Are you okay?” I asked. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped a quick message to Gunner.

  Something is wrong with Carol.

  “I miss Declan,” Carol said. “I was the best mother. I was nothing like you. How could you bring Gunner into your son’s life? You’re no mother at all. He has to pay. He has to.”

  I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but we needed to leave. I couldn’t imagine the pain she felt over losing her son, but I didn’t want Tuck to hear any of this. “Tucker, let’s go.”

  I reached out, grabbing Tucker’s hand, and started to rise from the table.

  “No!” Carol shouted. As something hard hit the back of my head and my whole world went black, I pictured Gunner and Tucker.

  Chapter 40

  Gunner

  I drove up the long, winding driveway lined with towering oak trees. The branches broke off like veins and met in the sky over the driveway, creating a mosaic of lights and shadows. Based on the driveway alone, I was already impressed and liked it more than the other four houses I’d seen that day.

  I’d told the realtor my number one priority was the view. If I didn’t like the house, or Delilah didn’t like it, then I could level it and build a new one. The first house the realtor had taken me to had a view of a manure plant. That wasn’t exactly on my list of picturesque scenery. One look and smell of that place and I left, demanding the next address on the list. The next was okay, but it wasn’t the one. The third was too small. The fourth was almost as bad as the first.

  Delilah was on my mind with each house. I knew she’d live there with me one day. I’d prefer sooner rather than later. I wanted to come home from Spring Training to a house with her in it.

  I hope she liked her package.

  I batted away those thoughts and focused on what was in front of me. Another house to look at.

  The driveway split; one path led to the house, and the other led farther back on the property. There was enough space to build a baseball field for Tuck. The house was a large sprawling one-story made of white stone. The black double front doors were half glass, and the lights inside the house made them look like they were shining.

  I parked and stepped out of the car. There was a porch swing at the front, and I smiled. A picture of us formed in my mind, wrapped up in each other late at night after Tucker went to bed.

  “What do you think?” Lindsay, the realtor, asked.

  “Should’ve taken me here first.” I didn’t take my eyes off the house. There was one true test though. The view. If the view around the property wasn’t great, it was onto the next one. I didn’t want to get caught up in just the house.

  Delilah fell in love with views.

  “I had to make you see what a gem this property was by showing you crap first.”

  “That was a waste of time,” I muttered and walked around to the back. I unlatched the gate in the low wooden fence and walked through.

  A large infinity pool overlooked the deep lake in the canyon hills below. The sun glared off of the water, coloring the rocky hills red. I looked at the field surrounding the house. I could build the baseball field, a separate gym, and even a guest house.

  “Let’s go inside,” I said. I walked back to the front, and Lindsay used the keypad to open the door. The floors were a light gray wood, and even with the large size, it felt comfy. The living room had high ceilings and enough space for a large sectional sofa and TV.

  The kitchen had two islands, both large. One was white marble like the rest of the kitchen, and the other was made of wood. Delilah would love this kitchen. She belonged here, cooking her favorite recipes. I wanted this for her, and I wanted to fill the house with more kids.

  My phone vibrated and I pulled it out of my pocket. I smiled at Delilah’s name. It was fucking perfect that I’d been standing here in this kitchen, a space she’d love, when I heard from her for the first time.

  Delilah: There’s something wrong with Carol.

  Chapter 41

  Delilah

  Soft whimpering broke through the blackness. My arms ached. My head was pounding as if a thousand elephants were having a dance party. I tried to lift one of my hands but couldn’t. Slowly the scene returned to me. Carol’s manic rambling, my trying to leave, and then a hard pound on the head.

  Tuck.

  My tired, heavy eyes flew open, frantically looking around.

  “No,” I cried. Tuck was still at his spot at the table, but he was bound to the chair and had a red bandanna stuffed into his mouth. His bloodshot eyes shifted back and forth. He looked terrified.

  “It’s going to be okay, Tuck,” I whispered, looking around for Carol. She wasn’t in the kitchen or at the table. Her footsteps were sounding throughout the house, but I couldn’t place where she was. I was bound to my chair, but she’d left my mouth free.

  I wiggled against the restraints, trying to free myself, but they were tight and my skin was quickly turning raw. I pulled and strained, using all the force I had. Sweat broke across my brow as I struggled to undo the binds.

  I closed my eyes and breathed for a second, thinking through my options. I opened my eyes and looked around the room, peeking over my shoulder to see if I could back the chair up and saw at the ropes binding me.

  There was nothing.

  I could scream, but if someone didn’t come quickly enough, Carol would surely hear me. I scanned the room again and froze. On the counter behind Tucker was a gun. It was old and small, but it was still a gun. And surely it could still hit its mark and cause damage.

  I made eye contact with Tucker again. “It’s going to be okay, honey.” I gave him the best smile I could muster and kept wiggling against the restraints, holding in every wince as my skin burned against the ropes. I had to get out of here and save Tuck.

  Carol’s footsteps were getting louder. I looked at Tuck mouthing, I love you and continued to wiggle faster, but I wasn’t gaining even a sliver of reprieve from the rope.

  Had this woman been in the frickin’ Navy or something? How di
d she learn to tie ropes like this?

  Tuck’s eyes widened as Carol came up behind me, wrenching my head back by my hair. Her eyes were wild, and the sweet woman I’d come to know over the years wasn’t there.

  “Why couldn’t you make it easy and die?” she asked.

  She left me and walked straight to the gun. My entire body locked, every muscle becoming tense. I only prayed that she would shoot me and leave Tuck alone.

  “Let Tuck go,” I said. “I’ll stay here. Just let him go.”

  “No,” she said, spinning and facing me. She scratched the side of her head with the hand that held the gun. Tears were welling in her eyes as she spread her arms wide. “Can’t you see? It has to be both of you.”

  She waved the gun between the two of us. If I could keep her talking for long enough, I would form a plan. I would get Tucker out of here. I only had to keep her talking while I figured out what the fuck that plan was.

  “Why does it have to be both of us?”

  “He has to pay.”

  Her fist slammed down on the counter, and she released a guttural and feral scream of rage, a sound so broken and painful I flinched. Tucker’s eyes were full of tears as he looked back and forth. He tried to talk around the bandanna, but it didn’t work. I shook my head, begging him to stay quiet. I wanted her to do the impossible and forget that he was even in the room.

  “Who has to pay?” I asked.

  “Gunner Gentry,” she spat his name out of her mouth. “It should’ve been him that died that night. He should have died, not my boy. Not my son!” she screamed.

  “That night was a horrible accident,” I said. “It wasn’t Gunner’s fault. He’s carried that guilt for years, but it wasn’t his fault.” My eyes went to the window. Maybe a neighbor would hear and call the cops. That was a mistake though.

  Carol belly laughed, doubling over and holding her stomach as she cackled, and stood upright again. She wiped away a tear. “The house next door is empty. My other neighbor is out of town. No one is calling the police.”

  I pursed my lips but didn’t respond. I’d texted Gunner. At this point, I only hoped he saw it. I should’ve said more in the message. I should’ve said I love you.

  My eyes burned. I bit my tongue, holding back my tears. I wanted to look at Tuck, but I needed Carol’s attention to stay on me and only me.

  “Gunner didn’t want Declan to die. Declan was his brother.”

  Carol clocked me with the butt of the gun. Tucker yelled around the muzzle and wiggled frantically.

  “I’m okay,” I assured him. I couldn’t stop the tears from forming, and I felt warm blood coating my temple and making a slow trek down my cheek to my neck.

  Carol’s wrath turned on Tucker and I screamed. “Stay away from him, bitch. If you touch him, I’ll kill you. I will fucking end you if you touch him.”

  Carol laughed and stuffed the bandanna so far into Tuck’s mouth I feared he’d choke on it. “Stop it! Stop it!” I yelled over and over. I wiggled so hard my chair tipped over. I inched across the floor and bit Carol’s ankle. She kicked my face.

  But finally, finally, her attention was away from Tucker.

  Carol stomped on my stomach before heaving me up to a sitting position. I stared at Tucker. His eyes were bloodshot and he was shaking, but he was breathing. He was breathing. I closed my eyes. He is breathing, I reminded myself again.

  “Why couldn’t you make this easy?” Carol asked. “You should’ve died in the fire. Tucker wouldn’t have felt pain, I made sure he’d sleep through it. I wanted Gunner to hear you scream though, so I took out the batteries from the fire alarms so by the time he saw the blaze, it’d be too late. There was a risk that he might stay with you that night, since you’re a whore, but it would’ve been okay if he died too. I wanted him to feel pain. Why couldn’t you stick to the plan?”

  “You tried to take my family from me?” I whipped my head around. Gunner was coming through the door with a fierce scowl on his face. Carol raised the gun, pointing it at him, but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop when he was threatened. He only stopped when Carol turned the gun and pointed it at my head.

  Chapter 42

  Gunner

  “You tried to take my family from me?” I asked again, but I didn’t dare step forward. My gaze kept flicking to the shaking finger hovering over the trigger. One wrong move, one shiver up the spine, and Ms. Young would be sending a bullet through Delilah’s skull.

  I’d tried to call Delilah after that message to see what she meant, but she hadn’t answered, so I’d tried Ms. Young. She hadn’t answered either. When I arrived and heard Ms. Young’s raised voice, but couldn’t hear her words, I edged around the side of the house and looked through the back window.

  I’d never expected Delilah and Tucker to be tied to chairs. The bandanna in Tuck’s mouth and the blood freely flowing from Delilah’s temple sent me into a rage I’d never experienced before. I fired off a text to Colt and hoped he checked his phone and sent in the cavalry. I checked the back-porch lantern for the key that used to be hidden there. It still was and I slipped inside unnoticed.

  “You took mine from me,” Ms. Young screamed.

  I wanted to flinch. It was what had been playing in my mind for years. Every fucking day over the last ten years, I had convinced myself Declan was dead because of me.

  “No, I didn’t. Declan saved me and it cost him his life. I’ll never be able to repay that, and I wish I had done it for him. I would’ve done it for him. But I didn’t kill him. We were stupid kids that thought we could build a bonfire. We didn’t know it would collapse or that the dry grass would act as kindling, setting the entire field on fire in seconds. It wasn’t my fault. I’d do anything to still have Declan here.”

  “You took everything from me. I’m taking it from you!”

  She jammed the barrel of the gun against Delilah’s bloody temple. Delilah winced but stayed still. I released a shaking breath as rage and fear consumed me. I shook my head.

  “You started the fire.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “You weren’t supposed to go in and save them. Why didn’t you save Declan? Why save them?”

  “I would’ve saved him if I could. Delilah and Tucker are my family.”

  “Why do you have to take everything from me?” She shouted and pushed the gun into Delilah’s wound again. “I was fine before you came back. And then you were with Delilah. I was happy delivering food to that kitchen, but not after you. You were everywhere. You had to pay. You HAD TO! I wanted you to hear Delilah’s screams as she died in the fire. I wanted to take the boy you considered a son from you, just as you took mine from me. Do you even know what today is?”

  I did. There were a few dates burned into my memory, and this was one of them. “Declan’s birthday.”

  “He should be here. He should have the pretty girlfriend and son. He should be playing baseball. Instead, you took it all! You took it all!”

  She shouted and waved the gun. This was my moment, and I wasn’t sure if I would get another one. I ran toward her, lowering my body for a tackle. Everything was fast and in slow motion all at one time. I was hyper-focused on my target. Her eyes widened and she tried to point the gun at me, but she was too late.

  I tackled her to the floor and heard the wail of a siren in the distance. Was it Colt? Or just a fucking coincidence?

  The gun was between us as I tried to restrain her arms. It went off between us, both of our eyes widened as we made eye contact, and all I could feel was the blood.

  Delilah screamed and Tuck was yelling around his muzzle. I sat up, unharmed, staring down at the bullet hole in Ms. Young’s stomach. The gun was still in her hand with her finger on the trigger. I leaned over and batted it away before applying pressure to the wound.

  “Not like this,” I hissed. “He wouldn’t want you to go like this. He’d never forgive you for what you’ve done.”

  Tears streamed down her face. “
I want my boy back.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I wish he were here every day, but killing my family wouldn’t have brought him back.”

  Chapter 43

  Delilah

  It was weird coming back to the cabin after the day we’d had. I had four stitches on my temple. Tucker and Gunner were unharmed. We’d all been at death’s door together but were walking away with barely a scratch. Carol had survived surgery and would be recovering in a prison infirmary awaiting her trial, according to Colt. He said she would be going away for a long time.

  I couldn’t think of that now or process what we’d been through in only a couple of hours. The minutes had dragged like days as we answered questions. Colt had suggested we could do it tomorrow, but I wanted it done. I wanted Tuck to wake up to a new day tomorrow with this behind him and not drag it out.

  Gunner carried Tuck inside the cabin and back to his room. He’d passed out in the car on the way home from the hospital, and I hoped he was so worn out that he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow. He’d been through so much recently—and there would be so much to process with him—but I would be helping him through it with Gunner at my side.

  If he’d have me.

  I wanted to bash my head. I never should’ve walked away in the first place. But I’d never walk away again. Gunner would have to fight hard to get rid of me.

  Gunner walked out of Tuck’s room and stood before me in the hallway. He shoved his hands in his pockets and met my gaze. “If I don’t keep my hands in my pockets, I’ll touch you and hold you. I know I held you today, but it might’ve been because of what was happening.”

  “It wasn’t,” I said and stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him. “Let’s go to bed.”

 

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