Forget Me Not

by K. S. Thomas

  “What the hell happened at this walk-through? Was the owner rude to you? Did they try to up the rent? What?”

  “Gun owns the house,” she blurts out, sounding frazzled and angry.

  “Excuse me?” How is that even possible?

  “It’s his house. He would be our landlord. I’m thinking neither of us want that,” she rants on.

  “What the hell? How? His name wasn’t on the lease, I would have recognized it.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. He doesn’t buy anything under his own name, he uses his investment company. I just assumed since it wasn’t listed, since we weren’t dealing with one of his agents...but it doesn’t matter. I should have read the lease, I would have seen it. It’s my fault, I was so excited and I knew I could trust your judgment, hell, you’re a freaking lawyer, most people would pay money to have you read a contract for them.” Frustration exits in the way of a loud hiss, blowing up my eardrum. “But that’s no excuse. I should have checked it myself. I’m sorry.”

  I lean back against the wall behind me, closing my eyes and massaging my temple with my free hand. How is this happening? We were so close. “Fine. Well, I guess we’ll just stay put for now. The loft is plenty big for the both of us. We’ll just...redecorate or something. Update a few things, fix the closets, it’ll be like a new place.”

  Silence.

  “Cooper?”

  “Gun owns the loft. Or, rather the building the loft is in.”

  Fuck me, how did a foster kid with no money and no education wind up owning half of the city when I can barely afford to rent a decent house there?!

  “Screw this shit,” I drop my fist to my side and swing it back, punching the wall. “I’ll ask my dad to lend me the money. I can pay him back as soon as my place in the city sells. We’ll buy a house. And Gun won’t have any part of it.”

  “No way. I’m not living in a house your dad bought!” she yells, hysterical at the mere suggestion.

  “It’s better than living in a place Gun bought,” I counter, shouting as well.

  “Hardly. At least Gun has never tried to split us up. You may not remember, but let me assure you, the same cannot be said for your father. He hates me. Always has. Hell, he’s the reason we were in your truck that night taking off to elope in the first place!”

  She’s right, I don’t remember. “You’re exaggerating. My dad may not be the warmest, most welcoming person, but he couldn’t possibly hate you. And Gun, are you fucking kidding me? How in the hell is trying to sabotage our moving in together not trying to separate us? Do you hear us right now? This fight happening right here? That’s compliments of your little friend Gun.”

  She scoffs. “Ego problems much? Gun towers over you by at least five inches. I would hardly call him little. And frankly, it only makes you sound petty and insecure when you do.”

  “Trust me, nothing about that dude makes me feel insecure.” I’m lying. Everything about that dude makes me feel insecure.

  “I think we both know that’s not true.”

  “Fine. Yes. He makes me insecure. How the hell would you feel if you were always face to face with my past. And not just any past, no, but a past that you can’t remember even being a part of? I get that he’s your friend. I do. But I don’t like feeling like he’s the one taking care of you. That’s supposed to be my job.”

  “Actually, taking care of me, is my job. And yeah, Gun likes to forget that too, but you should take note of the fact, that I generally don’t appreciate that.”

  Then she hangs up. Just like that.

  I barely have time to register it when I hear my father snap, “Care to tell me what was so important you thought it was appropriate to walk out in the middle of a meeting?”

  I shake my head, I really don’t care to tell him anything. But I know he won’t accept that.

  “The house Cooper and I were going to lease fell through and she’s upset. We both are.” I tuck the phone back into my pocket just to keep from having to meet his eyes. I love my dad, but he’s basically a master intimidator, it’s hard not to feel scrutinized by his glare.

  “Jesus, Reed. I thought you were past this – this juvenile behavior. You can’t go running every time your girlfriend has a meltdown.”

  “It’s not a meltdown. And she’s more than my girlfriend, I plan to marry her,” I remind him. “Now that I’ve found her, I’m not walking away from her again, Dad.” I take a wider stance in front of him and force myself to meet his eyes. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Not one I haven’t solved before,” he mutters, turning away and beginning a heavy-footed march back to his office.

  “What exactly does that mean?” I demand, catching up to his side in no time flat.

  He stops and looks over his shoulder at me. “That friend of hers still around? That Gunnar?”

  I slant my eyes. “How do you know Gun?”

  “Ask him. And while you’re at it, remind him that I don’t respond well to being cheated out of a deal. If I end up having to handle things myself, I may come back expecting a refund.” Then he stomps off to his office, door slamming shut behind him as soon as he’s inside.

  Cooper

  God, what is wrong with me?! This is Gun. Gun.

  And that’s what’s wrong with me. It’s him. And no matter how I twist and turn the conversation I have to have with him, I don’t see it ending well. Because, even in the best-case scenario, incidentally the most selfish version I’ve come up with, he tells me the house was a great investment and a matter of practicality rather than the romantic gesture Ed made it out to be. He’ll tell me all the years we’ve spent together were a means to an end. A love that grew from comfort and obligation. And then, I’ll be free. Because I’ll hate him. I’ll hate Gun.

  The click of the door handle pushing down and opening, catches my attention and I start walking to the foyer to meet him. I stop dead in my tracks the second I see him.

  His usually confident stature is hunched over, both arms hanging listless at his side. His skin is unnaturally grey and dull. Dark eyes are caved into their sockets and his usual five o’clock shadow looks a lot more like mountain man than rugged artist. In short, he looks like shit.

  “I’m here,” he grunts. “Wanna tell me what this is about now?”

  “You’re here,” I counter dryly, “so, you already know.”

  He releases a long, frustrated hiss of air. “You’re pissed about the house.”

  “No. I’m pissed you tricked me into picking this house after I told you we didn’t want to work with you. I’m pissed that you always try and control everything about my life and mostly, I’m pissed that you’re so fucking sneaky about it!” I rant, my voice reaching far and beyond any level of volume it’s ever achieved before.

  Then, it’s his turn. And. He. Blows. Up.

  “Sneaky? Are you fucking kidding me?” He gets in my face, arms up in the air, like he’s a fucking volcano erupting right in front of me. “I wasn’t sneaky about shit. All of my info was right there on that lease, which YOU signed! I didn’t trick anyone into anything. I had a house I was never going to live in, so I put it up for rent on a public fucking site. I didn’t hand deliver the listing to your boyfriend. I didn’t whisper the listing into his ear at night while he slept. I didn’t hold a gun to his head! Reed found it all on his own. Excuse me for knowing your boyfriend was so fucking predictable.” He turns away nearly as abruptly as he flew up to meet me at eye level before. “You think I manipulate you? I don’t. I’ve spent most of my life trying to do whatever I can to make you happy. I’m good at it. Not because I’m a raging control freak manipulating your life. Because I know you. I fucking see you. You want to punish me for getting too close to you over the years? For being able to give you what you want but not being the person you want it from? Done. You’ve got that. Want to hate me because I can’t stop? Because the guilt is killing you? Because you can’t fucking love me back? Do it. I don’t want you to feel trapped by this m
ess between us. I don’t want this to be the thing that stops you from being happy. Just do what you have to do to let go and get on with it.”

  “Stop it!” I scream. “Just stop!”

  His grey skin pales another shade. He shakes his head, mouth pressed firmly together, skin taut and flickering above is jaw. “Don’t you fucking get it yet?” he whispers, “I can’t.”

  “Why?” I demand. “Why can’t you do it? Why is it so important to see me happy? Because of that little girl in the closet? Well, fuck you! Guilt isn’t the same as love, Gunnar. You can’t spend the rest of your life trying to make up for what happened to me. It wasn’t your job to save me then, it’s definitely not your job to save me now. I knew how to survive long before you ever came along. I spent months in that shithole, months! And you know what I thought when I first saw you? Not, ‘Ooh, thank GOD - my HERO!’ No, I thought, ‘It’s okay. I’ve made it this long and I can take care of him, too’.”

  His pupils seem to take over as pitch black fills his eyes and he refuses to answer.

  I wait, silently forcing the seconds to stretch into minutes so I can claim my victory. A hollow, won by submission, victory. It won’t mean squat to me tomorrow, but it’ll help me walk out of here tonight.

  Just as I’m about to announce my exit, the door handle clicks again. And Reed walks in.

  “What’s going on? What are you doing here with him?” The accusation is hardly hidden in his tone. “You know what, never mind that. I’m actually glad you’re both here. Saves me the trouble of having to figure out how to track you down.” He points at Gun. And my stomach sinks down to my ankles. Gun and I going at it is one thing. Reed attacking Gun is another entirely.

  “Not that hard to find, man,” Gun sneers, “and I’ve got no reason to hide.”

  Reed smirks smugly. “That so? I think that might change when I tell Cooper what I found out today.”

  “What?” I feel like I’m caught at the center of a game of Keep Away standing here between them. I’ve always hated that game. “What are you talking about? What did you find out?” If he’s implying he’s uncovered some deep dark secret of Gun’s, he’s likely to be disappointed. Gun may not wear his emotions on his sleeve for the world to see, but he’s never been one to shy away from taking responsibility and owning his mistakes.

  Reed nods in Gun’s direction. “You want to tell her? Or should I?”

  Gun glares at him. “You sure you want to go there, Reed?”

  “After everything you’ve done to come between us? Hell, yes. I think it’s high time Cooper knows exactly the sort of friend you’ve been to her.”

  Panic begins to funnel at the pit of my stomach. I turn back to look at Gun, scared of what I’ll find. But as always, he’s dead calm in the face of this impending storm. “Cooper knows the sort of friend I’ve been. Trust me. The secrets I’ve kept, were never about protecting me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gun

  7 Years Earlier

  I walk in expecting to find Larry Lipton, my sad and pathetic excuse for a lawyer who hates me only slightly less than he loathes himself, and I stop short. Larry is as wide as he is tall, with more hair on his chin than on his head. This dude, this tall, broad shouldered dude with slicked back blond hair, is definitely not Larry. He’s also definitely not a public defender, since his suit looks like it costs more than I’m sure Sad Larry makes all year.

  “Who are you?” I ask, too desperate to snap off what may turn out to be a helping hand.

  “Reece McAllister,” he says, reaching out to pull a chair toward him and noticeably avoiding shaking my hand in a proper greeting.

  “You’re Reed’s father,” I conclude the obvious. “Did Cooper send you? Is she okay?” She must be. Reece McAllister is a big-time attorney. If he’s here to help me, she’s doing better. She’s pissed as fuck, but she’s fine. Physically.

  “No one sent me,” he snarls, his disdain for me suddenly becoming abundantly clear. “You and I, have something in common.”

  “We do?” Not from where I’m standing.

  “Yes. We do. We both have a problem only the other can fix.”

  I take a step toward the table he’s sitting at. “Come again?”

  “I was told you were smart. I’m counting on that, so I’m only going to explain this once.” He wipes the table clean with his palm before resting his arms on it, fingers together in a point. “I can get you out of here –“

  “How?”

  He ignores my outburst and carries on unmoved, “A few phone calls to the right people and your case is dismissed, you’re a free man. Freedom, I’m willing to acquire for you in exchange for your help with Jane Cooper.”

  “I’ll do anything for Coop.”

  “Good.” He looks up, meeting my eyes for the first time since he started his spiel. “Get her away from my son.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The accident nearly killed him. He needs time to recoup. Time with his family, not her. She has been nothing but dead weight dragging him down from the moment they met. She nearly destroyed his future once, I’m not about to sit by and watch her drain him of every bit of strength when he needs it to recover.”

  It’s all I can do to keep repeating his words in my head, ‘I can get you out of here’. He has the power to get me to Cooper. Cooper who needs me, now more than ever, and chances are, she doesn’t even know it. She needs me to get to her, not to punch this guy’s lights out. That’s what I need. That’s not what Cooper needs.

  “What do you want me to do?” I bite out through the simmering rage, hiding within.

  “I want you to come to the hospital and distract her. Keep her busy. Remind her that she needs to focus on herself. That she needs to let go of this silly notion that Reed will get better. That he’ll remember.”

  “Wait. What?” This is getting weirder by the minute.

  “Reed suffered severe brain trauma from the accident. He’s been left with complete amnesia. No memories remain from before the crash.” Reece McAllister sits up straighter. “He needs more care than she can give him. He needs us. And she needs you.” If he hadn’t said it with such a sneer, it might have almost sounded as though he was genuinely concerned for her.

  “She won’t want me. She’s in love with your son. That’s not something she can be ‘distracted’ from.”

  He snorts, as though I’ve said something funny. “It’ll be easier than you think.”

  “Why?” What the hell does he know that I don’t?

  “She’s been on so many pain meds since the accident she hardly ever knows what’s going on, but she knows she wants to see you. The only reason I even know your delinquent ass exists is because she won’t stop saying your name. Your name. Not Reed’s.”

  “Pain meds? Why is she still on pain meds? What happened to her in that accident?”

  He waves his hand, dismissing her physical state of being as if she’s no more important than a fly he’s swatting away from his coffee. “It’s nothing that won’t heal.” His expression shifts yet again. “I’ll pay you. One hundred grand. Cover her medical bills and get you two on your way.”

  “You want to pay me one hundred thousand dollars... to keep Cooper away from your son. That doesn’t seem a little extreme to you?”

  He leans back, dropping his hands from the table into his lap. “My son has a second chance at his future. One she never had any business being a part of in the first place. I’m not risking anything or anyone taking it away from him a second time. Least of all some little girl who got dumped in the foster system and bounced back and forth between group homes and juvy until she found a way to hook her claws into my son. Her free ride ends now.”

  The tension reaches from my toes to the top of my brows. The last time I wanted to hit someone so bad, I wound up here. I close my eyes and I nod, agreeing to the deal before I can do anything that would jeopardize my impending freedom. “Fine. You get me out of here, and I’ll take care of Coop
er.”

  Doesn’t mean I’m doing it for his reasons. I’ve got plenty of my own.

  Reed

  Present Day

  I’ve been on edge ever since my father’s comments about Gun. Took me all of twenty minutes of searching his secretary’s computer to figure out what the hell he was talking about. Then, feeling on edge went straight into leaping over it, ready to tackle everyone who’s ever tried to keep me from Cooper. Everyone who’s thought they had the right to fuck with my life.

  Now that I’m here, face to face with the man who thought he could steal my girl right out from under me, I’m back to internally climbing the walls by my fingernails. The last thing I want, is for Cooper to see me as petty or jealous. Exposing Gun has to be done with care and calculation. I can’t let him get to me.

  “You know, it’s been bugging me,” I say, in the most rational way possible, ”that you said we never knew each other. I mean, how is that possible? If you and Cooper have always been best friends, why didn’t our paths cross back then?”

  I watch Gun’s jaw grind back and forth. He’s uncomfortable. Good. He should be.

  “He stayed away for my sake, for us,” Cooper answers for him. “I wanted you guys to meet, to be friends, but Gun and Ed both thought it would scare you off, having them around. So, they backed off. Let us get to know each other on our own.”

  Shit. I’m off track already. “How noble,” I mutter, unable to contain my aggravation. “But what about after. When we were together. In love. Talking about marriage. What about then? Why stay away then?” I press on. I want him to tell her. I want him to be the bearer of bad news just once.

  “He was in Georgia.” Cooper is still speaking for him, protecting him. “He was there for an internship and wound up staying. Why does it matter? What did you think the reasons were?”

  “I don’t think,” I say, confidence growing again, “I know. Gun was in Georgia, but it wasn’t just for some internship. He was in prison.”

  She scowls at me. Maybe it really is impossible for her to see him for who he really is. I don’t know what the hell kind of hold he has over her, but I’m determined to break it and set her free once and for all.