Finding Gunnar

by Andria Large

Dawson bristles and shoots Gunnar a death glare. “I. Wasn’t. Talking. To. You. You scarred freak,” he snaps then moves to the side to look at Bowen. “I’m here because I want you back. I’ve given you enough time to pout, but now I’m done waiting.”

  Gunnar is rigid and Bowen can feel the anger wafting off of him. Scarred freak? Who the hell does he think he is?

  “Wow, really? You’ve given me enough time? Dawson, I broke up with you and never plan on gettin’ back with you. I’m done, too, but I’m done with you. Especially now that you insulted my boyfriend.”

  Dawson shakes his head in confusion. “What? No. I was letting you have a break.”

  “Um, no, you weren’t lettin’ me do anythin’. There is nothing between us. I want nothin’ to do with you.”

  Dawson jerks his chin back and blinks quickly. “How dare you speak to me that way, you little shit.”

  In an instant, Gunnar’s whole demeanor changes. It’s like he closed in on himself and shut off all emotion. His face is blank and his gaze is hard as stone. Something just happened, but Bowen has no idea what.

  “All right, I’ve had enough. You need to fuckin' leave,” Gunnar says, an odd edge to his tone.

  Dawson ignores him and glares at Bowen. “We’re not over. I will have you back.”

  “Fuck you. No, you won’t,” Gunnar snaps. “Now, get the fuck outta here before I fuck you up.”

  Dawson sputters for something else to say, but Gunnar isn’t having any of it. He gives him a decent shove, making Dawson stumble backward. When he regains his balance, he levels a livid glare at Gunnar.

  “Touch me again and I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

  “Bring it, motherfucker. I know the laws around here. You started this shit, but I'm gonna fuckin' end it.”

  Bowen closes his eyes and sighs. This is not going well.

  Dawson charges toward Gunnar and shoves him. Gunnar cocks his fist back and slams it into Dawson's cheek. Dawson drops to the ground and Gunnar moves, ready to start wailing on him. Bowen runs over and grabs Gunnar around the waist, hauling him back before he makes contact.

  “Stop. Both of you. Dawson, you need to leave. We’re not gettin' back together, so don’t bother comin' back.”

  Dawson gets to his feet, brushes his pants off, and opens his mouth to say something else, but Bowen holds his hand up to stop him.

  “There is nothin' that you can say to change my mind. Let it go. There is nothin' left between us.”

  After one last hard glare, Dawson storms off to his car and gets in, slamming the door behind him. He peels away from the curb, leaving smoke and black marks on the street as he speeds off.

  Gunnar turns around to face Bowen, and he immediately notices the troubled look on Gunnar's face. Gunnar brushes past him as he walks up the driveway toward the walkway that leads to the front door.

  “Is everything okay?” Bowen asks, coming up behind him.

  “Fine,” he says shortly.

  “You are not fine.”

  "That's fuckin' dickbag pissed me off."

  "Yeah, I know, but I feel like there is something else."

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “Gunnar, come on. It’s me. You know you can talk to me.”

  He shakes his head and presses his lips together. Just when Bowen thinks he isn’t going to say anything, he speaks up. “I remember my childhood. All of it,” he says, his voice tight.

  "What? You do? Did Dawson say something that triggered it?" Bowen asks.

  "Yeah, he did. It was the 'You little shit' comment. One of my foster dads used to call me that."

  “Is what you remember bad?”

  Bowen unlocks the front door so they can walk in.

  “Bad? I don’t even think that’s a sufficient word.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Let’s see…” he begins as he walks over and flops down onto the couch. “…I was locked in a closet every night when I was seven or eight. At ten, I was raped by my foster family’s teenage daughter. When I was twelve, I almost starved to death because my foster family didn’t want to buy extra food to feed me..."

  Bowen sighs heavily and lifts his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Shit."

  "Wait, it gets better. At thirteen, my newest foster family beat the ever-living shit out of me. And at fifteen, I was raped again, this time by the man who was my foster father at the time. So, yeah, it was horrific.”

  “Jesus,” Bowen hisses. He pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’m so sorry.”

  Gunnar shrugs. “Got the short end of the stick, I guess. Oh well, it’s done and over with now.”

  His nonchalance doesn’t sit well with Bowen. He feels like he’s holding back how he really feels about it and that’s never a healthy thing to do.

  “I think you should think about seeing a therapist."

  “Fuck no,” he barks, sending Bowen a hard stare, telling him to not speak another word about it. “The only thing I’m going to say about it is that I wish it had stayed forgotten.”

  Bowen rolls his lips in. He’s not going to force him to talk anymore about it if he doesn’t want to. That won’t help anything. Gunnar laces his fingers together in his lap and bows his head. Damn, Bowen’s heart hurts for him. He can’t imagine so much abuse in such a small amount of time, and from so many different people. It’s a wonder how he’s turned out as well as he has.

  Bowen gives him space for a while and goes upstairs, takes a quick shower, and gets dressed. After pulling on his clothes, he grabs his phone from the dresser and calls Griffin. Not only does he have to tell him about Dawson, but Gunnar is also going to need all the support he can get right now.

  “Hey man, how’s everythin’?” Griffin answers.

  “Not so great.” Bowen sighs. “Dawson was here when we pulled up. He and Gunnar got into it a little bit—“

  “Got into it how?” Griffin squawks.

  “Mostly verbally. Gunnar did give him a shove, and punched him in the face, but that was it. Dawson started it. I stopped it before it could go any further. I don’t know what happened that brought it on, but Gunnar remembers his childhood now.”

  “Fuck,” Griffin breathes. “How much does he remember?”

  “Everything.”

  “Oh God. Is he okay?”

  “I’m not so sure. Do you know what happened to him?” Bowen asks.

  “Not really. He’s been telling me what he’s been dreaming about, but that’s it. He never talked about his childhood. Not with anyone.”

  “Well, he just spilled it all to me. It’s bad, Griffin.”

  “Okay. Okay, don’t tell me anything. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me.” Griffin sighs heavily, and Bowen can tell that he’s upset. “What did Dawson want anyway?”

  Bowen scoffs. “He said that he gave me enough of a break and he’s tired of waiting and he wants me back.”

  “What an asshole.”

  “Basically.”

  “All right. Take care of Gunnar. I’ll talk to him later.”

  “Okay. Will do.”

  Bowen hangs up with Griffin after saying goodbye then makes his way downstairs where he finds Gunnar still sitting in the same position that he left him in, but now he has a glass of what looks like the scotch that's in his kitchen. He approaches him slowly, not wanting to scare him. Gunnar lifts his hazel eyes when Bowen stops in front of him. He gives him a bitter smile.

  “You probably think I’m too damaged for a relationship now, don’t you?”

  Bowen blinks at him in shock. “What? No. Absolutely not, Gunnar.” He sits down on the coffee table in front of him. “If anything, I can’t get over how strong you are. I mean, look at all you’ve survived. You were dealt a bad hand, yet here you are, alive and forging ahead.”

  Gunnar blows out a breath. “Yeah, I guess so.” He sips his drink.

  “You’ll get through this. You’ve got me, Griffin, and Eva to help you. You know this.” Bowen
places his hand on Gunnar’s knee and gives it a squeeze.

  “Thanks, Bowen.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leans forward and gives him a peck on the lips. “You ready to go to your house?”

  He gives Bowen a nod. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  They both stand at the same time and Gunnar wraps his arms around Bowen’s waist so he can tug him in close. He plants another kiss on Bowen’s lips, this time lingering a little while longer. When Gunnar pulls away, he gives him a soft smile and releases his hold. He downs his drink then takes the glass to the kitchen. When he returns, Bowen turns and heads for the door. Gunnar swats his ass. Bowen cocks an eyebrow at him over his shoulder, making him chuckle. Bowen’s glad he can still make him laugh after everything that just happened.

  Chapter Fifteen

  GUNNAR'S MIND won’t stop. It keeps replaying everything he remembered, no matter how much he doesn’t want to. He really wishes all this shit would have stayed forgotten. His head is so jumbled right now and he doesn’t know what to do with all this information. Plus, the phrase ‘scarred freak’ keeps swimming around in the front of his mind. He rubs his hand over his scar. He hates it.

  “Hey, we’re here.” Bowen says, breaking through his thoughts.

  Bowen’s watching him, some hesitation in his eyes, as if he’s not sure what to think about the situation. Gunnar doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t really know what to think about it either.

  Gunnar glances around to find they are sitting in his driveway. They get out of the car and go to the trunk where they each grab a suitcase. Once inside, Bowen helps him bring the suitcases up to his room.

  "Hey, I just remembered something from when we were together before," Gunnar says.

  "Oh yeah?" Bowen replies, excitement dancing in his eyes.

  "Bringing the bags up reminded me of the time we went to Las Vegas for the weekend."

  "Oh man, that was a fun trip." Bowen chuckles.

  Gunnar smiles softly. "Yeah, it was."

  His smile quickly fades as his previous thoughts take back over. Setting the bags by the end of the bed, he’s not bothering to unpack them now. He’s got too much shit on his mind. They make their way back downstairs and into the living room where Gunnar drops down onto the couch. Bowen follows, sitting down next to him.

  “What do you think about going to the grocery store? I’m sure your fridge is empty,” Bowen says softly.

  “Meh, I don’t really feel like it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I actually think I want to be alone for a while, if you don’t mind.” Gunnar winces, hoping that he’s not hurting Bowen’s feelings at all.

  “That’s fine. I’ll go home and work on my game,” Bowen replies lightly.

  “Really? You don’t mind?”

  He gives Gunnar a tender smile. “Of course not. If you need alone time, you can have it. I’m not tryin’ to smother you here.”

  “Thank you, Babe.” Gunnar sighs in relief. “I was afraid I was gonna upset you.”

  “No. It’s fine. Honestly.” He stands but bends over to give Gunnar a kiss on the lips. “Call me later.”

  “I will.”

  He gives Gunnar a loving smile and a wink before letting himself out. I know now why I was so in love with him before. He’s had strong feelings for him from the beginning. Remembering that little trip they took has him remembering how much he loved Bowen and how broken his heart was when they called it quits.

  Gunnar pulls out his cell phone and brings up Griffin’s number. He hits it and places the phone to his ear. Griffin picks up after the second ring.

  “Hey, Buddy. What’s up?” He chirps.

  “You got some time to chat?”

  “Sure, man, whatever you need.”

  "Ahh, well, ya know, I punched Bowen's ex today."

  "What?"

  "He was talking shit and I handled it," Gunnar says, shrugging to himself.

  "Was Bowen mad?"

  "Nah, I don't think so."

  "Well, that's good."

  “So, I remembered some things earlier. Things from my childhood.” He sighs. “The dreams I was havin’ really happened.”

  “Damn, G. I’m so sorry.”

  “It happened when Bowen’s ex was talkin’ shit to him. He said the phrase, ‘you little shit,’ and it all came rushing back to me. There was a family that used to beat me relentlessly and that’s what the father would always call me when I would try to get away from him, or fight back.”

  Griffin remains silent. There’s not much he can say to make the situation any better. He’s kinda glad he’s not offering words of sympathy because that’s not why he wanted to talk to him.

  “I also remembered why I didn’t tell you about all this stuff. It was because I was ashamed of it. I hated that it was my life, and I didn’t want it affecting our friendship in any way. I didn’t, and still don’t, want your pity. I just want you to be a shoulder I can lean on when I need to.”

  “And you got it, man. I’m here for you any time you need me, brother.”

  “Thanks, Griff.”

  “Are you doin’ okay though? Do you need me to come over? We can hang for a little while. Is Bowen still there?”

  “Nah, I need to be alone for a little while. Bowen went home a few minutes ago. I wanted to call you and let you know what happened.”

  “Well, I appreciate you lettin’ me know. If you need anythin’ else, you can call me.”

  “I know, Buddy. Thanks again.”

  “Anytime.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “All right, Gunnar. Later.”

  “Bye.”

  Gunnar hangs up and sets his phone down on the coffee table. He sits for a moment, mulling over everything, before deciding to go into the kitchen. Man, I need a fucking drink. He’s gotta have some kind of liquor in this house. He searches through a few cabinets before finding the one containing all the booze. There is a shit ton of stuff in there. Everything from vodka, to tequila, to whiskey and scotch. Gunnar goes for the whiskey. He finds a tumbler, puts a few ice cubes in it, and then fills it to the top with the amber-colored liquid. He goes back into the living room and sits on the couch in the same spot he had recently vacated. Taking a sip of his drink, he sighs as it warms his insides as it goes down. He wants to escape for a little while and forget all the shit that’s happened today.

  ***

  Gunnar wakes up the next morning, still sitting on the couch, the empty tumbler resting in his lap. He rubs his bleary eyes and glances around the living room. Shit. What time is it? He grabs his phone off the coffee table and hits the home button to bring the screen up. 12:45pm. Damn. He has a few missed calls from Bowen and one from Griffin. Guess he better call them back.

  He calls Bowen first. He picks up immediately. “Hey, everything okay? I called you a few times already,” he says, sounding worried.

  “I’m okay. Drank a little too much last night and passed out. I just woke up.”

  “Oh,” Bowen responds warily.

  “I just..." He sighs and rubs his face. "I had a lot of shit on my mind that I wanted to stop thinking about for a while."

  “You don't have to explain yourself to me," Bowen replies.

  “Listen, I’m gonna go shower. Do you want to go to The Capital Grille for lunch?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

  “That sounds good. See you then.”

  They say goodbye then hang up. Gunnar tosses his phone on the cushion next to him. He shoves to his feet and trudges heavily up the stairs, his body feeling like it weighs a ton. Going straight for the bathroom, he turns on the shower and strips out of his clothes. He steps into the hot spray and hums in pleasure as the water runs down his back.

  He quickly washes himself then gets out. He dries off and then goes to his bedroom at the end of the short hallway. He opens one of the suitcases that has clean clothes in it, his white hat sitting on top of everything. He snatches it up an
d shoves it on his head. Ain’t no fucking way he’s going out in public without it ever again. Dawson was right about one thing: he is a scarred freak.

  He pulls on a pair of briefs, then dark tan cargo shorts, and a navy blue V-neck T-shirt. He fixes his hat since it got messed up when pulling his T-shirt on. It’s hot out, so he opts for brown flip-flops instead of sneakers.

  His flip-flops smack the stairs as he descends them to go wait in the living room for Bowen. He got ready fairly quickly, so he’s gonna be waiting for at least half an hour before he gets here.

  He plops down onto the couch where he had been sleeping all night and picks up his cell phone from where he set it on the next cushion. No new calls. Good. He still has to call Griffin back, but he’ll do that later.

  When Bowen gets there, he honks his horn. Gunnar grabs his wallet, phone, and keys, and then walks out the door, locking it behind him. Walking out to Bowen’s black Audi, he notices the worried look on his face. Dammit, he’s got nothing to be worried about.

  Gunnar slips into the passenger seat and shuts the door. Good lord, Bowen looks sexy. He’s wearing dark jeans with a purple button down that has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His sandy brown hair is styled nicely, and of course, he has his glasses on, making him look like the sexy as sin geek that he is.

  “Hey,” Gunnar murmurs.

  Bowen glances over at him and gives him a wary smile. “Hi.”

  Gunnar can tell he wants to say more that ‘hi,’ but instead, he pulls out of the driveway and takes off down the street.

  “What is it?” He sighs.

  “What?”

  “You got something you want to say, then say it,” Gunnar replies.

  After a tense moment, Bowen says, “I'm worried about you. I know that you’ve got a lot going on in your head right now, and I think you really should consider seeing someone."

  “No," Gunnar snaps.

  “I just..."

  “The answer's no. Now drop it."

  “Fine,” he murmurs.

  The rest of the ride is silent. Not an uncomfortable one, but they both seem to be up in their own heads. When they get to the restaurant, Bowen finds a place to park, and they get out of the car. As they’re weaving their way through the cars in the parking lot, Gunnar laces his fingers with Bowen’s. Bowen, who is walking slightly in front of him, glances over his shoulder and gives him a small smile.