“I made the kids blueberry pancakes for breakfast. When you’re ready, I can heat up a stack for you.”
“How are they dealing with this?”
“They’re sad. Obviously, Kate and Si are taking it the hardest. Suicide is not something they are familiar with, making it difficult to explain.”
He shifted and pushed himself up, resting against the headboard. “Have you tried talking to them? I can, if you want me to.”
“Thank you, but I have. I think they understand. They held hands, praying for him and his family. Such a beautiful moment. I’m sad you missed it.”
Gunther’s eyes welled with tears as he tried to suck in a deep breath. A hiss escaped as the ache rolled through his muscles and joints.
“Are you in need?” He nodded in obvious shame, casting his gaze away from hers. She reached out and intertwined her fingers with his. “Okay, well, let’s get some vials into you, then you can eat a little food. Maybe it will help get you up and moving around.”
“Maybe,” he whispered. He looked up at her, wanting approval, a tender touch…more love than she had already shown him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“I keep thinking I could have stopped this…” He cleared his throat. “Stopped Henry’s suicide somehow. Do you think that was possible?” Bashfully, he looked away once more and played with the satin edge of the blanket. “I just… I feel responsible. And…”
Tears ran from his eyes, forcing him to bring his hands up to cover his face. He couldn’t contain the raw emotions another second. The jagged, rough cries stampeded forward. He struggled through the waves of breathlessness and the burn in his throat.
“Gun…”
She scooted close and pulled him to her, hushing him as if he were a small child, rocking back and forth, rubbing comforting circles around his back. She murmured loving words, then placed a small kiss by his ear. All things she knew he desperately needed to help ease the distress.
“Please know you are not responsible for what he chose to do. You did so much to help him. More than most would even consider.”
He leaned back as she held onto his muscled shoulders. “But what if he didn’t choose it…”
She furrowed her brow. “Like someone murdered him?”
He shook his head. “No. I mean… Maybe he felt it was the only way to be free from all the mental bullshit. We experienced so many similar things, I get it. I so fucking get it.”
Her mouth dropped open, fear overtaking her concern. “You’re not contemplating it, are you? Do I need to find you help?”
“No, I haven’t in a long time. I feel needed and wanted here. Like this life—you, me, the kids—is my destiny.”
A soft smile lifted her lips. “We do need and want you. We all love you so much.”
“I almost killed myself the night Quinn and my unborn died.” He shaped his hand into a gun, placing it under his jaw. “I held my gun under my chin. If Henry hadn’t knocked—”
“I’m thankful you didn’t,” she blurted out, tears clinging to her lashes, hand hovering over her heart. “I couldn’t imagine our life without you. Without my sweet baby girl, Evie.”
Gunther nodded. “Me, too.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Cora stood. “Come on. Although it’s late, let’s get the day started. One of us should check on Anne, Elaina, and Nicky.”
“Yeah. I need to call a meeting at Edge, as well.”
“I’ll go get stuff for your draw so you can get moving around,” she said, walking to the door.
He murmured a thank you and slipped down into the bedding, waiting for her to come back.
Chapter 5
It was well past dinner when Gunther was finally able to bring himself to go to Edge, calling all his employees in for an emotional meeting about Henry’s death. With the rest of the staff’s approval, he shut down the gym for a couple weeks to give everyone time to grieve in their own way. Unsure if it were the right choice, he worried there would be backlash from Elaina.
After leaving the gym, he decided to check in on them, the ride feeling lonely and too long. All his feelings surfaced, but he knew he had to be the strength Anne, Nicky, and Elaina needed. The burden was almost too much to bear. Unfortunately, he knew he’d have to push his sadness aside, hoping he didn’t explode on his family.
Already failing him, Gunther couldn’t fail Henry’s mother, wife, son, Cora, and their family. Not to mention Carly and his son, Joel, and Josie and Jake.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders.
After parking the truck in Elaina’s driveway, he sat for a minute, trying to find the right words to say. Drowning in emotion, he knew it would be difficult to speak through the tightness in his throat and the ache of his chest, cracking his body wide open. Mindlessly, he rubbed his hand over his heart, then swiped away the tears trickling from his eyes.
Finally, he stepped out of the vehicle, stopping as he gazed at the back of the property.
The shed.
He slammed his eyelids shut and tipped his face toward the sky, hands on his hips. Not able to face it, he turned away.
“Fuck me… This is the biggest motherfucking mistake you could have ever made, you bastard,” he grumbled, his whisper meant for the ears of the tortured man he called his brother.
They had been through so much together, it would’ve been wrong not to consider Henry family.
Now, that branch of his family tree had crashed to the ground, splintering into nothing more than debris. As it scattered, he wondered how long it would be before others swept Henry away. Or would they mourn him, grieve the loss for the rest of the life he could no longer participate in?
Regardless of the herd of elephants standing on his chest, Gunther made his way to the front porch, slowly climbed the steps, and raised a fist to knock on the door. He took a few deep breaths, finding the strength to rap on the glass.
Anne opened the door with Nicky balanced on her hip, her lips pursed as she considered the broken man in front of her. “Come in,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Gunther nodded and stepped through the doorway, closing it behind him. The atmosphere felt heavy. Too heavy. Gazing at Anne, he took in her frazzled state.
The dark circles, drawn face, and tousled hair weren’t the only evidence. Nicky sucked away at his fingers, whimpering, snot running down his face. Looking to his left, he noted the trail of wadded-up tissues from the couch to the floor.
When his gaze flickered back to Anne’s, he wanted to cry for her…with her. Endure the harrowing emotions brought on by a single poor choice she made named Roger.
The longer he stared, the more she stood tall. A pillar of strength, but he could see past the straight shoulders, head held high. Her bloodshot eyes alone told the whole story.
Thinking he should’ve consulted Elaina before he decided to shut the gym down for a bit, he rubbed his head and sighed. “What can I do for you, Anne?” Gunther hoped she would open up.
Her cheeks flushed and her lips twitched as the tears welled. The plight of being a proud, strong woman began to wither away and turn to dust, exposing her real emotions.
The fear, the sick feeling cemented in her stomach, the awful words fluttering through her head, the regret, the vivid image of her son—dead, part of his head missing and splattered on the shed wall behind him.
Tears dripped down her cheeks. All Gunther could think of doing was holding her through the godawful pain they were both experiencing. In a way, it felt selfish that he could even compare his emotional state to hers, but seeing her become undone allowed him to drop his guard…just a little.
“Come here,” he said, voice cracking. When he reached out, Anne fell into his chest. She continued to stay as reserved as possible, choking out a few quiet sobs.
Nicky wiggled and struggled. Maybe the moment was too much for him to handle. She allowed him to slide down and toddle around b
efore he clung to her legs, crying.
Anne pulled away and picked him up again. “I can’t stop thinking about how much I am responsible for this…for his death.”
“No,” Gunther said, shaking his head.
“I brought him into the mess.”
“You had no idea how it would all turn out. There’s always hope when a child is born. Whether it’s hope for a future rewarded in the riches found with unconditional love, or if it’s the possibility everyone will see the worth in you and your newborn. You never could’ve guessed all the extraordinary circumstances forced upon your son. You didn’t have control, and that is not something to blame yourself over.”
“I could’ve left or even found a way out.”
“And I bet you tried.”
“Not hard enough,” she ground out through a tight jaw. “I lost my son, along with every dream I had for him, the first time I held him in my arms.”
“Anne…” He rested his hands on his hips, unsure of what he should do.
“I wanted so much for him. I wanted him to grow up and become a man who would love and cherish those around him. To work hard and earn his keep. To be of sound mind. To find his way through life, feeling like he was a success.”
“He was all those things. He just became lost within that hard head of his.”
“That messed-up hard head…due to me.”
“No. His head wasn’t clear because of the program. It had nothing to do with you.”
She wiped away the tears continuing down her cheeks. “I should’ve walked away from Roger when I found out I was pregnant, but I thought I could change him, show him the love he never had.” She shook her head. “I will never understand why I sat there and did nothing to save my son. When we hid in my old house, I thought we had a chance, but Roger took him from me. I should’ve taken Henry to another country. I will always regret my actions, always feel responsible. I am his mother. His happiness and strength were dependent on me.”
Gunther stepped forward and rested his hands on her narrow shoulders. “Don’t do this to yourself. You didn’t put the gun in his hand. That is something he did to himself.” He let out a loud breath. “Listen, I just came back from meeting with Edge’s employees. I’m temporarily shutting down all training sessions and classes. I know I should’ve consulted Elaina first, but I didn’t think she needed the extra burden of making business decisions right now. I need to hire an accountant and at least one more trainer, maybe two, to pick up what Henry did there.”
“I think you made the right decision. I’ll let her know.”
“Good… Okay. Thank you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Yanking a folded piece of paper from the money clip, he extended his trembling hand to Anne. “This is Henry’s salary from the last pay period…and mine.”
She pushed his hand away. “I cannot take your money. You earned that, especially as of late when he wasn’t there much.”
“Ple-ase.” His voice cracked so hard, Gunther had to clear his throat. “I’m donating it toward his final expenses.”
Anne pursed her lips and took the check from his hand, tucking it into the pocket of her khaki pants. She knew she would never cash it, but she wanted to make him feel as if he had helped in some way.
“Well, I probably should get back home. It’s late, and the kids like me to help tuck them in.”
She smiled, although it never reached her sad eyes. “Thank you for coming over.”
Gunther took her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call or come over. Cora and I will do whatever we can to help. As a matter of fact, when I left to go to Edge, she was cooking, getting meals ready for your freezer.”
“She’s a wonderful woman.”
Nodding, smiling slightly, he said, “I cannot argue with that logic. Let me know what you decide to do for a funeral. We can help with whatever it is you may need.”
“Thank you again. You are the best family anyone could have.”
“Thank you. Your kind words mean a lot to me.” Gunther leaned forward and kissed Anne on the cheek, then turned around and headed out the door.
Opening the back door, Gunther lumbered into the kitchen. The scent of food hit him right in the stomach, which began growling, even though he didn’t think he could eat anything any time soon. When he only ate a few bites of the pancakes Cora had warmed up for him earlier, he knew she was worried.
He glanced around the kitchen. Stews bubbled in pots on the stovetop. Casserole dishes, covered in foil, filled the oven. Several containers lined the countertops, cooling.
Feeling worn thin and exhausted, he leaned against the counter, placing one arm across his body, covering his face with the other hand.
When the oven timer chimed, the soft footfalls of a woman who would do anything for anyone landed heavy in his ears. Peeking through his fingers, he saw Cora come to a halt in the kitchen doorway.
“Gunther? Are you okay?” she asked, walking up to him.
He dropped his lame attempt to cover his emotions, his hands slapping against his thighs. Her big, light blue eyes filled with worry, her gaze traced every inch of his face.
“No…no, I’m not,” he said roughly.
“Did the meeting go okay?”
“As good as I expected. I have some bloody good employees.”
“You do.” She nodded.
“I decided to put all training sessions and classes on hold for a bit until we get some things sorted. Maybe until after the funeral…” Oh Christ…, he thought, feeling the lump in his throat grow to the size of a fucking boulder. His chin began trembling, his lips quivering. He tipped his face toward the ceiling, trying not to cry again.
“Hey…,” Cora said, wrapping her arms around his big body. “Gun, it’s okay. Let it out.”
Her warmth and capacity to care so deeply for him made him feel able to gain some composure. He gave into the moment and wrapped his arms around her, jamming his hands into the back pockets of her worn, skintight jeans. Resting his cheek next to her temple, he hadn’t felt so comforted in a long time.
Holding on for dear life, he wanted to fall asleep with this near-perfect woman curled up next to him. However, he was dealing with so much, it would seem like a desperate attempt to use her for everything she was willing to give. He groaned as she shifted her hips, his lips moving on their own accord, finding hers.
The oven timer chiming again was a good thing. One more second, he might have carried her upstairs and relished in the comfort of being inside her, connecting on a level they hadn’t before.
Cora broke the kiss and tried to push away from his locked embrace. “I need to get that out of the oven.”
“Right,” he said.
As he watched her every move, she dipped under his arms and walked over to the stove, slipping oven mitts over her hands.
“Oh, fucking hell…,” he whispered when she bent over, ass swaying as she unloaded the oven. He quickly slipped his hand down his pants and made the necessary adjustments so the circulation didn’t cut off his most valuable appendage. Shutting his eyes, the guilt railroaded him, ashamed over his body’s reaction at a time he should only feel sorrow.
Cora set the dishes on trivets and turned off the oven. As she turned to face him, a rosy pink hue covered her cheeks, creeping down to her chest. Staring at him, she fidgeted, realizing the mitts were still on her hands. She ditched them on the counter and headed back to Gunther.
He gazed at the floor, shoulders slumping. She frowned, seeing the sadness he carried like a heavy weight. He seemed to be facing many battles, most internally. She didn’t think he would open himself up, exposing his vulnerability, any more than he did earlier in his room.
She reached up and stroked the scar on his cheek. “Tell me how to help you.”
“I-I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry you lost him. I know how much he meant to you, even if you don’t want to say it out loud.”
/> “Thanks.”
“Were you able to check on everybody next door?”
Gunther nodded. “Anne blames herself. She’s taking everything on, thinking she caused him to do it.”
“Oh no… You told her otherwise, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, exhaling. “But she still thinks she played a part in it. I mean… Being with Roger, she kind of did.”
“Right, but from what I understand, he was a controlling jerk.” Cora shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder if people think about the repercussions committing suicide can and will cause those who loved them. It’s inevitable… Anne and Elaina are going to blame themselves.”
Shying away, he whispered, “And me.”
“Yes, and you.” She stared at him for a moment before taking his hands. “Gun, I know you feel guilty, but you are not to blame.”
“Then why does it feel that way?”
“I think it’s your past creeping in.”
“Cora, I played more of a part in this than Anne. I abused him…severely. Like hospitalizations. I humiliated him more times than I want to even admit. Beat him even more than that. Did you know I was the one who injected him with the virus?”
Cora’s eyes widened. “I…I…” She whispered a curse and turned away.
Without pause, he spun her back around and picked up her chin with his finger. “I hate what I’ve done. I hate everything about the man I was. As you can see with your own two eyes, that’s no longer me. I’m a much better man because of Quinn and you. Both of you have taught me so much, and I will forever be grateful. When I say that I contributed to his downfall, that’s the case. I truly am responsible, regardless of the fact they held a knife to my throat and a gun to my head. I didn’t know any better, but I will never forgive my actions.”
She gazed up at him, his finger still under her chin. The innocence in her eyes struck him on a deep level. This incredible woman would never be able to comprehend the severity of his actions because she had never witnessed such behavior.
Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five) Page 5