Cut Wide Open
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“Mom,” he sucked in sharp breaths as he cried, “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m here,” I whispered and then I began to hum to him. It was soft and quiet. I hummed “Amazing Grace.” It was something I’d done plenty of times for him. I was lost in the moment and didn't hear the door. I was focused on my son, rocking him and holding him like he was much younger than his seven-year-old self. He needed so much. I hated what that sick fuck did to me, but I hated him even more for what he did to my son. No boy should have to lose his mother. I knew what it was like to lose the only person in your world. He must’ve been so afraid.
A hand on my shoulder had me looking up in surprise. Gunner was standing there. He bent low, leaning over us. He smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. Sweat and gasoline. The room was dim and my boy still rocked in my arms while I continued humming. Gunner pressed his head to mine. The feel of his forehead against my own was a comfort I had long forgotten. My son didn't flinch, or move when he felt Gunner at his back. It was like my son accepted his comfort on a subconscious level.
I finished the verse and Gunner lifted Gun from my arms. I looked up at him stunned by the ease with which Gun went to him. He held out his hand for me, which even in the dark I could tell was bruised and swollen. “He been up for a while?”
I shook my head not using my voice and clasped my hand in his. We walked quietly to the bedroom and I noticed his friend trying to give us privacy by not looking our way as he hung back in the kitchen.
The room was the same room I awoke in not ten minutes before, but somehow, now it seemed different. Everything that felt muted before now seemed more alive Moonlight filtered through the lone window. The wooden beams of the log cabin were a stark contrast to the black headboard that seemed to take up an entire wall. It was a masculine space, but somehow with the small nightstand and intricate woodwork, it felt almost homey. Gunner laid Gun down in the middle of the bed, and only once he laid him down did he notice the tears still streaming from Gun’s eyes.
I couldn't hide in myself any longer. Gun needed so much. He needed his parents, both of us. “He had a bad dream,” I admitted out loud, speaking to Gunner for the first time. His eyes were the only thing that gave away his surprise.
“That true, kid? Something shake you?”
I sat down on the edge of the bed as Gunner stood above us. Gun eyed me, and then moved in close, and put his arm around my waist.
“Baby, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Kid,” Gunner spoke as he sat down on the other side of Gun. “Told you I’d bring her back to you, yeah?”
When Gun didn’t answer him, he prompted again, “Didn’t I?”
Gun lifted his head from my lap, “Yeah, Dad.”
My heart clenched at hearing Gun say dad.
“I promised you, right?”
“You did.”
“Well, I’ll make another promise to you, and I always keep my promises. Nothing is going to happen to your mom. I won’t let it. I promise.”
He nodded his head accepting Gunner’s promise, then placed his head back in my lap. I stroked the side of his head and it wasn't long before he drifted off.
Once asleep, Gunner placed Gun under the blankets and then grabbed my hand, walked me to the other side of the bed, climbed in next to Gun, and laid down saying, “Climb in with me. Need you near, but I don’t want to leave him.”
I did as he said and laid down beside him facing him. “God, let me hear your voice, Mouse.”
I swiped my thumb along his bruised cheek, “You’re hurt.”
He sighed like it was the best sound he’d ever hear. “I’m fine.”
“Where’d you go?” I asked and was met with the same question from Gunner, “Where’d you go?”
What a loaded question. Which time. Where did I go when my momma was getting high, and left me as her life drained? Where did I go when he left me young and pregnant? Where, after the foster home from hell? Where, after Enrico raped me? Where, after I was almost killed?”
I blinked unsure of the answer he wanted me to give. Noticing my internal dialogue, Gunner answered my question. “I fight. Used to do it all the time. Now, I do it when I need a release. Seeing you like that. Jesus. I wanted to break something. That’s not even the right way to describe it. I want to kill someone. I want to find that sick fucker and not only kill him, but I want to destroy anything he ever gave two shits about. Can’t do that and keep you safe, so, I found a fight and I fought.” He shrugged his shoulders like no big deal. The heat from his skin radiated like a warm blanket. One would think after everything I’d been through that I wouldn't want a man to be near me, but this wasn't just a man. He was the only man. I’d never felt safe or loved except for Gunner, and then Gun. He was a part of me.
“Did you win?” I looked down feeling shy.
Gunner’s slightly swollen knuckles lifted my chin, “What do you think?” His voice almost had a rasp to it, and part of me wanted to press my lips to his, but then the shame of everything my body had been through washed over me.
“I think if I remember your temper correctly, then he never had a chance.”
He smirked, “It’s nice to hear your voice.” And then Gunner leaned forward and pressed his lips to my head, “Get some sleep. Yeah?”
I moved my arm around his waist and burrowed deep into his chest. Today was a hard day. Tomorrow would be better. I’d be better.
Chapter Twenty-One Gunner
My God! Her voice! What a sweet sound. I laid awake with her in my arms, feeling like I could finally breathe. Even though she was frail, and her body was broken, there was something about her that gave me the peace that no amount of fighting, drinking, or sex could’ve ever given me. I woke up when I heard Gun stir. Charlie was still sleeping. I peeled myself from her arms and sat up. I put my finger over my lips to shush Gun. I didn't want to wake her. She looked peaceful.
Gun followed me into the kitchen where Shane and Reggie sat drinking coffee. “You want some cereal?” I looked at Gun wondering how he was today.
“Any more Lucky Charms?” he asked telling me he wasn’t letting last night get him down.
“Saved you a bowl,” Shane said sliding the box down the counter, “This dipshit would’ve eaten it all.” Shane shot Reggie a look that said, told you we needed to save some.
“I’m here,” I whispered and then I began to hum to him. It was soft and quiet. I hummed “Amazing Grace.” It was something I’d done plenty of times for him. I was lost in the moment and didn't hear the door. I was focused on my son, rocking him and holding him like he was much younger than his seven-year-old self. He needed so much. I hated what that sick fuck did to me, but I hated him even more for what he did to my son. No boy should have to lose his mother. I knew what it was like to lose the only person in your world. He must’ve been so afraid.
A hand on my shoulder had me looking up in surprise. Gunner was standing there. He bent low, leaning over us. He smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. Sweat and gasoline. The room was dim and my boy still rocked in my arms while I continued humming. Gunner pressed his head to mine. The feel of his forehead against my own was a comfort I had long forgotten. My son didn't flinch, or move when he felt Gunner at his back. It was like my son accepted his comfort on a subconscious level.
I finished the verse and Gunner lifted Gun from my arms. I looked up at him stunned by the ease with which Gun went to him. He held out his hand for me, which even in the dark I could tell was bruised and swollen. “He been up for a while?”
I shook my head not using my voice and clasped my hand in his. We walked quietly to the bedroom and I noticed his friend trying to give us privacy by not looking our way as he hung back in the kitchen.
The room was the same room I awoke in not ten minutes before, but somehow, now it seemed different. Everything that felt muted before now seemed more alive Moonlight filtered through the lone window. The wooden beams of the log cabin were a stark contrast to the black headboard that seemed to take up an entire wall. It was a masculine space, but somehow with the small nightstand and intricate woodwork, it felt almost homey. Gunner laid Gun down in the middle of the bed, and only once he laid him down did he notice the tears still streaming from Gun’s eyes.
I couldn't hide in myself any longer. Gun needed so much. He needed his parents, both of us. “He had a bad dream,” I admitted out loud, speaking to Gunner for the first time. His eyes were the only thing that gave away his surprise.
“That true, kid? Something shake you?”
I sat down on the edge of the bed as Gunner stood above us. Gun eyed me, and then moved in close, and put his arm around my waist.
“Baby, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Kid,” Gunner spoke as he sat down on the other side of Gun. “Told you I’d bring her back to you, yeah?”
When Gun didn’t answer him, he prompted again, “Didn’t I?”
Gun lifted his head from my lap, “Yeah, Dad.”
My heart clenched at hearing Gun say dad.
“I promised you, right?”
“You did.”
“Well, I’ll make another promise to you, and I always keep my promises. Nothing is going to happen to your mom. I won’t let it. I promise.”
He nodded his head accepting Gunner’s promise, then placed his head back in my lap. I stroked the side of his head and it wasn't long before he drifted off.
Once asleep, Gunner placed Gun under the blankets and then grabbed my hand, walked me to the other side of the bed, climbed in next to Gun, and laid down saying, “Climb in with me. Need you near, but I don’t want to leave him.”
I did as he said and laid down beside him facing him. “God, let me hear your voice, Mouse.”
I swiped my thumb along his bruised cheek, “You’re hurt.”
He sighed like it was the best sound he’d ever hear. “I’m fine.”
“Where’d you go?” I asked and was met with the same question from Gunner, “Where’d you go?”
What a loaded question. Which time. Where did I go when my momma was getting high, and left me as her life drained? Where did I go when he left me young and pregnant? Where, after the foster home from hell? Where, after Enrico raped me? Where, after I was almost killed?”
I blinked unsure of the answer he wanted me to give. Noticing my internal dialogue, Gunner answered my question. “I fight. Used to do it all the time. Now, I do it when I need a release. Seeing you like that. Jesus. I wanted to break something. That’s not even the right way to describe it. I want to kill someone. I want to find that sick fucker and not only kill him, but I want to destroy anything he ever gave two shits about. Can’t do that and keep you safe, so, I found a fight and I fought.” He shrugged his shoulders like no big deal. The heat from his skin radiated like a warm blanket. One would think after everything I’d been through that I wouldn't want a man to be near me, but this wasn't just a man. He was the only man. I’d never felt safe or loved except for Gunner, and then Gun. He was a part of me.
“Did you win?” I looked down feeling shy.
Gunner’s slightly swollen knuckles lifted my chin, “What do you think?” His voice almost had a rasp to it, and part of me wanted to press my lips to his, but then the shame of everything my body had been through washed over me.
“I think if I remember your temper correctly, then he never had a chance.”
He smirked, “It’s nice to hear your voice.” And then Gunner leaned forward and pressed his lips to my head, “Get some sleep. Yeah?”
I moved my arm around his waist and burrowed deep into his chest. Today was a hard day. Tomorrow would be better. I’d be better.
Chapter Twenty-One Gunner
My God! Her voice! What a sweet sound. I laid awake with her in my arms, feeling like I could finally breathe. Even though she was frail, and her body was broken, there was something about her that gave me the peace that no amount of fighting, drinking, or sex could’ve ever given me. I woke up when I heard Gun stir. Charlie was still sleeping. I peeled myself from her arms and sat up. I put my finger over my lips to shush Gun. I didn't want to wake her. She looked peaceful.
Gun followed me into the kitchen where Shane and Reggie sat drinking coffee. “You want some cereal?” I looked at Gun wondering how he was today.
“Any more Lucky Charms?” he asked telling me he wasn’t letting last night get him down.
“Saved you a bowl,” Shane said sliding the box down the counter, “This dipshit would’ve eaten it all.” Shane shot Reggie a look that said, told you we needed to save some.
