Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Cash

The sting from Loretta’s slap leaves me speechless. We came out here to talk about music, life, anything, but I sure as hell didn’t expect her to turn on me the second we were alone.

“Get the fuck off my property!” Gunner yells as he barrels out of the house toward us. He pulls me behind him, shielding me from his mother’s death glare.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “You can’t be taking the side of some hussy over your own mamma.”

“I’m taking the side of the woman who’s saved me over the woman who’s drowned me.”

Gunner’s words shock me. I can’t imagine how bitter their bite is for Loretta.

“Gunner Finnigan Shaw, how dare you talk to me like that! I’m your mother!”

Gunner fists his hands, and the muscles in his back go taut. It’s almost as if he’s holding himself back with an invisible string. “You call yourself a mother? I’ve taken care of you my entire life, Mama. I was eight years old the first time you drank so much you fell into the glass coffee table. I’ll never forget how you pretended everything was okay as you tucked me into bed and left blood-stained hand prints all over my Spiderman sheets.”

Loretta steps back as if Gunner has slapped her like she just slapped me.

But it doesn’t slow Gunner down. It’s like the dam holding back his emotions has shattered, and the cascading water of his pain drowns everything in its wake. “You want to talk about me fucking around, Loretta? How about when I came home from camp, and you were so fucked out of your mind that you forgot to kick out the three leach musicians in your bed? Want to know why I never did drugs, Mother? Especially since they were in every damn nook and cranny of your house? It was seeing one of those men snort cocaine from your ass crack while you sucked the dick of another because they covered it in blow.”

Tears stream down Loretta’s face. I’m unsure if they’re due to sorrow, shame, or anger. She stares at her son for a moment before she drops her gaze and roots in her bag. I assume she’s searching for her flask. “Ungrateful. After everything I’ve done for you. I should’ve aborted you like your daddy wanted.”

Gunner’s snarl is deep and scary. “Don’t you dare. That man was a saint. He was there despite everything you put him through. He loved you with all his heart, and you didn’t deserve one second of it.”

“Gunner,” I stammer, grabbing his forearm, desperate to make him stop before he says something he’ll regret. “Why don’t you walk away? Revisit this once you’ve had a moment to think about it?”

He turns to me, his blue eyes as cold as ice. “I’ve had decades to think on it. I’ve spent my life deciding for her. Abandoned a successful career with what is now the most successful band in America.”

“Successful? Those clowns in masks,” Loretta scoffs. She bends to the side to look me in the face. “He and his friends started a weird little band where they wore masks and screamed emo lyrics. Those boys wouldn’t have made it anywhere. Absolute no-talent trash.”

“Is that why I’m a millionaire, Mother? Because of all the worthless songs my trashy friends perform to millions of fans. Gutless Void has gone triple platinum four times, won ten Grammys, and played to sold-out stadiums. I should’ve been on that stage, but I gave it up to be near you. To ensure you didn’t end up killing yourself.”

My feet are heavy like I’m sinking in quicksand. I’m unsure what’s more shocking: Gunner being the principal songwriter of one of the world’s biggest alternative metal bands or giving up his dreams to take care of his alcoholic mother.

“Go home, Mother. Go home and don’t come back until you’re ready to get help because I’m not willing to spend another twenty years watching you disintegrate while trying to kill yourself. It’s my turn to live my life, and it’s your choice if you want to be a part of it.”

Gunner entwines his fingers with mine and tugs me inside, leaving his mother mumbling incoherently as she wobbles on his front lawn.

“Gunner, you can’t just leave it like this. She’s your mother.”

He doesn’t say a word, stomping to the sink and pouring himself a glass of water. He chugs it back, his hard eyes staring out the window.

I don’t know what to say or do, but I can’t stand here and let him seclude himself in anger and pity. “When were you gonna tell me you were in the business? Gutless Void is a pretty big deal.”

Gunner shrugs. “I’m not in the band. No one knows who Gunner Shaw is.”

I move closer, one hesitant step at a time. “Everyone knows who Dirtbag is, though.”

Gunner cracks a smile. “God, that name is so idiotic. Eighteen-year-old Gunner was a moron. The guys did a much better job picking their names than I did. You’d figure the songwriter would pick something more prolific. I thought about changing it, but the labels said it would fuck up brand recognition. I would’ve told them to fuck themselves, but the guys were getting traction, and Dirtbag was helpful.”

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I place my cheek on his back as I croon, “‘I’m an empty vessel crying into the night, begging for salvation.’”

He turns, gazing down at me. “Never thought I’d get so turned on hearing a sexy woman sing my lyrics to me.”

I push him off. “Oh, no, you don’t. You will not fuck me senseless to avoid talking about what happened back there.

Gunner sighs and pushes his hands through his hair, making the dark strands stick up in all directions. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Cash. I was born to a celebrity with so many issues that she self-medicates. So, for most of my life, I’ve raised myself. I should’ve lived my life and let her rot alone, but the guilt of leaving her alone killed me, so I left my dreams in the dust to ensure she didn’t kill herself as quickly.”

“That’s a start,” I whisper.

“Her getting better is a dream I’ve held onto practically my whole life, but I can’t sacrifice my future for her anymore. I’m not giving you up.”

“Who’s asking you to? I’m here, Gunner, but I can’t have you hurting. As much as you want to deny it, you love that woman. I won’t allow you to cut a piece of yourself out to be with me.”

“Your life isn’t here, Cash. It’s in New York. I can’t have you give up your dreams for her, too. I won’t allow it.”

I brush my hand against the stubble on his cheek. “And I won’t allow the man I love to hurt anymore.”

“I don’t know what to do, Cash. I have no idea how to reach her.”

“We’ll figure it out. Together.”