Page 98 of Mine

He wouldn’t look at me as he drove through the city streets, navigating like the native New Yorker he was.

I looked ahead as thoughts ran through my mind, wondering how much I truly knew about the man I loved.

What is considered enough?

Is it the way he makes me feel?

Did it matter about his life choices, did I sign up to whatever he is simply because I love him?

I watched as the streets whizzed by, my eyes aching with tiredness, my body alert with suspicion. I had to know, but I wasn’t sure he would tell me.

His jaw was set as he drove, moving through lanes without signalling, taking sharp turns abruptly, as I gripped onto the side of the car, biting my lip with annoyance. He pulled into a dirt track I didn’t know they had in New York, which led to a small house hidden from the view of the street. He cut the engine and exhaled, glancing at me as he got out, slamming his door behind him. He strode around to my side, opening the door and gazing at me, those fucking eyes commanding that I leave the truck.

“Are you going to explain to me what thefuckyou are doing with a gun?” my voice shook as he raised his eyebrows, his face otherwise unreadable.

“Come on, Gretchen.You knowI’m not a fucking shopkeeper.”

His eyes blazed as he watched me climb out of the car, closing it securely behind me. I shivered in the night air, and he moved his hand to the small of my back, guiding me towards the house.

I climbed the steps whilst he unlocked the door before me, his broad shoulders hunched as he tugged the door open, stepping back so I could walk in before him. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling softly as I saw the resemblance between the house in Winterburg and this one.

He tossed his keys on the side, walking to the kitchen to grab a beer.

How could he be so composed?

“Cal. Why do you have a gun?” I repeated, refusing to allow this to slide.

His green eyes burned into mine as he bit the bottle top from the beer, before tilting it to his delicious mouth that I tried to avoid staring at.

“So I have a gun,” he snapped as he leaned against the doorway, his hair falling into his eyes. “It’s not something you need to be concerned about,” his tone softened as his eyes travelled up and down my body, causing goosebumps to rise on my arms. “What did he say to you?” he was irritated, and I glared at the ground.

“I don’t remember. He wasdrunk. Cal, you could’ve lost your temper tonight, with a gun tucked into your belt,” I folded my arms and glared at him then as he smiled crookedly.

“So? If he would have touched you, in any way you didn’t want, I wouldn’t have hesitated in blowing his fucking head off.”

“Exactly.”

We stared at each other then, his eyes telling me this was a battle I would not win.

“Move in with me.”

His words fell between us and I sucked in a breath.

He gazed at the floor, a soft smile on his face. He knew how much I wanted this, yet he had insisted I had tried to live a “normal” life, with us both knowing that was not something I could live whilst living with him.

“You said—”

“I know what I said, Gretchen, because I fucking said it,” he snickered then and I thawed somewhat, a yearning for his arms to be around me. “But you aren’t safe there, and I’m tired of sleeping without you every night,” he walked towards me then, placing his beer beside his keys, tugging me close to him as his eyes examined every inch of my face, his breath hot on my cheek.

“I can’t risk anything ever happening to you, Gretchen,” raw emotion filled his tone, his voice caught in his throat.

Where had this come from?

“Cal. Nothing will happen to me. I’m just me, a student living in New York with my protective boyfriend ready to turn up and save me with his fuckinggun.”

He unhooked it from his belt then, dropping it onto the surface with a loud clatter. He pushed me against the wall, his hands beside my face as he gazed at me.

“First, you aren’tjustyou. I’ve met no one like you in my life. You’re the air that I breathe. I couldn’t live without you,” his finger trailed down my face, resting on my chin as he tipped my head up to look at him, my heart swelling with pure love for this man, whatever he was. “Second,” he continued, his voice gruff, “believe it or not, this gun could save our lives one day. Do you think a lion would fight another lion without his teeth or his claws? Of course not. You match danger with danger. Do you understand?”