Burning Through Gravity

  “A picnic.” The word strums from him hollow as he loses himself in me.

  Ford runs his fingers over my cheek. A great sadness encapsulates him, and I feel responsible for tying this unbearable millstone around his neck and throwing him into the abyss of my father’s black heart.

  “Will you be staying on at Jinx?”

  A breath expires from him as he rocks back on his heels. He’s got nothing to gain, nothing to lose. Why should he feel any different? I’ve already stolen it all from him.

  “Take a few days.” I train my eyes on his. “If you’re in—meet me at Shipwrecks Sunday at noon. If not, I guess I’ll be building sandcastles on my own from here on out.”

  He gives a brief nod. “Tell your family I said thank you for dinner.” He drips his gaze over my features, hot as molten steel. “Goodnight, Stevie.”

  He walks out the door and takes my heart right along with him.

  Mom comes back out with my grandmother trailing, a full paper bag in her hand.

  “French bread.” My grandmother plucks at a half-eaten loaf for me to see. “There’s nothing more romantic.”

  My mother eyes the open door. “Mr. Right leave already?”

  “He had somewhere to be.”

  “Somewhere that wasn’t here.” My mother pulls me to the sofa, and we three take a seat. “Remember this?” She plucks her glossy white book off the coffee table, Gravity Asunder. “A book of dark poetry.” She reads it off the cover.

  “Ah, the pièce de résistance of your writing career.”

  “It was the only book in my writing career.” She opens the massive cover and thumbs through the thick pages.

  “‘Burning Through Gravity’—that’s Ford’s favorite.” I push my finger over it until she flattens the book onto her lap in observation.

  “It should be. It has his mother’s name in it.”

  I freeze as she runs her finger under the line, Who will be there to pick up the pieces when you’re broken and alone, Lana? Clay and wire, molding you to my heart’s desire.

  God. “He used to worship your literary mind, and here you’ve disillusioned him.”

  “I’m used to that. Are you still disillusioned?”

  I pull back and take her in. “What was that poem about?” I’m not ready to answer her question.

  She glides her finger over the smooth page.

  “It’s about love—sweet, toxic love.”

  “Toxic,” I parrot. That sounds about right.

  “That’s all it’s ever been for me.”

  “So I take it life that in the Yurt isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “I moved out six months ago. I’ve got a condo in Redondo.” She sings it like a chime. “You should come visit sometime.”

  “I’ll go with you.” My grandmother assures as she sets down tea for each of us.

  “I’ll take a rain check. But for now, I’m exhausted. I think I’ll pass out if I don’t get to bed soon.”

  They walk me to my car, and we exchange deep heartfelt hugs, first my grandmother.

  “Don’t be such a stranger.” She slaps me on the ass so loud the sound cracks through the quiet neighborhood like a whip.

  “Got it.”

  My mother comes in with a full embrace. She kisses my cheek before pressing her lips to my ear.

  “Lana Rule was a dangerous woman. But then that’s what your father preferred. Isn’t it?” She pulls back and inspects me under a dull, fog-covered moon. “Do you remember my sculpture? The Rules of Love? That’s where her heart truly lies.”

  A chill runs up my spine. I pull back with a breath fluttering in my throat like a butterfly that just lost its wings.

  “No.” I shake my head at what I think she might be implying.

  “Go on.” She pats me off into the street. “Get out of here. You have empires to run and men to eviscerate. You can conquer it all, Claire.” She says it cool and loud into the night wind like a song.

  Everything in me freezes. A star winks in the sky as if it were Stevie herself.

  My grandmother nods and smiles.

  They know.

  They’ve always known.

  Ford

  The moon filters its beams through the trees like silver rain falling over the hood of my truck. I went home, changed into my sweats, saw that I was out of whiskey and decided to head to the grocery store. But I’m not in some liquor aisle. I’m parked across the street from Rigby, specifically across from student parking in front of Stevie’s dorm. Somehow over the last twenty-four hours I’ve reduced myself from CEO of Jinx to unemployed stalker.

  I flick the crystal globe hanging over my rear view mirror—smaller than a golf ball, a gift from Evelyn years ago. I reach up and snap it off the chain. It’s time to strip Evelyn from my life, one layer at a time. At one point we thought we were in love. That’s the funny thing about an emotion that ambiguous—you never really know you’re wrong until the right one comes along.

  A pair of headlights turn into the student parking lot, a metallic sky blue Cruiser, Stevie.

  I hop out and linger by my truck, suddenly feeling like a loser for staking out her dorm. She gets halfway up to her building before I call her name.

  She looks over and shields her eyes from the lamppost above.

  “I thought it was a good night for a picnic,” I shout over the vast expanse.

  A smile breaks loose over that gorgeous face, and she runs—runs toward me. My entire body roars to life like a jet engine. I’m flying high with my arms open wide, ready and willing to greet her.

  We meet halfway in the middle of the street as our bodies collide, and I spin her, pressing my lips to the top of her head.

  “Ford!” She squeals in my arms.

  “Stevie.” I squeeze her tight, peppering her face with butter soft kisses. “I couldn’t wait until Sunday. I couldn’t wait another second to see you.”

  Tears stream down her face. “I have so much to tell you.”

  “And I want to hear it all, but first I want to say how sorry I am that we lost our baby.”

  Her lips tremble as she tries to hold in the pain.

  “I would have welcomed that baby, Stevie. My heart breaks that we made something so beautiful and lost it.” I bow to kiss her, and the sound of a car speeding in our direction has me scooping her up and moving the party to the sidewalk instead.

  I glance up and note the idiot forgot to turn on their lights. The car picks up speed, dark as a shadow, and swerves in our direction. I jump as close to the retaining wall as possible, just as the car hops the curb and comes to a screeching halt in front of us.

  Evelyn.

  “Shit.” I place Stevie down as Evelyn staggers out of the car. “What the fuck are you thinking? You’re going to get arrested for this.” I’ll damn well make sure of it.

  “I went to your house, but you weren’t there.” Her eyes are glazed over. She’s wasted as shit. I can smell the vodka on her breath from three feet away. “I just wanted to give you some of your things, baby.” Her ankle turns, and she rights herself by flailing her arms. “You know, old sweatshirts, the electric razor you kept at my place—your wedding ring.”

  Stevie flinches. Evelyn asked for my ring after the divorce, and I gladly gave it to her. She wanted to keep it as a memento, and I never understood why, but now that the blinders have been removed, I can see her obsessive behavior trails back decades.

  “Keep them, burn them, throw them in the trash. Sell the ring for scrap metal, or flush it down the toilet. I really don’t care.” I pull Stevie in by the waist as Evelyn darts in front of us.

  “Throw them in the trash like you threw me in the trash? Like you threw our future children in the trash?”

  Stevie takes a step toward her. “The only trash around here is you, Evelyn.” She glances at me. “Guess what? I figured out who sold Gravity—who sold the Jeneration app to my father.” She jabs Evelyn in the chest, and I cringe. Stevie is getting too close to the fir
e, and I’m afraid she’ll get burned. “You did.”

  “That’s right.” Evelyn blinks a smile. “Turns our your daddy pays more than top dollar for things he wants most. He didn’t want you most, did he, Stevie?”

  I pry the two of them apart and twist Evelyn’s shirt with my fist.

  Just when I didn’t think Evelyn could surprise me, I’m stunned as shit.

  “You sold Gravity—you sold the fucking app?” I give a hard blink because it feels like I’ve been blindsided, literally. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  “Do you really need to ask? You were married to that damn company—that’s why I did it! You left me for Jinx. You said it yourself.”

  “I wasn’t fucking serious. Dammit, I left you because we were through. You and I were over, and we both knew it. That company was my life.”

  “Tell it to your girlfriend. She snaked the rest of it.” She turns to Stevie, seething, electrified by her hatred. “If you hadn’t stepped into the picture, I would be a very rich woman right now. Do you know what your father said to me when I asked if he wanted anything else? He said he already has it all. He said that he paid you in heartbreak for falling in love with the enemy.”

  Stevie’s face pales out. She looks small and frail, and worst of all emptied of ever having the love she sought from her father.

  “I don’t believe you. My father would never say that.” Stevie’s chest expands. “Everything about you is wicked, Evelyn.” She gives her a firm shove. “Do you know what I called you behind your back? Evilyn—because that’s what you are—evil!”

  “Hate me all you want, you stupid bitch, but you’ll never have my husband.” She wields something slick and silver. The light catches it, and my heart freezes.

  “Evelyn!”

  She widens her stance and grabs onto the pistol with both hands. I dive over her body just as a shot rings out, quivering its echo straight through the atmosphere.

  I wrestle the gun from her just as she knees me in the balls.

  A group of girls scream as a crowd rushes over.

  “She’s bleeding!” someone shouts.

  I turn to find Stevie on the ground. Her hair splayed out in a growing pool of liquid.

  Oh, God—please not Stevie.

  I can lose everything else, but I can’t lose her.

  The rest of this miserable night is a blur—fire trucks, police officers, Evelyn in the back of a police car, Stevie in the back of an ambulance. They whisk her off to surgery, and somehow I get it together enough to call Carter and ask him to notify her family. Before I know it, my brothers are huddled with me in the waiting room. Stevie’s brother and sisters sit across from us looking just as tortured as I feel. I try not to make eye contact with her brother—him I still want to beat the shit out of. Her mother and grandmother aren’t here, and I can only assume this arm of the family doesn’t know how or doesn’t want to reach them. I’d take off and get them myself, but I’m too fucked up to drive, to move. Instead, I pray for three solid hours that Stevie is fine, that she makes it, that I get to tell her I love her one more time. The bullet went into her left shoulder, right next to her heart. Evelyn may have been drunk as shit but her aim was on target, and now Stevie might have to pay the biggest price of all.

  The doctor comes in, his mask still in place, a smattering of blood on his blue paper suit.

  I stagger to my feet. “How is she?”

  Her siblings flock over, but that doesn’t deter the doctor.

  “She’s doing fine. It was minimal. Clean exit, missed her vital organs by millimeters. Someone was looking out for her.”

  I nod through tears. I’m so jacked up right now on a dozen different emotions, but the biggest of them is gratitude.

  “Can we see her?”

  “Just one of you for now.”

  I follow him through the double doors marked no unauthorized entry beyond this point. Not one of her siblings could stop me from seeing Stevie first. He leads me back to the recovery room, and I stop shy of her bed. Wires stream from her arms, from under her gown. A machine pumps and burps from behind with eerie yellow lights, and it frightens me because I can’t help thinking if they unplug her she’ll die.

  “Stevie.” My voice breaks as I lean in and lay a gentle kiss over her cheek. “Stevie, baby, wake up for me.”

  She gives a weak nod as if she can hear, and my spirit rockets. My entire body loosens with the relief.

  Her eyes flutter as she struggles to open them.

  “Am I okay?” She blinks around, and I gently turn her chin toward me.

  “You’re okay.” I land a soft kiss on her lips. “Exit wound—nothing to worry about. You made it. I’m going to take you home after this and keep you safe. You’re mine. You belong with me, and no one or nothing can take you away.”

  A soft laugh trembles through her.

  “You’re mine.” She reaches over and laces our fingers together. “Are you up for working side-by-side with me?”

  “I’m up for more than that. I’m up for living side-by-side with you.” I kiss the tip of her finger. “Every day and night.” I douse her hand with kisses.

  The doctor comes in.

  “Are you feeling better, Ms. Lionheart?”

  My insides pinch when he calls her that. I’ll have to rectify that one day. I’d much prefer Mrs. Cannon. She’d make the perfect one—the only one.

  “Everything looks great.” He glances over her chart. “I don’t want you to worry about the baby. We made sure to use the most minimally invasive drugs. We ran your levels, and everything looks fine, but be sure to check in with your OBGYN as soon as possible.”

  Stevie looks to me, then to the doctor.

  She shakes her head. “I lost my baby weeks ago.”

  “Oh?” He refers back to the chart. “That’s not what the tests show. It’s not unheard of for a woman to spot and assume she’s lost the baby. It might have been twins. You could have lost one and reabsorbed it into your body. Spotting can happen for a variety of reasons.”

  Twins. Stevie’s eyes widen at the thought.

  “They couldn’t find a heartbeat.” She tries to sit up and winces.

  “It looks to me you’re not that far along. A few weeks ago it might have been hard to detect.” He gives a brief nod before leaving us stunned as hell.

  “I’m having a baby?” She huffs with surprise.

  “We’re having a baby.” I hold her precious face in my hands and give her a lingering kiss.

  We’re having a baby. Stevie and I made our way back to the beginning with no filters, no lies, just two people who are madly, deeply, insanely in love. The ride has been short and wild, and I can’t wait to see what the future brings.

  Stevie starts to giggle, and I swallow down her laughter as if it were a tonic for my ailing soul—and it is.

  “We’re building something I’ve always wanted.” She gives my lip a playful bite.

  “A multibillion dollar company?”

  “No, you smart ass.” She gives me a weak swat with her good arm. “A family.”

  “That’s sort of what it’s felt like with you right from the beginning. Sometimes all you have to do is look at someone and know that you belong. That’s how it was with you that first night. My gut is never wrong.” I give a quick wink. “Plus, you looked damn good in those jeans.”

  “Watch it, I’m technically your boss.”

  “You can be in charge of the boardroom as long as I get the bedroom. I’ll be your lackey as long as I get to teach you a lesson night after night.”

  A sexy smile flirts on her lips.

  “Done. By the way, I like my coffee black no sugar.”

  “I only deliver coffee one way—hot, all over my body.” I wince. “Sorry, I can’t help it. You have me in every single way, and I’m damn glad about it.”

  Her grin widens into a big toothy smile.

  “I love you, Superman.”

  “I love you, Lo.”

  Epil
ogue

  Shooting Through the Sky

  Stevie

  Life has a way of chewing you up—spitting you out before you ever notice the sting. Or at least that’s what I used to believe. Now, with Ford in my life, a baby on the way, I tend to see things through a heart-shaped lens. People like us used to make me sick—the happy couple that nuzzles every chance they get, the nonstop kisses, the sweet nothings that stream like sugar water into one another’s ears. But here I am—we are—in a place where our heart’s soar past the pale afternoon moon, past the stars, far past my old disillusioned self that drank bitterness like medicine after my sister left the planet. But I was alive and charged with the task of living for the both of us, and I hadn’t really gotten around to doing that until I met Ford.

  Evelyn procured a topnotch attorney that reduced her sentence to a psych treatment stay in lieu of prison. Her father’s legal team howled pseudocyesis—phantom pregnancy, delusional madness until the judge cried uncle. She’ll be out and free before summer. It seems like no one gets put away forever anymore, but I would have much preferred a decade in the pen than some Malibu day spa where she gets to regurgitate her feelings to a group of strangers.

  That gunshot still echoes in the night. It echoes in my heart and makes me hold onto Ford a little bit tighter. Ford was a savior, a cure—still is. I feel salvation each time he pours his oven-hot kisses over me. I drink him down, become him. He becomes me, and, in a strange way, we feel like one.

  As soon as news of the takeover leaked out, I was expelled from Rigby within hours. Ford and I confronted my father about a week after the fact. We stood in his office, and he poured us exotic tea shipped from the orient. He admitted to working with Evelyn, but he said she came to him willingly, and, of course, we believed him.

  “Did you enjoy my party last summer?” He toasts Ford with his porcelain teacup, emasculating and mocking all at the same time.

  “Yes. That’s where I met your daughter.” Ford doesn’t blink.