Had she really left the worst hell imaginable behind her? With nearly two weeks in treatment, Gia finally managed to shower, wash her hair and dress without assistance. Dressed in a clean t-shirt and jeans, and holding her familiar leather jacket, she made her way down to the kitchen. She hoped she’d left the worst of the detox far behind.
Marco sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee. Today he wore jeans and a soft Henley long-sleeved shirt like Dante favored. The charcoal gray shirt showed off his muscular physique.
Not that she cared...much. But come on, the retired Marine proved some serious eye candy.
A moody sky illuminated the cheery room. Soft lamplight made the yellow room glow, lending ambiance to the floral pictures and the pastoral backdrop of distant hills and frolicking lambs.
“There she is. Grab some breakfast. We’ve got plans.” He tossed her something.
She caught it, thankful to have her reflexes back.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding up the keys. “We’re actually leaving the sheep? I don’t know about that, Brutus. I was starting to get attached.”
He grinned at her. “Yep, we’re going out. Get some food in your belly. Here’s your vitamin cocktail.” He pointed to the paper cup sitting next to a place setting. “Eat. I want to hit the road. We have a bit of a drive.”
The thought of going out filled Gia with both dread and excitement. The world, with all its temptation, lay beyond that driveway. Within the walls of Gray House lay kindness, caring, and the commitment to get through hard times. And I have Brutus all to myself.
Gia sat, spread her napkin in her lap and reached for some buttered bread. She munched on her toast silently for a few minutes.
After she’d eaten her strawberry jam-covered toast, nibbled at her eggs, and downed her herbal tea, she said, “Why do we have to go somewhere? Do I need a check-up or something? Or, did someone say something about my one-on-ones with the shrink? I’ve been cooperative and doing all the exercises I’m given. I started digging around in my childhood, but the therapist agrees that one will take some hard work to come to grips with. I’m not ready to deal with it.”
“I’ve noticed it’s a hands-off topic.” Marco nodded encouragement to her to keep talking.
“I’m keeping a journal, talking about my feelings…” She tapped her fingers indicating her progress.
Marco tipped his head back, draining his cup of coffee.
Gia couldn’t help but eye his strong neck.
He set his cup down on the table. “I know you are. You’re doing great. No check-up is needed. Daphne and the good doctors here have kept a steady watch over you. No, today we need to go out so you can remember what you’ve been fighting for.”
“Who says I needed to fight for something...besides the need to stay away from drink, that is?” She picked up the yellow cotton napkin in her lap and wiped her mouth.
“That’s the thing, Gia,” he said easily. “Even if you don’t think you’re fighting for something, you are. Let’s see if we can jog your memory.” He picked up both their dirty plates and silverware and set them in the stainless steel sink. “Ready?” he said, a bright smile on his face.
“I guess so.” She stood and followed her sober companion to the nondescript, blue, four-door sedan, trepidation filling her heart.
“Good, because you’re driving,” he said. “We’re taking the Gray House vehicle.”
She swallowed quickly, feeling like a teen being handed the keys to dad’s Mercedes—after totaling his BMW.
Trepidation filled her belly as she slid into the driver’s seat.
“You going to start the engine?” Marco smiled warmly at her from the passenger seat.
“Yeah,” she said, none too confidently. Clutching the keys, she slid them into the ignition with trembling fingers. “There,” she said.
“Good job.” Marco kept up his smile. “Now turn her on, and we’re off.”
After giving the engine a couple revs, she backed out of the parking spot. As she drove, she gripped the wheel, driving like a grandma. As they meandered through the quaint town, an unsettling sensation churned through her belly.
“Hey, Brutus,” she said.
“Yeah?” he said, turning his intoxicating gaze in her direction.
“This whole sober thing...it feels, um...kind of strange, I guess.” She flexed her hands on the steering wheel and then tapped a rapid rhythm with her fingers.
“Feeling a little anxious?” Marco said.
“Um, yeah. I guess. Sort of.” She side-eyed his handsome profile and tried to still her hands. He had the most aquiline nose she’d ever seen. Not that she studied men’s noses or anything.
“That’s perfectly normal. Everyone goes through it. You’ll need to learn some new strategies for being in the world. We’ll start with the group sessions in a day or two. Your one-on-ones are going well. But, for today, at least, let’s just have us some fun, shall we?” A warm smile crossed his face. “Turn here.”
She glanced at his nose again. Coupled with his strong jaw, it gave him the appearance of raw power. She’d never really gone for such clean-cut, all-American types, but...she shook her head. He’s only here to help you get your shit together, remember?
She followed his directions as they headed through green hills and sweeping valleys. The whole thing looked so Norman Rockwell-like she wanted to laugh. She expected to see farmers and their wives sitting on their front porch sipping lemonade. Or groups of women working on quilts.
“Last turn, here,” Marco said. He pointed to the left.
She cranked the wheel in the direction he indicated, heading uphill. When they crested the top, she stared at the scene ahead. “Are you fucking serious? A carnival?”
“As serious as a drinking problem,” he said. “Now hold your judgment and let’s go have some fun.”
She glared at him as he got out of the car, but he missed the moment. She exited the vehicle, feeling all kinds of stupid.
“I don’t do carnivals, Brutus. They’re not my thing.” Leaning against the vehicle, she folded her arms.
He let out a chuckle, settling his bulk beside her.
“I haven’t been to one of these since childhood. My little sis loved to go to the carnival. She called it the ‘musement park.’“ Gia let out a sad smile, thinking of her sister. A familiar stab of guilt poked her insides, thinking of how she abandoned her sister.
She scanned the colorful rides whirling through the air and looked at the hawker’s booths. The screams of ride goers, the talking all around her, and the occasional baby cry floated all around her. The memory-evoking smells of cotton candy, hot dog, and piping hot ears of corn wafted toward her nose. A flood of sappy, painful memories filled her mind.
“My fiancée loved them, too. She and I used to go every weekend when they’d roll through town.” His face grew dark, and he pressed the corners of his mouth together.
Gia’s eyebrows shot up. She inched away from him. “You’re married? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Marco’s face soured. “Not married. I lost her.”
“How can you lose someone? What happened? Did she disappear in the woods on the way to Grandmother’s house?” Gia asked, instantly regretting the quip.
Marco turned his face toward her, flashing a dark, anguished look. He shook his head.
Gia bit her lip. Maybe this is whatever Daphne referred to as the trouble he’s been through. “Anyway...I’m surprised to be at a carnival. How do you know I won’t just mope around all day and make fun of everything?”
“At least try. Come on,” Marco said, taking Gia’s hand.
She let him tug her along toward the midway.
“Ever had a guy win you a stuffed monkey?” he asked, grinning.
A slight smile curved along her lips. “Ever had a rocker chick win you a stuffed dog?”
“Can’t say that I have,” he said, laughing. “After you.” He released her hand and bowed. “Let’s try this one.” He gestured to one of the booths.
The carny manning the booth looked to be about ninety, but Gia suspected him to be much younger. Yikes. Is that the path I was headed for?
He grinned at her, showing her his missing bottom teeth. “Hey, hey, hey, little missy, I’ll bet your boyfriend wants to win you a prize, am I right?”
“Actually,” she said. “I thought I’d win a prize for him.”
“You don’t want your man to feel emasculated, do you? Give him a turn,” the carny said. “He looks like he could get the job done right.”
“Oh, no,” Marco said. “This I’d like to see. Go on, Gia. I dare you to shoot out the star. I’m an expert marksman, and I can’t even do it.” He grinned widely, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Think I can’t do it?” she said, relishing the challenge. “What will I get if I win?”
“I’ll buy you an ice cream cone,” Marco said.
“Is that all?” she said.
“It’s a start. Do it.” He lifted his chin toward the hawker, before retrieving some cash from his pocket. “Here,” he said to the man.
Gia picked up the BB gun. She lifted it and took one shot, noting where the BB punched a hole. “Nice,” she said to the carny. “You bent the barrel. Guess you count on people being dumb.”
He spluttered a protest, but Gia cut him off.
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone needs an angle to their game.” She lifted the gun again, squinted, and shot a circle around the outside of the star.
It fell away, fluttering to the ground.
The carny gaped at her.
She crooked her finger at Marco and cupped her hand around her mouth until he bent his head.
“I had an...encounter, shall we say, with a carnival games hacker,” she whispered.
Marco leaned back and gave her a wicked grin. “Okay, hot shot, the day has begun. Think I won’t top you next time?”
“Top me?” She blinked, picturing something besides a carnival game.
A flare of heat passed between them. Gia’s eyes met Marco’s in an unblinking, confused-as-hell gaze. Then, she got her wits about her. He’s been hired to help you sober up, dummy.
“You can certainly try,” she said, adding a wink. “Now where’s my stuffed dog? I want that one.” She to a red and orange fluffy looking pooch. “He looks manly enough for this guy.”
The carny pulled the dog down with a stick, extending it to her with a flourish. “Come back anytime, sweetheart. You’re good for business.”
Gia handed the dog to Marco, grinning. When she spun around, she saw a crowd of onlookers.
They applauded, eyes wide with recognition.
“It’s Ms. Styx!” someone called.
“I thought so,” said another. “I recognized the star on the back of her head.”
Gia’s heart hammered, powering her skittery eyes. She forced a smile on her face, grateful when Marco took her hand.
“Isn’t she awesome?” he said to the throng. “Now let us enjoy our day.” He flashed his easy smile at everyone and led her away. “Maybe a hat’s in order. Your hair color is pretty distinct.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Gia agreed. “Let’s find a stand.”
Once she had a pink girly cowboy hat on her head, hiding her red, white, and blue hair, she felt less visible. “How about a game of Guitar Hero? You be the drummer.”
“Talk about unfair,” he protested.
“Not really. I suck at guitar. And, I’m giving you the advantage after all. Who’s the kick-ass drummer here?” This time, she grabbed his hand, well aware of the sizzling heat between them. “Let’s go.”
By the time they’d finished Guitar Hero, ring toss, and a few silly rides, like the Haunted House and the merry-go-round, Gia’s heart felt lighter than it had in years.
“I’m really having a good time,” she said, as she finished her promised ice cream cone. She crunched down on the maple waffle cone, savoring the last remnants of dark chocolate cherry.
“I’m glad.” Marco finished his soda and tossed the wax paper cup into a trash can.
She lifted an imaginary camera before her eye. “Hold that pose. I want to remember today.” She pressed the imaginary shutter. “Got you.”
“You could always use your mobile phone.” Marco grinned at her.
“I could, but I left it in the car. Besides, I’d want to blow this picture way up so I could make a poster out of it.” She ducked her head, feeling embarrassed. “For inspiration…to stay away from the drink.”
He studied her for a second.
She stared back at him, her cheeks and other parts of her body growing hot.
“Here,” he said, thrusting the stuffed dog her way. “Watch Fido. I’ll be right back. I’ve got to visit the loo.”
As his retreating back disappeared around the corner, Gia felt naked—and not in a fun way. She sat on a park bench near the merry-go-round, watching the colorful ponies, giraffes, and lions parade past her.
“Hey, look! We found her. Can you believe that?” a male voice said.
Gia lifted her gaze to see what’s his fuck with the bleached-blond, spikey hair and his twit of a girlfriend.
“Uh, hey,” she said, raising her hand in a listless greeting.
The guy pulled a silver flask from his back pocket. “Want some?”
“Nah,” Gia said, shaking her head. “I don’t think you’re supposed to have that in here. Little kids and all...”
“Whatever,” spiked-hair said. He lifted the flask to his lips and took a long swig.
Gia swallowed, noting his pleasure.
“We’ll share,” the brunette said, extending her own flask. “Come on.”
“No, thanks.” Gia got to her feet. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“We’ve been practicing. Want to see?” the brunette cooed.
“Practicing what?” Gia said, her face crumpled in confusion. Where are you, Brutus?
“Kissing? Remember the kissing lesson?” the guy said.
“Sure,” Gia said, thinking, no clue.
Spiked-hair clumsily seized the brunette’s face, grinding his mouth against hers.
Gia winced. I sure as hell never taught them that move. Looks painful.
When they finished, they pulled apart, eying her expectantly.
Gia gave them two thumbs up. She scanned the crowd for Marco.
“Want to try us out?” the brunette asked.
“Nah. No, thanks. I’m with someone,” Gia said, backing away from them.
“Pity. Have a drink. Just one,” spiked-hair said.
It was so natural to take the flask. So easy. It was like breathing or brushing her teeth. Before she knew it, she held the flask in her hand. She tipped it toward her lips. The cheap booze these two carried burned a ghastly path down her gullet, making her eyes water.
“Gia!” Marco said sharply from next to her. “Care to explain?”
The flask clattered to the ground, spilling the remaining alcohol.
“It was nothing. Merely a sip.” Her heart pounded in the same familiar way it seemed to do lately.
Marco’s face told her everything she needed to know about how “nothing” the act had been.