Life Before Damaged, Vol. 9: The Ferro Family (5 page)

N
O
!

Rapidly, I climb onto the bale of hay under the window, giving me extra leverage. I have one leg in, one leg out when Erin pulls me back. “Gina, don’t go in there. You’ll die.”

I turn toward my friend and practically growl in her face, “So could Peter. I’m going in and you are NOT stopping me. I have to, Erin. I love him.”

Erin takes a second and nods. "Right. Okay, then. Let's save your sexy man-beast." She backs up a step and lets me go in. I land on the ground and assess the situation. The fire has continued to spread, and the heat is unbearable. Huge clouds of black smoke billow through the roof and reach into the sky.

I run to Pete’s side and put one of his arms around my shoulders. I attempt to lift him up, but he’s too heavy.

“You’re not THAT strong you dumb twit. Hey, nice tat by the way.” I look up. Erin is standing in front of me, hands on her hips, smiling. The ceiling above us creaks and her smile morphs into a frown. She runs to Pete’s other side, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders. We drag him toward the window.

"What now, Erin? How are we supposed to get him out there? The window is too high."

"Climb out first, Gee. Once you're outside, reach down for his hands and pull. I'll push him from the bottom. I promise not to grope his ass too much." She smiles crookedly at me.

I'm pulling, and Erin is inside, pushing. Our progress is slow, and I worry a piece of stray glass will dig into his belly, but that’s not our biggest problem. He’s too big and I’m too weak.

Erin grunts and yells, “Fuck he’s heavy! What’s he packing, anyway? A whale’s dick? And what’s in that nutsack of his, horse sperm? Damn! He should go on a diet or something.”

My arms are burning. I feel tiny muscle fibers snapping. Pete's hips clear the windowsill, and we finally manage to get Pete out of the building. His limp body rolls off of the bale of hay, onto the ground. I sit next to him, resting his head on my lap and gently stroking the wet hair from his brow. Erin follows shortly after, sitting next to us.

“Thanks.” It seems like an understatement, and there’s still an inferno at our backs. I look down at Peter and wonder if I’ll ever see those sparkling blue eyes again or hear that deep sexy voice.

“No prob.” She sucks in fresh air and then coughs up way too much phlegm. “Sexy.” She wipes her mouth on the back of her wrist.

I sit at Peter’s head, trying not to cry. “He’s hurt. He could have died in there.”

Erin stands upright again, and when she can speak, she replies, “Yes, he could have, but he didn’t. You’re not going to lose him. Not tonight. Not because of this. Now, let’s drag him farther out. This place could come crashing down at any moment, and we don't want to be anywhere near here when it does. It’ll be the world’s biggest fireball.”

She points to a clearing a couple feet away, and we drag Pete’s limp body away from the barn, setting him down gently on his back.

I bend at the waist, my hands propped on my knees, trying to catch my breath. "How did you guys know where to find me?" I’m panting so hard that I start coughing again.

Erin glances at me with a look I've never seen before on her, guilt and shame plastered across her flawless face. "When I came home to find you gone, I figured you'd gone to see Philip at the club, and I panicked. I didn't know what else to do, so I called Ferro. It frightened me to think of what you were potentially walking into. Philip was so angry when you left him. I knew what these guys were into, I just never thought they'd do anything like this."

"They wanted to gang rape me, beat me up and burn me. You knew that?" My shoulders square off as I’m ready to strangle her on the spot.

"Not exactly, but I had an idea of some of it.” She won’t look at me and wrings her hands behind a spattering of stars. Her face is illumined by dancing flames, defining the slender face I’ve trusted for years. “I tried to tell you to stay away from him, but you didn't listen. I didn’t want to tell you this part.”

“Why? Because you thought I wouldn’t believe you?”

“No.”

“Then you must have thought that I’d be okay. Why else—”

“Gee! Shut up! I knew you wouldn’t be okay.” Her knuckles are turning white as she strangles her hands. “You don’t know all of it.”

“Then tell me! Why the hell did my best friend know I was walking into a gang rape and not say anything? Did you think it was funny? Did you—”

Erin is trembling as she screams. “NO! Gina, it was me. I was supposed to be their date for the evening. I was supposed to be there, not you.” Tears streak down her cheeks as she speaks.

“Erin?” I step toward her, shocked. I lift my hand to touch her arm, but she jerks away.

Erin doesn’t look up. She works her jaw as she wraps her arms around her middle and holds on tight. “I had to cancel with them, because I finally got a meeting with the art gallery. I'm guessing that's when Philip texted you.”

“How? Why? Erin, oh my God.” I want to cry. Mortification, shame, and fear all collide within me. How could she do this and me not see it? How did I not know?

“Philip and I have been friends forever. When I left my family, it wasn't easy. I struggled a lot, but I didn't want to admit it to you. I didn't want you to think less of me. Some months have been tougher than others. When Philip saw I was struggling, he hooked me up with some people his Dad knew. It was just paid sex with a bunch of his buddies, only a couple of times, and they were never violent."

I want to point out that it's not just paid sex. That it’s prostitution, but I don’t. I can’t hear those words come out of my mouth, so I swallow them back. “Why didn't you tell me?"

Erin points to Peter, who's still unconscious on the ground. "Because you were going to marry this idiot and I thought you were too much of a goody-two-shoes to consider doing anything with another man. It was innocent flirting, and it made you feel so good about yourself. I couldn't take that away from you, not after what Anthony had done to you. Philip really did care for you, and you needed to see that you were worthy of that kind of affection. I swear I didn't know they'd try to hurt anyone. That's not how they work. They just pay to have a good time with consenting girls. When Pete and I got to the club, it was too late, they were stuffing you into the trunk of a car and taking off. We followed them here. There were too many of them, so we hid and waited until they left."

My mouth is hanging open. I shake my head and ask carefully, "That’s not what I meant. Why didn't you tell me things were that bad? Why didn’t you ask me for help? I could have helped you. This could have been you tonight."

"None of them loved me, so I doubt it. Phil had it really bad for you. That'll drive any man to insanity. And besides, I would have been willing. I'm guessing you put up a bit of a fight to end up banged up like that? You look awful, but I'm proud of you, Gina."

I smile at her comment and look down to Pete. I sit down slowly on the ground next to him and stroke a strand of hair from his forehead with my finger. His chest is rising and falling slowly. My fingers trace the curves of his face, along his jaw and across his lips.

Erin's voice breaks my contemplation. I'd almost forgotten she was here. "You should have seen him tonight. Pete was a total wreck. I think he really cares for you, Gee."

“He told me he loves me."

"Did you say it back?"

"No, and now it’s too late."

Erin wipes the tears off her face, leaving streaks in the soot. Her hair looks like it got stuck in a vacuum cleaner, but she’s still grinning. "It's never too late, babe."

E
rin runs
off into the darkness to get the car, leaving me alone with Peter. The light of the burning barn flickers around us, casting eerie shadows on the ground as it echoes the sound of the cracking wood.

I kneel next to him, my trembling hands shaking his shoulders gently. “Wake up, Peter. Please, it’s me. Gina. You have to wake up, please!” Shaking his shoulders doesn’t work. I slap his cheeks lightly, but Pete’s body remains motionless. He looks so peaceful.

It’s both beautiful and frightening at the same time. He’s usually so full of life, the fighter. He shouldn't be helpless like this. My fingers gently trace the curves of his face. I trace his eyebrows, imagining their usual mocking expression, to his cheeks, where his adorable dimple appears when he smiles, and across to the lips that have kissed me in ways I’ve never been kissed before.

Fear oozes through my body as I realize he might never wake up. That guy at the rave never woke up. I become frantic, shaking him more vigorously. "Wake up, Pete!"

I can’t lose him, not now, not after everything we’ve been through. My eyes start to burn, and his face blurs in a film of tears.

Trying to blink my tears away, they manage to escape and roll down my cheeks. I comb my fingers through his hair, brushing dark strands away from his forehead. I touch him gently at the place where the beam hit him. My fingers feel something warm and tacky. When I pull my hand away, it’s stained red. The hair at the back of his head is sticky with blood and it terrifies me. A sob escapes my lips.

I bend down and place one small, trembling kiss on his mouth, feeling his warmth. He doesn’t move. Peter remains still. I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps I was hoping he’d return the kiss, wrapping his arms around me. He’s unconscious. In the real world, kisses don't magically wake people up from whatever is ailing them.

I lower my body down on top of his, my ear resting over his beating heart. I place a hand over his firm chest. His heart is beating strong and fast, and his breathing is slow, deep and steady--all good signs.

I know he can’t hear me, but with a shaky voice, I start talking to him anyway. I need to say it before it’s too late. Life is fleeting and every second counts. I can’t assume there will be time later. Sometimes, later never comes.

“I’m so sorry, Peter. I should have left with you tonight, but I didn’t know what to do. It was stupid of me, I know, I just didn’t want to believe you. I was afraid you’d hurt me again. I should have listened. I may lose you before I even get a chance to say that--”

I swallow the dry lump in my throat. The words get stuck. Trepidation at being rejected once more is playing tug of war with my words. I can't say it out loud. Every time I’ve given a piece of myself to Pete, he’s returned it, battered and broken. I’ve had too many regrets over the past few months, and I can’t let this be one of them.

“I love you, Peter.” Saying it out loud, feels liberating, like I’ve been held back by heavy chains, pulling tightly around my neck which suddenly vanish. It’s bittersweet because all of this is too little, too late. It’s opened up a dam, and the words keep coming out and I can’t stop them. I just want him to hold me, but his arms lay still along the sides of his body.

My voice is a scratchy mix of sobs and words, sad and happy and desperate. My fingers clutch at his shirt, holding on to him as if my life depends on it. “I love you so much. I have for a long time. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. I believe you, and I want us to try and see if we can be happy together. I want to show you what it feels like to be loved by someone. You deserve to have someone love you and, if you want, I can be that person. Just, please, wake up and stay with me. Don’t leave me, Peter. Please, wake up.”

I rest my chin on his chest, looking up. I need to see his face. I blink the tears away and blink again. I sniffle back my runny nose. My eyesight is blurry and my eye is swollen, but I see something that gives me hope. His lashes flutter as his eyes move ever so slightly.

I want to call out his name and kiss him, but the faintest ghost of a smile lines his lips, quirking up to one side. A crooked, arrogant, know-it-all smirk blossoms, making his irresistible dimple appear.

A mixture of immense relief, giddy happiness, mortification, and frustrating irritation all fight for first place in this battle of emotions. I can’t believe he’s smirking! It’s that look that makes me want to both kiss him and strangle him all at once.

“Hey Gina.”

I blink. “You?” I stutter and shake my head. He was faking? I can’t believe he pretended to be unconscious. The ass!

Among my sobs, a laugh manages to escape. He's the most perfect, beautiful, presumptuous, sexy, aggravating ASS! Here I am, pouring my heart out to him and he’s just lying here, making me look like a moron while I confess my feelings to him. I hate him, and I love him, and everything is perfect in the world again.

I push myself up and straddle his hips. My hands swat at his chest, hard. "You're such a jerk, Ferro! I take it back, you freaking douche! I take it all back. Every. Single. Word." I'm half-laughing, half-scolding, tears of joy coming down while I slap his chest repeatedly.

Peter starts to laugh and his hands go to my waist. I squeal when he rolls us over, pressing my back to the ground. I’m pinned down by a firm body of toned muscle, caged by two strong arms on either side of me, hypnotized by the most wicked, sexy sneer and the bluest of eyes. I bite down on my lower lip to stop from smiling so big.

"So, I'm a douche, am I?"

"Yes, you are." I try to pout and his eyes soften into a look so tender that I instantly melt inside. He gently wipes a tear away from my right cheek, just under my throbbing eye. The light of the flickering fire beside us is doing wonderful things to his soot-stained face.

"Hey, you." His voice is just as soft as his gaze.

"Hello." I'm suddenly shy, not sure how I should act around him anymore. This is all so new to us, and my head is still a mess, trying to come to grips with everything that has happened in the past twenty-four hours.

Peter dips his head down and drops a small, gentle kiss on my heavy eyelid.

"So, do you still take it back?" Peter lowers himself again and covers my face with light kisses. They travel down my cheek and along my jaw, making it hard to concentrate. He knows what effect he has on me, but his cockiness gives me courage.

"Maybe. It depends. Do you?" I don't even know what I'm saying. Words come out of my mouth on their own.

Pete is nibbling my neck, just under my ear, which makes thinking nearly impossible. He works his way back up to my mouth and, with his lips barely touching mine, says, "I meant every word I said outside the club. I'm not taking any of them back."

With our lips still brushing lightly together, I smile. "Neither do I."

Pete returns the smile and presses his lips onto mine. The kiss deepens and something shifts. Pete lowers his body onto mine, and I wrap my legs around his waist, keeping him close to me. The barn comes crashing to the ground with a thunderous boom, making us jump. The heat is almost too much to bear. Peter looks back down at me. His gaze is as intense as the flames, and it ignites something deep within me.

The emotional rush of the night’s events overwhelms me. Adrenaline does weird things to people and I still have a ton of it coursing through my veins. The way he’s looking at me makes me hot all over. I spread my hands across his chest, over his shirt and dig my nails in.

Pete’s gaze narrows as he looks down on me with devouring eyes. He lets out a sexy sound from deep within, as his lips come crashing down on mine.

The moment is surreal. He’s propped on one forearm, his free hand sliding rapidly along my side, past my hip, and back up again. His hand slides up, cupping my breast like he can’t touch me fast enough. My hands fly to his hair. He jumps, and I realize I’ve touched him where he got hit on the head, but that doesn’t stop him--or me.

He grinds his hips into mine, and I let out a moan in his mouth, loving the feeling it causes in my core when he pushes down on me. He responds by biting my lower lip and smiling. It's like the kiss in Central Park, but so much more.

My hands travel to his back, and I claw at his shirt, damning it for being there. I want to feel his skin on mine. I reach down and find the hem of the garment before I run my hands up his back, feeling every ridge of every defined muscle under the pads of my fingers. Pete pushes against me once more, rubbing in the right places. He bites down on the sensitive skin of my neck making me gasp. My fingers flex, causing my nails to dig into his skin.

I’m out of control. I’ve never been this wild before. I'm a ball of lust, but this feels right. Two people who love each other, giving in to each other.

I claw at his back, and his free hand dips lower to unfasten my jeans. His mouth trails searing kisses down my left shoulder, making it sting. I suck in a small hiss through clenched teeth. The pain is excruciating and delicious at the same time. I press my hips up into him, wanting more pressure, more friction, more of everything.

My hands slide down his sides, loving the feel of him beneath my hands. Bright lights flash before us followed by a deafening honk of a horn. I quickly release my grip on Pete and place both hands over my ears. Pete removes his hands from me just as fast and looks down, startled. A car door opens and the sound of footsteps crunching on rough terrain grows louder.

“You two better stop that now. At this point, I don’t care which way you swing, Gee, or how long we’ve known each other--I’ll turn this lovey-dovey reunion into a three-way real fast. Christ on a cracker that's hot!” Erin. Always so eloquent.

Pete and I turn our heads toward her, breathing hard, our chests pushing against each other with every breath. All we see is a black silhouette, standing in between us and the glaring headlights.

Pete looks down at me with a glazed look on his face. “She’s serious about the three-way thing. You realize that?”

I laugh, a bit stunned at my lascivious behavior. “Oh, believe me, I know.” Pete appears stunned by my answer.

"What have you been up to these past couple of weeks?" Pete shakes his head at me in disbelief. He probably thinks that a three-way with Erin is on my been there, done that bucket list of crazy stuff to do, marked finished by a big-ass check.

"Saving myself for you, I suppose?" His eyes study my face for a minute, then fill with remorse. He pushes off of me quickly and extends a hand to help me up. I wrap my arms around his waist, wanting him close, but he removes them gently.

In my ear, he whispers, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that just now." He kisses my temple and walks away leaving me completely confused.