A Twist of Love Read online

  “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.

  Chapter 10

  Gia raced to keep up with Marco’s long-legged stride as he wove through the light-filled midway.

  “Slow your roll, Brutus. Stop. Wait for me. Come on, stop.” The rotgut those idiots gave her, coupled with her two-week sobriety, made her head swim. “Don’t be mad at me. Come on! I slipped up, all right? It won’t happen again!” She dodged to avoid a stroller complete with screaming child. “Those two are the assholes I was with on the night this whole recovery thing started. I thought they were going to try to manipulate me. I thought they had some dirt on me or something,” she said, letting a make-believe excuse fly free. “I blacked out the whole event, remember? Who knows what I did or said that night?”

  Marco did an abrupt about-face. “Stop the bullshit, Gia.”

  She nearly collided with him, dropping Fido in the process.

  “Girl is handed drink. Girl downs drink. It’s as simple as that.” He clasped her shoulders with his large hands and looked at her, his expression unreadable.

  The indecipherable intensity in his eyes made her want to pull away. Either that, or burst into tears.

  “Look. I’m not mad, all right? Maybe a little disappointed, but not angry. Fuck ups are part of recovery.” He pursed his lips, and then said, “I didn’t think it would happen so soon, though. More like, I didn’t think it would happen today.”

  “Okay, so we’re in agreement,” Gia said. “It was one little mistake. It won’t happen again.” Her body begged to disagree, already craving the alcoholic high. “We haven’t tried out the Tilt-a-whirl. A British Tilt-a-Whirl probably goes round and round in a stately manner.” She smiled. “We can sip tea while we ride. What do you think? Want to have a go?”

  He almost smiled...almost. But the smile faded like the sun slipping over the horizon.

  “No, thanks. We should leave. It’s getting late.” He bent to retrieve the red and gold dog, brushing the dust from his fake fur. “We can grab a bite on the way home.”

  “Aw, but I wanted to have greasy carnival food for dinner. I’ve been looking forward to it all day. Chorizo corn dogs with fried pickles. How can you pass those up?” She felt like a little kid as she begged to stay.

  Wait...I feel like my little sister. She used to whine and wheedle her way into one last meal, one last ride, one last anything. Gia bit her lips as the memories of Shauna threatened to fly free.

  Shauna was the light to Gia’s dark. She made a room glow with her presence alone. No light required, Gia thought with a sniff. Just add Shauna. Her mood started to shift into reverse, heading down a dark ravine.

  And then I left her. I moved out and left her. I abandoned her.

  Marco stared at her, his head cocked.

  “What?” she snapped. “You want to go? Let’s go.”

  She turned, ready to stalk toward their escape sedan and ride back in shame.

  “Wait. What just happened?” Marco grabbed her arm.

  “Keep your hands off of me,” Gia said, slapping his forearm.

  He pulled his hand away, putting his palms up. “Care to share? Your face got pretty dark for a moment.”

  She squinted. Her tough girl facade took over. “It was nothing. Some old bullshit. Now let’s go. I fucked up and ruined the day. Let’s leave it at that.”

  Marco studied her for several, long, excruciating minutes before turning on his heel. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

  Once they were t
ucked in the car, with Marco driving this time, he said, “You know, one of the hardest things for an alcoholic to learn is to take responsibility for his or her actions. That’s when the ‘poor me’ party starts to sing.”

  Gia sat glowering out the window, her arms crossed over her chest. Her mood matched the sky, absent of light and full of clouds. “He or she doesn’t feel like talking at the moment.”

  “Suit yourself,” Marco said. “But I’ll bet his or her ears still work.”

  She rolled her eyes but afforded a glance in his direction. “Are you always so fucking reasonable? I mean, is that your M.O.? Is that what you trained for in the Marines?”

  “No. I trained to protect our country. Being reasonable is second nature. I’m a reasonable guy. But I have other qualities, too.” He flashed a teasing smile.

  “Like what? I’ll bet you’re good at sports...loves to cook...is a romantic at heart...likes walks on the beach...shit like that.” She ticked the qualities off on her fingers, wondering why she cared.

  “Let’s see,” Marco said, playing along. “Yes, yes, yes, no.”

  “You don’t like walks on the beach?” Gia asked, as her sullen mood lifted. “Me, neither. I tend to hear a drum beat in the waves, and I don’t usually take my kit in the sand.”

  “Makes sense.” He smiled. “I like to run on the beach, not walk. I like to hike. Love outdoor kinds of things. But also love to go clubbing. And I dig concerts, especially the kind with sexy, kick-ass drummers.”

  Gia supposed he meant to be all light and playful, but his words did strange things to her insides. She didn’t respond, hugging herself tightly. Getting any kind of positive attention in the relationship department didn’t sit well with her. Her sister had deserved positive attention. Me? Not so much. Her gaze drifted back outside the car. The sky had completely swallowed the sun. Save for a passing car or two, they were out in the land of nothing, for sure.

  “So, let’s say, for the record, I did start drinking again. What would happen?”

  “Regarding what? Me? Like, would I be upset?” His face appeared grim in the shadows of the car.

  “That’s one aspect. Would you be upset and what would happen to me?” She kept her gaze trained on the nothing outside the window.

  He drummed the steering wheel with his fingers, cogs in his head whirling. “I’ve, uh...I’ve learned to not get attached to results with the people I serve as a companion. There are far too many failures in this work. I’m good at what I do. But it depends on the person’s commitment to change. How badly you—the rhetorical you, not you personally—it depends on how much you want to change. As for what will happen to you, I sure can’t say. You’d probably pick up drinking in a heartbeat. You might feel guilty. You might tell yourself all kinds of things about how you’re trying, how hard it is to change, you’re different, alcohol doesn’t affect you. You know, stories like that. The mind of an alcoholic is pretty devious. A friend of mine told me it’s one of the only diseases where the person doesn’t think they’re diseased. They think they’re fine...they’ve got this. They can kick it at any time.”

  Gia considered his words, feeling busted already. And I only had one stupid drink. “Would I have to go through detox again? And will it be the same hell?”

  “Yes,” Marco said simply. “But that’s only if you want to stop drinking.”

  “How badly do you think I’m committed to sobriety?” She chewed her lip, still staring out the window.

  “That’s a question for you. How much do you want to stop?” Marco asked.

  “I want to know your opinion. Tell me.” She brought her gaze to face him.

  “Honestly? I think you’re only doing this for Dante. I think you want to prove to him that you can make it and stay in the band.” He kept his eyes pinned to the road. “That’s not enough to truly make a change.”

  Gia felt stabbed in the heart. She glowered, burning holes in the window with her dark gaze. She made an O with her lips and blew air against the glass, and then wiped the condensation fog off with her sleeve. “I guess it’s not for you to say, is it?”

  “I told you that already,” Marco said. “Do you want to quit drinking?”

  She thought for a moment, her foot tapping like a drumstick. She considered the delirium, the sweats, the panic...the feeling she might die of detox. Pure, utter hell. She thought of the secret locked in her heart.

  Finally, she took a deep breath and said, “Yes. But I’m afraid.”

  “Of breaking your commitment like you did today?” Marco’s gaze slid her way.

  She shook her head, refusing to comment. This whole detox process was already causing her secrets—things she never wanted to face--to claw free.

  They continued on in silence, winding through the hills toward Gray house. The weather took a sharp turn in the stormy direction. Rain battered the windshield. The wipers made a squeak, squeak, squeak against the glass as they powered through the downpour.

  “Good thing we left when we did. This is a wicked storm,” Marco said.

  Gia jerked, surprised to hear his voice after so many miles of silence. “Uh, yeah.”

  The sedan made a sudden coughing noise, shuddered, and then the engine cut out.

  “What the...?” Marco said as they drifted to a stop. “There’s plenty of petrol. I made sure to fuel up. What gives?”

  “How should I know? I’m hardly the mechanic type. That seems like something in your wheelhouse.” She huffed out a sigh.

  He reached into the back seat for his jacket. “Damn. No hat to keep the rain off my head.”

  “Here,” Gia said, reaching for the floorboards. “Try this.” She thrust the pink cowboy hat at him.

  “Uh, no,” Marco said. “Not my color.”

  “Suit yourself,” Gia said, with a shrug.

  He glanced at the driving rain. “Give it here.” He grabbed it from her and plunked it on his head. It looked like a toy on his larger-than-hers head. “There.”

  She took one look and burst out laughing in spite of her dark mood.

  “Perfect! I need a picture.” She retrieved her phone and pressed the button to power it on. “Damn it! Mine’s dead. Let me have yours.”

  “Hell, no.” Marco took one look out the window and said, “Here goes.”

  When he opened the door, the sounds of wind and weather filled the car. He swiftly exited and slammed the door shut, making her jump. Once he stood at the front of the sedan, he lifted the hood.

  She peered through the window, but she couldn’t see a thing.

  Finally, the hood closed and Marco hustled to the driver’s seat. He slid into the seat soaking wet, his face lined with pink streaks from the cheap hat.

  “It wasn’t much help,” he said, handing it back to her. “But thanks.” He pulled his phone from the glove box and thumbed it on. “God damn it,” he growled. “No signal. None. Fuck. And yours is dead, eh?”

  “Dead as a doornail,” she said. “What do we do now? Sleep in the car? Wait for someone to drive by?”

  “Seen anyone in the last hour or so?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, a sullen teenage mood overtaking her.

  “Right,” he said. “We walk.”

  “What? I’m not going out in that.” She pointed out the windshield.

  “Okay, we wait for the rain to let up and then we walk,” Marco said in his damned reasonable voice.

  “Great idea, Brutus. You’ve got the best ideas.” She slouched in her seat.

  “Have any better ideas?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, pouting. “Not me. I’m only a screw-up.”

  Marco rolled his eyes. “Stop, Gia.”

  “Make me. Better yet, let’s go out and get really wet. Why not?” She pushed open her door and launched herself into the rain.

  She took off at a sprint. The rain came down so hard, she couldn’t tell if Marco followed. Don’t know, don’t care. I deserve whatever fate befalls me.

  Chapter 11
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  Gia veered off the road into a field, heedless of what kind of livestock might be huddled in the dark. She stumbled through grass and mud, getting soaked to the bone. At the top of the hill, jagged stripes of lighting illuminated her surroundings. There appeared to be a rocky outcropping up the incline, from what she could tell through the driving rain. She kept to the grass and mud.

  “Gia!” Marco’s voice thundered in the distance. “Gia!” The beam of his flashlight swept in an arc in her direction but didn’t quite reach her. “Gia!”

  “Come on, Mr. Marine, show me your stuff,” she muttered as she hustled in the opposite direction. Her teeth began to chatter. She tugged her useless leather jacket around her. Stupid thing’s only for show.

  Some kind of animal snorted. Whatever it was, it stomped its foot a yard or so away. One stomp. Two stomps. Another snort.

  “Shit,” she muttered, coming to a halt. “Don’t animals give you some sort of warning signal if you get too close?” She squinted into the darkness. “Hey, Mr. Cow or whatever you are. Only passing through, No threat to you or your family.”

  More stomps and something like a hoof slogging through mud followed.

  “Brutus?” Gia yelled as softly as she could, facing the snorts.

  “Gia? Gia, where are you?” Marco called.

  She glanced over her shoulder, grateful for Marco’s flashlight beam indicating his progress “Over here. Playing with a cow or something. He seems pissed. He keeps stomping his hoof at me.” Her teeth kept up the chattering noise, out of control of her wishes.

  A gunshot blasted overhead.

  Gia’s hands flew over her head in protection.

  The bovine or whatever it was, bolted, stampeding away from her.

  “Shit,” Gia said, sinking to her knees. “It could have bowled me over. Nice move, marine.”

  Marco barreled up behind her. Holding the small flashlight between his teeth, he put his hands under her armpits and lifted her to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you back to the car.” Once she was standing, he grabbed the light from his mouth and shone it on the wet grass as he tugged her along.