Page 50 of Gunner

Looking about the two-bedroom cabin, I spotted what looked like a phone hanging on the wall in the kitchen. Walking over to it, I picked up the handle thingy and frowned.

“What the hell?”

Staring at the clear circular contraption with finger holes cut out, I noticed each hole had a number.

Huh?

“Old-fashioned. Whatever works.” I muttered, only to stop when I realized I didn’t know Gunner’s phone number. They were all on my phone. I never memorized them. I was so used to clicking on faces, I never bothered to learn the actual numbers.

Well shit.

Pulling up a stool, I took a seat, nibbling on my thumbnail.

This couldn’t be that hard.

I knew in case of an emergency to call 9-1-1 but this wasn’t an emergency. So, they were out. I didn’t know how long I sat there when a thought popped up in my head.

“I could message him!”

Getting to my feet, I searched high and low for Gunner’s laptop, only to find it in the bathroom. Didn’t want to know why it was in there, but hey...at least I found it.

Powering it up, I waited impatiently as the system booted itself, drumming my nails on the countertop. When the home screen finally appeared, I clicked on the internet tab and groaned.

“Ewe, gross! Porn? Really?”

Quickly clicking on a new tab, I logged into my Facebook account and sighed. I hadn’t friended him. In fact, I hadn’t friended anyone from Rosewood. Not even my mom and dad. Closing out of Facebook, I opened a search tab and typed in Sons of Hell Motorcycle Club, praying the club had a website.

And low and behold, it did!

Smiling, I skimmed the home page and found a number to the club. Hopping to my feet, I walked over to the old phone and carefully touched the numbers, typing in the club’s main number.

Only nothing happened.

Frowning, I picked up the handle thingy only to hear a horn like noise beeping annoyingly. Putting the thing back in its metal cradle, I picked it up again and heard a dial tone.

Success!

Punching in the numbers again, I realized that the circular thing moved. That was new.

“What in the world?”

Trying not to move it, I touched the numbers again, only to hear that annoying sound again. Quickly hanging up the handle, I sighed. “It’s not rocket science, Sarah. It’s just an ancient fucking phone. If old people can use it, so can I. Just think.”

Two hours later, I was sitting in the middle of the living room floor, crying, when Gunner walked in the front door and stopped dead in his tracks as he scanned his once clean-living room. Upon seeing me, he carefully closed the door. “Uh, what is going on?”

And that’s when I let him have it.

“It’s all your fault! I’ve got no job and no money. I can’t even go home because Daddy kicked me out. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he took my credit card and my phone, forcing me to use that thing,” I shouted, pointing to the useless phone on the wall. “And it doesn’t work! I tried calling you, but I couldn’t, and you have porn on your computer.”

“Babydoll, breathe,” he said, walking over to sit next to me on the floor. Wrapping his arms around me, I burrowed into him as he lightly rubbed my back.

“I’ve got no one. They don’t want me anymore,” I cried.

“That’s not true. Your parents are just upset. They will get over it soon. Your mom doesn’t hold a grudge. Well, not for long at least. It’s your dad I’m worried about.”

Sniffing, I looked up at Gunner. “Daddy said you and I have to figure this out ourselves.”

“Figure what out?”