Devotion (Central Cities #1)

Chapter 10

10

The following Saturday, my eightieth day as Gabriel’s partner, I return from my weekly visit with my family, trying not to cry.

It’s a struggle, but I manage to greet a still-working Gabriel like normal, ask if he needs anything, and then take a bath. I cry quietly in the tub for a long time, and I’m hoping that’s enough to get me through the night without any further breakdowns.

I don’t have any privacy outside the bathroom. If I cry in bed, Gabriel will hear.

He’s still at his desk when I come out in my nightgown. I keep my face turned away from him as I shut off the lights in the room except his desk light and bedside lamp. He told me early on that I should do that when he’s working late into the night. He only needs light at his desk and by his bed, and there’s no reason to disturb my sleep with the overhead lights.

I’d prefer it to be completely dark tonight, mostly to hide my face.

“Everything okay?” he asks as I’m heading toward my window seat. He’s glanced up from his papers.

“Yes, of course. I’m ready for bed.”

“Okay. Everything all right with your family?” His tone is casual, and it’s not an unusual question. He’s always been considerate about my family, and he asks about them regularly on my return from my visits.

“Yes.” It’s a lie, but what else can I say? That everything has fallen apart for my family in the space of one day?

He doesn’t say anything else as I climb into my alcove and pull a blanket over me. I roll onto my side so my back is toward him, and I keep my body motionless even as everything inside me is silently weeping.

I open my pretty little music box and let the music play through once to comfort me. The tinkling sound of the now-familiar notes makes tears slide down my face.

I don’t sleep. There’s no way I can. It’s all I can do to keep from sobbing out loud. I manage for at least an hour, and Gabriel doesn’t say anything else. I hear papers rustling and the slight scratching of his pen on a page from his notebook.

He’s clearly absorbed in work and not noticing anything off about me, so that’s good.

His distraction allows me to relax slightly, but that’s a mistake. A sob rips through me unexpectedly. I manage to stifle the sound, but my shoulders shake a few times.

“Damn it, Jess!”

Gabriel’s sharp tone startles me so much I pop up into a sitting position, letting my legs drop over the edge.

He’s glaring at me sternly. “Tell me what the fuck is wrong.” When I do nothing but look at him, he adds curtly, “Right now.”

“It’s… n-nothing for you to worry about.”

“What the hell does that mean? Something is making you cry. You’ve been trying to hide it since you walked into the room. And I’m telling you in no uncertain terms that I need to know what it is.”

For some reason that’s the last straw. I burst into helpless tears.

He’s still seated at his desk, his chair turned in my direction. His expression is torn between frustration and concern as I shake and whimper and wipe at my face frantically in an attempt to regain my composure.

When I settle slightly, he asks in a moderated tone, “Has someone been mean to you? Spoken rudely to you? If they have, you need to tell me so I can address it.”

“No, no one has treated me badly. It’s not that.”

“Then tell me what it is.” His voice has taken on that quiet authority that’s impossible for me to defy.

So I reluctantly choke out, “It’s… It’s… My uncle died.”

“Oh.” He’s clearly surprised. Then his face softens visibly. “I’m sorry. You were close to him?”

“Yes. He lived with us. It was an accident at his worksite. It happened yesterday. A… a beam fell, and he couldn’t get out of the way of it.”

“That’s terrible. Do you need some extra time to spend with your family?”

“No, it’s not that. We’ll have the funeral next Saturday when everyone has time off. It’s bad enough for us to lose him. But… but he lived with us. With them. With my family. And so his credits went toward the house. Without him, they’re going to have to move.”

The reality hits me anew with a wave of deep grief and fear. I sob into my hands for a minute before I can get control of myself again.

Gabriel is subdued and thoughtful. He waits for me to lower my hands before he responds. “I see. So they’ll have to get a smaller place?”

I shake my head. I can’t speak for a minute, so I keep shaking it until I can form words again. “There’s nothing in the Capital they’ll be able to afford now. Rents are standardized, and they’re already at the lowest level. So either Carrie will have to start working or they’re going to have to move… move outside the wall.”

“What?” Gabriel’s eyes widen and his jaw tightens. “No! It’s too dangerous out there. They can’t possibly consider moving outside the wall.”

“I know!”

“So why can’t your sister work? I know it’s not ideal, but surely it’s better than your entire family moving.”

“She’s only thirteen. I know there are jobs she can do at that age, but they’re going to put her in a vulnerable position. She’s very pretty already. If she’s in a public-facing job, people will try to take advantage of her.”

“I see.”

“She’s always wanted to be a partner in the palace like me.”

“She does?”

“Yes. I wanted that for her. I wanted her to have as good a life as I have. But now—” I shake through more tears.

Something odd flickers on his face. Almost like surprise. But it’s gone before I can wrap my mind around it, and there are too many other things filling my mind to spend any time on it.

“Okay,” Gabriel says in a different tone. He flips over a couple of pages in his notebook and picks up his pen. “I think I understand the problem. What we need is for your family to earn more credits without Carrie having to work. Bring a chair over here so we can figure it out. I need to get some details on your family’s budget.”

I blink at him through tears. “What? Right now?”

“Of course right now. You’re upset right now, and that needs to be fixed. So come over here and start giving me numbers.”

Confused and emotional, I obediently drag a chair from the dining table over next to the desk where Gabriel is waiting expectantly with his pen poised over an empty page.

When I sit down, he jumps right into it. “So who works in your household? You do, of course.” He jots down the number of monthly credits that get sent home to my family for my role as partner. “And your father and mother both work?”

“Yes. And my grandfather.”

I give him the number of credits each of them earn and also what my uncle used to, and then we go over the rent due on their home and the other standard monthly budget items.

“So you see?” I say when we’ve added everything up. “They’re never going to be able to make it in that house without my uncle’s income.”

Gabriel is shaking his head at the numbers he’s written on the paper. “That’s an unforgivably high rent.”

“It’s a house behind walls in the Capital. It’s the cheapest rent possible here.”

“Yeah. I guess.” He looks vaguely annoyed, but I know him well now. I know that expression isn’t aimed at me. “Well, the easiest thing would be for me to give you a raise. Can I do that?”

“No. You can give me credits to use on purchases, but nothing more than the standard monthly rate can be sent to my family. That’s palace policy.” I’m so touched by the offer I lift a hand to my chest. It feels like my heart is straining toward him.

“Ridiculous. Well then, someone else’s income needs to increase.”

“But there’s no way. My family is labor class, and my dad is already earning the highest he’s allowed for his class. We’re lucky to even be living behind the wall. We never would have been able to do it at all if my uncle hadn’t lived with us.”

“Your father can read and write well. Correct?”

“Yes. He’s the one who taught me.” I’m frowning, confused by the inquiry.

“Can he speak Spanish?”

“Of course. We’ve always lived in the Capital. He’s fluent in both English and Spanish, and he can read and write in both languages.”

“What about math? Is he good with numbers?”

“Yes. They’re not his favorite thing, but he can do the basics plus fractions and percentages and long division and all that. He made me and Carrie learn too.”

“Okay.” Gabriel tears off the page and folds it, tucking it into the small pocket at the front of his notebook. “Let me work on this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me work on this. I’ll figure something out. Your family won’t have to move.” He sounds confident and matter-of-fact.

“But…” I don’t finish the sentence because it’s clear the conversation is over, but I really don’t understand what to think about all this.

Except Gabriel believes he can fix this overwhelming problem, and he doesn’t want me to worry about it anymore.

I don’t believe his claim. I’m not sure what he can possibly do. But it makes me feel better that he wants to try.

He wants to help when there’s absolutely no reason for him to do so.

“Okay,” I say at last, swallowing over a lump of emotion. “Thank you.”

He frowns at me. “All right. Go to bed and try to get some sleep. I’ve got more work to do here.”

“Okay.” I move the chair back into its normal position, go to the bathroom, splash water on my face, and then quietly slip back into my window nook.

“I am sorry about your uncle,” Gabriel says after I’ve settled myself under my blanket.

“Thank you.”

When I close my eyes, exhaustion suddenly washes over me like a flood. I don’t cry anymore, and it’s not long before I fall asleep.

The following day, Gabriel has private meetings all morning and afternoon, which is very unusual for a Sunday.

I’m not allowed to attend them since they’re taking place in the president’s office, so my day is long and boring and lonely.

He comes back just after the evening meal has been delivered, and he’s visibly drained and exhausted.

He sits down at his desk like he’s going to get right back to work, but he doesn’t actually do anything but stare down in a tense daze.

I pour him a glass of water and set it in front of him. When he doesn’t move, I pick up his hand and wrap it around the glass.

He lifts it automatically and drinks half of it in several long swallows.

Pleased that he’s responded, I fix him a plate of meat, cheese, and bread and carry it over to him.

He stares down at it as if he doesn’t understand what it is.

“Eat it,” I tell him gently.

He’s really out of it. Without a word, he reaches over and takes a piece of sliced chicken, bringing it up to his mouth and taking a bite.

I watch as he eats. Anytime he drifts off into that daze, I tell him to keep eating. And he does.

When his plate is finished, I tell him to finish his drink. He gulps down the rest of it, and I carry the plate and glass back to the table.

He’s still sitting in that same exhausted trance. I move behind his chair so I can massage his shoulders.

His breathing slows and lengthens as I knead the tension out of his neck and shoulders. I keep going for longer than usual because he’s not objecting or hurrying me along.

It’s been almost fifteen minutes when he says gruffly, “Come around and suck me off now.”

My pulse jumps. My heart jumps. My cheeks warm, and my pussy gives an excited clench.

I was hoping to be able to give him a full release, but I wasn’t sure he was in the condition to do it this evening. I waste no time in lowering myself into position between his legs, undoing his trousers, and taking him in my mouth.

He’s not talkative today. He’s not simply stressed and tense the way he often is. He’s utterly exhausted. But he holds my head in that entitled way that thrills me as I work him with my mouth, tongue, and throat, and he moans uninhibitedly as he gets close.

He makes a choked sound as his cock starts to spasm in my mouth. It gets louder as his hips begin to jerk. I swallow him down as I always do now, and I don’t raise my head until his hands finally let me go.

“Thank you,” he says on a thick exhale. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

His eyes fall closed as I get him back into his clothes. He’s almost asleep.

Feeling tender and protective, I’m moving away quietly when he jerks himself back awake. “Oh wait, Jess.”

I turn back around.

He’s still groggy as he fumbles with his notebook, pulling a folded page out from the inner pocket. “I found a job for your dad.”

“What?” I’m shocked. I can’t even move.

“A job.” He frowns at me. “The information is here. He’ll need to start tomorrow morning, so if you think it looks good, we’ll have to send a messenger over to your family to let him know this evening.”

He’s holding out the paper toward me, so I take it. I blink at the name of the position, and then my eyes grow round at the number of credits it will earn weekly. “But… but…”

“I thought it sounded good for him,” Gabriel says, “since he can read and write in both languages. It’s twice what he’s earning now, so it should more than make up for your uncle’s earnings. Don’t you think it sounds okay?”

“Okay? It’s amazing! But… but it’s a desk job!”

“I know. I asked around, but there’s no laborer’s job that would pay enough for them to cover that rent. But if he’s as smart and literate as you are, he’ll be able to do this job without too much trouble.”

Silly tears have started streaming down my face as I stare down at the piece of paper. “I can’t believe this. It’s… it’s like a miracle.”

“I used a few connections to get him the job, but he’ll have to hold it on his own. If he can’t do the work, they won’t keep him on.”

“He can do the work.”

“Okay, good.” Gabriel searches my face. “Why are you so surprised? I told you I’d take care of it.”

“I know.” I gulp. “But I didn’t think it was… it was possible. For him to move up to a desk job.”

“Evidently it’s not done very often, but if he can do the work, why shouldn’t he have the job?”

I nod. Then I wrap my arms around my chest, hugging myself in an attempt to not burst into tears. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe it.”

His expression is briefly uncomfortable. “It’s not a big deal. Just took a couple of conversations. You told me it was my responsibility to take care of you, so that’s what I’m doing. You shouldn’t be surprised about it.”

“I really appreciate it. Can we send the messenger now?”

An hour later, the messenger returns with a response from my father, confirming he received the information and he’ll be at the workplace first thing in the morning. He also thanks Gabriel very sincerely, but when I read the note out loud to him, Gabriel just shrugs it off.

“I don’t need all this thanking. I didn’t do that much.”

He changed the course of life for my entire family, but he probably already knows that. So I don’t argue.

Gabriel does only an hour’s more work until he starts drifting off again into that exhausted daze. When I suggest he take a shower and go to bed early, I really don’t expect him to agree.

But he does.

It’s oddly thrilling. That he’s listening to me. That he’s letting me make him feel better.

He’s in the shower for a lot longer than normal, but he finally comes out in the soft, loose sleep shorts he always wears to bed.

The fabric is very thin. It leaves nothing to the imagination.

When my eyes make an automatic detour down the attractive, masculine lines of his body, I give a little twitch of surprise when I notice that his cock is hard again.

“I have no idea what’s wrong with me,” he says, evidently seeing that I’ve noticed. “I’m so tired I’m about to fall over, so what the hell does my dick think is supposed to happen right now?”

I giggle at his dry, clever tone. I like that he’s not at all embarrassed about it. “Why don’t you lie down in bed and I’ll do you again real quick. You’re never going to be able to sleep with all that going on.”

He gives a huff of amusement and walks over to his bed. “You sure? You already did your job for the day.”

“My job is not just one quick session. I can take care of you as many times as you need.” As soon as he’s pulled back the covers and stretched out on the soft sheet, I climb onto the bed too, kneeling beside him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, closing his eyes as I gently pull down his shorts and retrieve his hard cock.

I lean over and take him in my mouth.

It’s strange, doing this for him in the bed. We’ve never done it anywhere except his desk chair. It feels intense. Oddly vulnerable. I have to lean all the way over to get into the right position.

Maybe it’s simply because he’s so tired, but Gabriel seems equally adrift. He holds my head with one hand, but his other arm is stretched out on the mattress, fumbling restlessly with the bedding. He groans just as uninhibitedly as he did earlier as I suck hard and bob my head. It’s like he’s too tired to maintain his normal control. As he approaches orgasm, he starts bucking his hips up into my mouth.

He wants to fuck. It’s so clear to me. It takes some effort to keep from gagging as I adapt my motion to his, letting him get as deep as I can manage.

He doesn’t last long. He’s coming before I know to expect it. Fortunately, he doesn’t have much ejaculate since he came a couple of hours ago. He’s still moaning with carnal satisfaction as I swallow down what I can and keep sucking until his shaft is fully soft in my mouth.

He’s moved his other hand back to hold my head now, keeping me in place as he rocks and shakes through the final aftershocks. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbles. “That was so good.”

He’s never called me that before. No one uses that endearment anymore. At least no one I’ve ever heard. I’ve read it in books though. It’s weirdly old-fashioned. A remnant from the old world. But for some reason that makes it feel special.

I’m pulsing with pleasure—both physical and emotional—as I give his soft cock a few gentle sucks.

“You make me feel so good. I never thought I could feel so good.”

I hum around his flesh in my mouth.

Then his hands fall back to the bed, and I can finally lift my head.

His eyes are closed and his body fully relaxed. I carefully pull up his shorts. Then I stroke his bare chest and use my fingertips to caress his face.

He mumbles out something wordless. I draw the covers up over his body.

He’s asleep already.

And I’ve never felt so safe and secure and proud of myself in my life.