Wicked Stalker (Captives of the Onyx Brotherhood #1)

Thirty-Three

Gabriel

“Stop fussing.” I push Seb away as he straightens my shirt like I’m a damn invalid. Bandages still wrap me like an Egyptian mummy, and my left arm is so stiff it’s almost useless, but the doctors have finally agreed I can leave the med center.

It’s been a long week.

The first few days, I saw no one but the medical team while I slipped in and out of sedation. Weird dreams chased me, nightmares of bleeding on a cold floor mixed with visions of Eve’s frightened face.

I demanded to see her over and over until finally they brought me my phone so I could see her in the apartment, just to shut me up. She was sitting at the table, sipping a drink from a mug, and I fell back asleep with that image of her, safe, allowing me a measure of peace.

Once the doctors pronounced me well enough for visitors, I had to deal with Kendrick, who wouldn’t let anyone else in until he'd heard my whole story a million times. Then I had to tell the head of the Gilda. Then his second-in-command. And a procession of people that only stopped once the doctors chased them out.

As he left, Kendrick stiffly informed me he’d delayed the initiation ceremony by one week to allow me to recover. If I wasn’t lying down, I’d have fallen over. All it took to get the man to give a little leeway was a punctured lung and losing so much blood I was minutes from death. Good to know for the future. But it still only gives me two days to prepare.

Two days, one working arm, and the energy of a ninety-year-old. Just how I’d imagined it.

“You ready?”

I nod, take a deep breath, and get to my feet. My head spins, but not as much as it did when I tried to stand yesterday. Eve doesn’t know I’m getting out today—I want to greet her at home, like myself, not stumbling out of the med center like a patient. After what she did for me, she needs to see me as strong, reliable, and all-round amazing.

Not like the sort of hero who would rescue her, only for her to have to kill the bad guy herself.

Fuck.

There’s not a hope I’ll ever live it down. The guys have given her the nickname “Rambo,” and apparently, she finds it funny. We shall see.

While she works with Jacob in his lab, I’m hoping to persuade Seb to set up a very secret surprise for Eve. One I’ve been thinking about ever since I became lucid again after the operation.

Seb stays close as I make the journey from the med center back to my apartment. Every step hurt and by the time I reach the door, I’m drenched in sweat, but I don’t care. I did it. I don’t complain when he brings me a pint of ice water after I collapse onto the sofa.

We sit in silence while my heart returns to normal. The doctors say I should be back to my normal self in three months. And that if the bullet had been a fraction lower, I’d have died right there in that shitty warehouse.

Eve would have been sold to someone else. Just the idea is enough to set my blood pumping again, and I press the cool glass to my forehead and take deep breaths to calm myself down. Seb watches without comment, a sympathetic look on his face.

I’m not sure what he’s been through in his past—he doesn’t talk about it much—but he seems to understand that I don’t want to talk about what I’m feeling. Instead, he asks, “So, what’s this secret plan you need help with?”

I tell him, and his jaw goes slack. “No. That’s fucking stupid.”

“It’s not.”

“What if…”

“I’m doing it. Are you going to run to Kendrick, or are you going to help?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “When?”

“Seven. Thank you.”

I hold my fist out, and he gives it a reluctant bump. “You can’t do this regularly. The guards will get suspicious.”

“I know. I’ll work out a better way if it goes well.”

Seb shakes his head again, then checks the clock. “She’ll be back soon. I’ll give you some space.”

Tiredness presses me down, but I don’t allow my eyes to close. I can’t have Eve walk in and find me asleep on the sofa like an old man. Finally, the door beeps, and she pushes it open.

I get a few seconds to enjoy her before she notices me. Her hair is pulled up into a messy, practical bun, and she hasn’t bothered with makeup. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a puppy on it. One of the guys must have managed to get her closet unlocked. God, that would have been a fun conversation for everyone involved .

Her face, though, is paler than I remember it being, and there are dark circles under her eyes as if she hasn’t been sleeping. Worried about me, or cursing herself for throwing away her one chance of freedom? No way for me to know.

Her gaze lands on me, and she yelps, stumbling back, hand to mouth. I knew I’d make her jump, and I can’t help the smile that twists my lips. “Surprise.”

She recovers herself, staring at me like I’m a ghost. I get to my feet—carefully—and stand before her. Her lips part as she studies my face. Then a small, answering smile graces her lips. “You couldn’t warn me like a normal person? You had to sneak in like a creep?”

I shrug. “I have to keep my stalking skills honed somehow. You never know when they might come in handy.”

The silence elongates until I hold out my good arm. “Come here.”

Even now, I make sure to inject a little command into the words. I’m walking a fine line here. I want Eve to know that I fucking worship her, but that I own her, too. She needs it. And so do I.

She steps forward but stops an inch away from me, afraid to make contact. I wrap my arm around her back and pull her close. “I won’t break. It’s okay.”

She makes a noise against my chest, and at first, I think it’s a laugh. But then she pulls back, eyes glistening. “You almost died.”

“But I didn’t. Because of you.” My own voice wobbles, and I take a deep breath to keep myself in check. “You’re a fucking badass. Do you know how amazing you are?”

Another noise, and this time, it is a laugh, if a watery one. “Jacob calls me—”

“Rambo. I know. It suits you. ”

She grins at me. It’s the most beautiful expression I’ve ever seen on her face. Proud and happy and…

Free.

It’s a splash of cold water.

She must have seen the change in me, because her brow creases. “Let’s sit down.”

I won’t say no to that. We settle on the sofa, and I face the difficult part of this, the part I’ve practiced over and over in my head.

I rest my hand on her knee. “I told you to run.”

Her frown deepens as she twines her fingers in mine. “You’d have died.”

“So? I kidnapped you. Locked you up. I stole your life.”

It hurts to say the words, but I force them out. We can’t move forward without all the bad stuff out in the open. “I took you because I was too selfish not to. It wasn’t for your sake. It was for mine. I had to have you, so I took what I wanted.”

She swallows. “I know.”

“So why?” I’ve tortured myself for days with the question. “Why did you save me? Why not run?”

She takes a long time to answer, and when she does, it’s with the deliberateness of planned speech. “Everything happened so fast. But…”

She rubs her thumb over my knuckle. “I didn’t want a life without you in it. And I don’t regret what I did.”

I close my eyes against the tidal wave of relief that crashes over me. Every minute since I woke, I’ve been terrified Eve regretted her choice. That if she could go back, she'd make a different one. I slip my good arm around her shoulders and inhale the clean scent of her hair. She’s mine. And this time, she chose it.

“I love you. ”

She doesn’t say it back, and I don’t expect her to. Not yet. But she snuggles against me, and I relax properly for the first time since I woke up. This is right. It’s where she’s supposed to be.

Time passes, and we both must have fallen asleep, because when my phone rings, we jump.

“Jesus,” Eve mutters, sounding adorably grumpy.

“Taking his name in vain. That’s progress.”

She snorts. “I’ll try out some other new swear words on whoever woke us up.”

My nerves light up in a tangled edgy mass when I see Seb’s name. I answer and cautiously ask, “How did it go?”

He makes a face. “About as well as you’d expect, at first. But she hasn’t called the cops, and she’s still here.”

“That’s good. Tell her to give us a second.”

He disappears, muttering off-camera as I turn to Eve. All the sleepiness has left her now, and she’s looking between me and the phone with undisguised curiosity. “What’s this about?”

My hands ball into fists.

Please let this go well.

“The last piece of the puzzle, I hope. I want you to be happy, and I know you won’t really be unless…”

My words run out at the sudden painful look of hope on her face. I can’t drag this out anymore. “Seb has Billie on the phone.”

Her mouth drops, and she grips my thigh. “What? But how can… She thinks I’m…”

“She’s still in Italy, but he’s called her from an external phone. Outside the Compound. He’s going to set the two phones up so you guys can talk. It’s not going to be a great picture but…”

A new voice issues from my phone. “Let me talk to her right fucking now. I can hear her. ”

Eve gasps and almost rips my hand off grabbing the device. “Billie?”

Billie’s face, grainy but undeniably her, stares back from my phone screen. “Eve? Oh my God, it’s really you. They said you were dead. A car crash…”

She breaks off, face twisting. Eve’s knuckles are white as she clutches the phone. “No. It’s a lie. I’m fine. I’m really fine.”

Billie’s face hardens. “Where are you? What’s happened? If you need me to call the cops, I’ll—”

“No. Don’t.” Eve’s gaze meets mine for a second. “I don’t want that.”

Billie looks unconvinced but doesn’t push it. “Tell me what’s happened. Everything. Right now.”

Eve shoots a glance at me. I know she won’t feel comfortable talking with me right here. “Go to the bedroom. It’s okay.”

She frowns at the spot in my chest where the bullet entered. “Call me if you need me.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll survive. Go.”

I give the girls a half hour of privacy before I push the door open. Eve’s eyes are red, but she’s relaxed, lying on the bed with the phone propped against a pillow. She smiles at me. “Hey.”

“Is that him?” Billie demands. “Give him the phone.”

Eve sighs, whispers, “Good luck,” and passes it over.

Billie’s voice is frosty. “The only reason I’m not calling the cops is because she’s asked me not to and I believe she means it. If that changes, you’re fucked. And if I go a month without hearing from her, you’re still fucked. Got it?”

Her righteous anger almost makes me smile, but that would be a very, very bad idea. I keep my face stern and solemn. “Understood.”

She looks like she wants to say more, but I pass the phone back to Eve. “You might want to come out to the couch. I’ve set up the new season of Love Island on the TV. I’m sure Billie can stream it where she is, if you want to watch it together.”

Eve’s face lights up, and I know I’ve hit the mark. My heart lurches as I imagine the two girls laughing together on their beaten-up old sofa, caught up in their stupid shows. I hear Billie agree, and she leaves for a moment to set up her own TV.

While she’s occupied, I go to the closet and quickly find the pajamas I’m looking for—“Life’s a trip!” and covered in acid smileys, the ones she wore the very first night I watched her. She looks puzzled when I hand them to her. “Why these?”

“Because I said so. Don’t argue.”

She makes a face but gets changed, then settles on the sofa with the phone propped up next to her. I fetch her a bowl of popcorn, then head into the bedroom. I’m almost at the end of my strength, and tomorrow I need to put my full focus on the initiation.

Thinking of that fills my mind with all sorts of wonderful images, and I fall asleep with the sound of Eve’s laughter in my ears.