Chapter 33 - Poppy #2
Gabriel doesn't move. Doesn't blink. For a long, terrible moment, I'm not even sure he's breathing. He just stares at me, his face utterly blank, as if I've spoken in a language he doesn't understand.
"What?"
"I'm pregnant." My voice cracks on the repetition. "About six weeks, according to the test. I found out a week ago, and I've been trying to figure out what to do ever since, and then Zach happened, and I learned about Dwayne, and everything fell apart, and I—"
"You're pregnant."
"Yes."
"With my child."
"Yes, Gabriel, with your child—"
He moves so fast I don't have time to react. One second, he's standing frozen across the room; the next, he's on his knees in front of me, his hands gripping my hips, his face pressed against my stomach.
"Gabriel—"
"Be quiet." His voice is ragged, muffled against my shirt. "Just... give me a moment."
I stand there, stunned, as Gabriel Ambrose—killer, monster, the most controlled man I've ever known—falls apart at my feet.
His shoulders are shaking. It takes me a long moment to realize he's crying.
"Gabriel." I thread my fingers through his hair, my own eyes burning. "Gabriel, talk to me."
"I didn't know." The words come out broken, fragmented. "I suspected—James said you went to a pharmacy, bought a test—but I didn't know for certain, and I thought... I thought if it was true, you would have told me, and when you didn't, I assumed..."
"You assumed I'd already made a decision without you."
He looks up at me, and the raw devastation on his face steals my breath. This is not the man who calmly confessed to seventeen murders. This is not the monster who kills without remorse. This is someone else entirely—someone wounded, terrified, desperate.
"I thought you would leave," he says. "I thought you would find out what I did to your father, and you would take my child, and you would disappear the way your mother disappeared, and I would never—" His voice breaks.
"I would never find you. I would spend the rest of my life searching, and you would be gone, and I would have nothing. "
"I'm here." I sink down to my knees, bringing us face to face. "I'm right here. I'm not leaving."
"You're pregnant." He says it again, like he's trying to make himself believe it. His hand moves to my stomach, pressing flat against the fabric of my shirt. "There's a child in there. Our child."
"Yes."
"A baby." Something shifts in his expression—wonder creeping in alongside the shock. "Half you, half me. A new life."
"Are you..." I hesitate, suddenly uncertain. "Are you happy?"
He laughs—a broken, wet sound that's more sob than mirth.
"Happy. Am I happy." He shakes his head, pulling me into his arms, crushing me against his chest. "I don't have words for what I am.
I've never wanted anything the way I want this.
I didn't even know I was capable of wanting something this much. "
I cling to him, tears streaming down my face. "I was so scared to tell you. I didn't know how you'd react, and then everything with Zach happened, and I thought—"
"You thought I might not want it."
"I thought you might see it as a complication. A liability. Something to be managed."
He pulls back, gripping my shoulders, his eyes fierce.
"Listen to me. This child is not a complication.
This child is everything. You are everything.
" His jaw tightens. "I told you once that I would burn the world for you.
That wasn't hyperbole. There is nothing I wouldn't do to protect you—both of you.
Nothing I wouldn't sacrifice, nothing I wouldn't destroy. "
"Gabriel—"
"I know I'm broken. I know I'm dangerous.
I know there's darkness in me that will never fully lift.
" He presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my lips.
"But I swear to you, on whatever soul I have left, that I will spend the rest of my life trying to deserve this.
Trying to be worthy of you and our child. "
"I don't need you to be worthy," I whisper. "I just need you to be honest. No more secrets. No more lies. No more manipulating me for my own good."
"No more secrets," he agrees. "No more lies."
"And you have to let me make my own choices. Even when you disagree with them. Even when they scare you."
"I'll try." He pauses. "That's the best I can offer. I'll try."
It's not a perfect promise. It's not the guarantee of happily-ever-after that fairy tales offer. But it's real, and it's honest, and coming from Gabriel, it might as well be a blood oath.
"Okay," I say.
"Okay?"
"Okay, we're doing this. You and me and..." I place my hand over his on my stomach. "And whoever this turns out to be."
Gabriel kisses me—deep and slow and achingly tender. When he pulls back, there's something in his eyes I've never seen before. It takes me a moment to recognize it.
Peace.
"I need to tell you something," he says quietly. "About tonight. Before you came back."
I tense, some instinct warning me. "What?"
"Zach is dead."
The words settle over me like a cold blanket. I wait for shock, for horror, for some appropriate response to learning that the man who shattered my world just hours ago has been erased from existence.
Instead, I feel only tired.
"Did you kill him?"
"Yes."
"Because of what he told me?"
"Because he threatened you. Because he tried to destroy what we have. Because—" Gabriel's arm tightens around me. "Because he would have kept coming. Men like Zach don't stop. They nurse their grievances, sharpen their weapons, wait for the perfect moment to strike. I removed the threat."
I think about Zach in that coffee shop—his casual cruelty, his obvious pleasure in my pain. I think about the journal pages, the photographs, the careful orchestration of my devastation. I think about what he might have done next if Gabriel had let him live.
"Okay," I say.
Gabriel looks at me, surprise evident. "Okay?"
"I'm not going to pretend I'm sad he's gone.
He wanted to hurt us—both of us. He used my history as a weapon.
" I turn to face him, letting him see the truth in my eyes.
"I'm not naive, Gabriel. I know what you are, what this life involves.
I'm not asking you to change who you are.
I'm just asking you to let me in. To trust me with the truth, even when it's ugly. "
"Always." He says it like a vow. "No more secrets. No more lies."
He helps me to my feet, then lifts me in his arms as if I weigh nothing. I let out a startled laugh.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking you to bed." He starts toward the door. "You need rest. You're carrying my child."
"I'm pregnant, not dying."
"You're exhausted. You've had an emotionally devastating day. You've driven across the city twice and confronted traumas most people couldn't survive." He silences my protest with a kiss. "Let me take care of you. Just this once, don't fight me."
I want to argue—the independent part of me bristles at being carried, being managed—but he's right. I'm exhausted in a way that goes beyond physical tiredness. The day has hollowed me out, and the thought of simply surrendering to someone else's care is suddenly, overwhelmingly appealing.
"Just this once," I murmur against his shoulder.
He carries me up the grand staircase to his bedroom.
"No one else has been in here," he says as he lays me on the bed. "Just you."
"Why?"
"Because you're different." He stretches out beside me, pulling me against his chest. "Because you're mine in a way no one else has ever been."
I should object to that—the possessiveness, the claim of ownership—but I'm too tired to fight, and the truth is, I don't want to.
Not tonight. Tonight, I want to be held.
I want to feel safe. I want to close my eyes and trust that when I open them, he'll still be here, and so will I, and the fragile new thing growing inside me will still be possible.
"Go to sleep," Gabriel murmurs against my hair. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"Promise?"
"I promise." His hand settles on my stomach, protective and warm. "I'll always be here. Both of you are mine now, and I protect what's mine."
I close my eyes, letting the darkness take me.
The last thing I feel is his heartbeat against my back—steady, strong, constant.
The monster's heart, keeping time with mine.