Forever Mine (Forever #4)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Monica

Present Day

The only thing I can think right now is that if my grandmother could see me at this point in my life, she’d be so fucking disappointed. Never in a million years would she think that I’d end up here. I’m her little spitfire. The one who never lets anyone get the best of her.

Yet, here I am, cowering in the back of a hole-in-the-wall bar in Colorado Springs because my occasional fuck buddy decided to beat the crap out of me.

I don’t even know how I got here. How this happened. Did I ignore all the signs? Never thought I’d be someone who would end up in this situation.

“This is all your fucking fault, Monica. All your fucking fault,” Marcus mutters.

I was never serious about Marcus. For a few months, I thought maybe I could make it work with him. That I could ignore the red flags and just enjoy the sex. But honestly, the fact that none of my friends liked him should have been a huge red flag. They made it blatantly clear any time Marcus came to a social event. Em not so discreetly told me I shouldn’t bring him to her house anymore, that she didn’t trust him around her kids.

And while I completely agree with her on many things, I took that comment personally. To me, it meant she didn’t trust my judgment. Which, in hindsight, is absolutely fucking correct. I evidently can’t trust my own damn judgment. If I could, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be anywhere else.

“Marcus, I don’t know what I did to make you so angry,” I stammer. I don’t even see his hand as it whips across my face. I only feel the excruciating sting against my cheek and lips as I cry out in agony.

“Of course you don’t, you fucking stupid bitch! Jesus! I had you exactly where I wanted you, Monica. It was fucking perfect, and you had to go fuck it all up and go after that other guy,” Marcus snarls.

I’m confused.

There’s no other guy.

Other than Marcus, I haven’t gotten laid since I left Oklahoma.

“There’s no other guy, I swear,” I whimper. My voice doesn’t even sound like my own. I’ve never been so scared.

Marcus stands over me, leering at me with disgust in his eyes.

“Your asshole boss, Mon. I know you’re fucking him,” he growls. My eyes widen in shock.

“The hell I am!” I shout.

“Oh, come on. All the late working hours? The business trips to real estate conferences? That shit doesn’t even exist. I’m not that fucking stupid,” Marcus says, rolling his eyes .

“I swear to you, Marcus. I’m not sleeping with my boss,” I tell him clearly.

“I can also confirm she is not sleeping with me, Marcus. Not for lack of hoping on my part, though,” a deep voice announces from the doorway. I cringe. It’s him. My boss.

Gabriel Campos.

The most beautiful man in the history of the world.

Also, my boss. And also an asshole.

Well, maybe not an asshole. He’s been perfectly nice to me and respected my wishes ... most of the time.

But God, he’s so damn pretty. A foot taller than me with dark blonde hair and a smattering of grey hairs throughout. Crystal clear blue eyes that unnerve me every time his studious gaze lands on me. He has a habit of studying me with his head cocked slightly to the side as if he’s trying to read my mind and learn all my secrets.

“So, Marcus. You gonna explain why my employee looks like she’s had her face smashed in a bunch of times?” Gabriel asks wryly from the door as he calmly crosses his arms across his chest and stares unblinking at Marcus.

“She needs to learn that I’m in charge,” Marcus explains. “I’ve got this under control, man. You need to leave. She’s mine.”

“Ahh. That’s an interesting explanation. Considering I know she’s not your woman, as I watched her block your number when you wouldn’t stop calling her,” Gabriel says as he cocks his head to the side and smirks at Marcus.

“It was just a fight. We’ll be fine. Will you excuse us, please?” Marcus says before turning his back on Gabriel and facing me. His eyes are wild as he stares at me, and I know he’s going to make me pay for Gabriel turning up here.

I don’t even see Gabriel move. He’s like a fucking stealth ninja. One minute he’s at the door, and the next minute he’s got Marcus pinned up against the wall .

“See, that’s the thing. You won’t be fine. Because Monica is my responsibility. And I’ll be damned if your bonehead ass is gonna touch her beautiful skin once more. Ya feel me, Pi?o ?” Gabriel asks.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Marcus stutters.

“It means dick, jackass,” Gabriel mutters as he twists Marcus’s arm hard. Gabriel turns to look at me, his eyes burning with intensity. “You alright, anjinho ?”

I nod, unable to speak. I wonder what anjinho means. I know Gabriel’s parents emigrated from Brazil, and he usually calls me querida , so I assume he’s calling me something. I’m just not sure if it’s good or bad.

Two police walk into the back room and take Marcus from Gabriel. He immediately comes to me, crouching so he’s at eye level. He gingerly reaches to gently pull my hair away from my face and sighs.

“Oh, querida . Let’s get you to the hospital,” Gabriel says quietly. I attempt to stand, but he grabs me and slides his arms under my legs, picking me up and holding me against his chest. “She needs medical attention. Can we go to the police station tomorrow?”

“We’ll have an officer accompany you to the hospital, ma’am, so you can give your statement while it’s still fresh in your mind,” the officer tells us. I nod silently. My face is throbbing, and I’m pretty sure I sprained my wrist when I landed on the ground after the first hit.

Gabriel takes me directly to his car and carefully deposits me in the passenger seat before putting my seatbelt on. I love his car. It’s a Mercedes sedan with every damn bell and whistle imaginable. But what I love most is it smells like Gabriel. Woodsy with leather and amber. It’s a scent I’ll never be able to think of without thinking of Gabriel now. It’s a smell that permeates my dreams .

I expect Gabriel to take me to the hospital, but he doesn’t start the engine once he’s in the car.

“What the fuck were you thinking,” he states quietly.

“What do you mean?” I stammer. He turns to me, and I can see the anger simmering in his gaze.

“I heard you tell your friend that he had gotten more angry. More volatile. Why would you agree to meet him? Why would you put yourself in that situation? If I hadn’t seen your car at this bar …” he trails off and wipes a hand across his face in frustration.

“How did you know it was my car?” I whisper.

“I know everything about you, anjinho ,” he responds.

“What does that mean?”

He sighs, struggling with his response.

“It means my angel.”

I inhale quickly as I stare at Gabriel. He’s been my boss for over six months. I never believed his words that he wanted more with me. I always knew … or thought … that it was just a fun game. That he didn’t feel anything and knew he wouldn’t cross that line because of our working relationship. Granted, we’ve had a few moments together. Ones that live in my mind rent-free. Times where I almost let my attraction to him overcome the realistic part of my brain that reminds me I’m not cut out for relationships. Happily ever after isn’t meant for broken girls like me.

Gabriel is the managing and designated broker at my relatively small real estate firm. I’m a real estate agent. He’s in charge of all the day-to-day administrative tasks for our office and oversees all the agents. With only fifteen agents on staff, Gabriel takes a more hands-on approach to interacting with the realtors. Up until recently, I assumed he joked around with all the agents and flirted with all the women.

I just never thought he’d be interested in me. I’m a decade younger than him. Gabriel is around forty-five. I just never thought his antics had any meaning. I figured he just found me amusing and wanted to see how far he could push me. I knew he was attracted to me, but I figured I was a conquest he was trying to conquer. The thrill of the chase.

“Let’s get you to the hospital, anjinho ,” he says quietly.

I don’t respond. My mind is moving a million miles per minute. Is he joking? Why is he calling me that? How did he find me tonight? Should I be worried? Ugh. My head is pounding now. I close my eyes as the car headlights approaching us are grating on my senses.

“Gonna rest my eyes,” I mumble.

“Stay awake, okay? You might have a concussion if he hit you hard enough. So you need to stay awake, Monica,” Gabriel orders.

“Okay, daddy,” I mutter.

I hear his intake of breath.

“ Puta merda ,” Gabriel says under his breath.

“What does that mean?”

“It means holy shit.”

“Why did you say that?” I ask.

“Because I liked it, anjinho .”

“You liked me calling you daddy?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Puta merda indeed.