61. Riley
SIXTY-ONE
”You”ve got it all wrong.”Gabriel says this as peers up at me, his eyes wide and pleading.
I look over his head and out the window, into the darkness where the jungle-like foliage is barely visible. It”s a tangle of vines and leaves and spiny, spiky plants out there. A visual representation of what my mind must look like right now. A sigh leaks out of my mouth.
It seems like this is a pattern for us. He does something, I find out a half-truth, I ask about it, he hems and haws. Maybe this comes with the territory of being a mob boss” girlfriend, but I”m sick of it.
I tilt my face down so I can stare him in the eye. ”Then correct me.”
He hauls himself to his feet and begins to pace. I know him well enough to understand that this means he”s troubled about what he”s going to say.
”She said that? That you should ask me what happened?”
”Yes.”
”Oh, Christ.” He shakes his head. ”She”s turning into a problem.”
I held up my hands. ”Hey, you”re the one who invested in her business, not me.”
He stops and shoots me a brief glare, then goes back to pacing. ”You really want to know?”
I slap the sofa, exasperated. ”Dammit, Gabriel, if I didn”t want to know, I wouldn”t ask.”
With pure fire blazing in his dark eyes, he sits next to me. ”Remember how I told you she was raped by one of her father”s men, a bodyguard?”
I nod, my stomach twisting. Whatever he”s about to say, it”s not going to be pleasant. Now that I understand what this involves, I wish I”d never asked.
”I killed that man.”
He says it so matter-of-factly that I fumble my water, spilling what”s left onto me. The heavy glass tumbles to the floor. Fortunately, there”s a sumptuous rug to catch its fall, and it doesn”t break.
Neither one of us goes to pick it up.
I open my mouth, breathless. ”Gabriel. You...”
”I shot him, then dumped his body in a swamp near Georgia.”
Before tonight, I suspected that Gabriel had killed people. He”d told me as much, hell, he”d come home with blood staining his shirt. But he never spoke so plainly about it as he did just now, and never with such a quiet fierceness.
”I cared for her so much as a friend that I couldn”t stand the thought of her attacker walking this earth. Living his life. He stole something from her, Riley. She used to have a certain lightness about her. Maybe she”s gotten it back, I don”t know. But she was almost catatonic in those weeks afterward, and I got angrier and angrier.”
My heartbeat whooshes in my ears, so loud that it almost makes me dizzy. ”Did she ask you to kill...” I can”t get the full sentence out. ”Did she ask you to do that?”
He shakes his head. ”I did it on my own and told her later.”
”What was her reaction?”
He shrugs. ”At first she was angry, worried that her father would retaliate.”
”Did he?”
Gabriel shakes his head firmly, and for once, I don”t ask the details.
”Then she decided to leave university and the state entirely, which I understood. Before she left, she thanked me for murdering the guy. Hell, Riley, I was young and impulsive. But I”d still do it again if needed.”
I lean forward and put my elbows on my knees so I can rest my face in my hands. Take a few deep breaths for fortification. One...two...three. Inhale, exhale.
When I sit up straight, Gabriel”s looking into the mid distance.
”This is why you offered to take care of Lorna”s killer, isn”t it?”
”Of course. That guy hurt someone you love, and caused you pain. I”d wipe anyone who caused you any kind of harm off the face of the earth. It”s not something I”m going to apologize for. It”s just who I am, and how I handle things.”
The magnitude of his words sink in. I won”t deny that this makes me feel protected in a way that I never have. But it”s also supremely fucked up. Even in my love-addled brain, I know this.
”What about Lorna”s family? Were they connected to the Irish mafia up there? Why didn”t they retaliate? Maybe the Irish aren”t as vengeful as the Italians.” Gabriel”s talking as though I”m not here, as if he”s having a conversation with himself.
I shake my head. ”Her father”s dead, and her brother”s in prison in Ireland.”
”Ah. And your own father? I assume he knew Lorna. He knew how upset you were.”
A dormant rage bubbles up at the memory of a conversation I had with Dad after Lorna died. I pleaded with him to do something, yelled and screamed and begged.
”He told me that it wasn”t our business. That the guy who killed her was high-ranking in the organization, and that if he got five years for a manslaughter charge, that would be the best justice I could hope for.”
Gabriel lets out a string of incredibly foul swear words. ”I”m sorry. That seems cowardly. But he”s your father, so that”s all I”ll say.”
”No, it is cowardly. My father is a coward, always on his knees for the gangsters.” It”s difficult to square the contempt I have for him, and the disappointment I have for Gabriel. Maybe I need to look at this in a different light, and realize that Gabriel”s had the balls to do what I”d wished I could — or wished the men in my life could.
Realizing the truth is sometimes most painful when it involves our own feelings...
Gabriel extends his hand to me, palm up. He wants me to put mine on top of his, and I hesitate. Every new revelation from him seems like a slippery slope to hell.
And yet.
I almost love him more for seeking revenge on Catherine”s attacker. It”s what I”d dreamed about doing to Lorna”s killer, a million times over.
I place my small hand into Gabriel”s larger one. We twine our fingers and sit in silence.
”About The Bahamas,” he finally says, as if we weren”t just talking about murder a few moments ago. ”I”d love for you to come with me, but I”ll understand if you don”t.”
I squeeze his hand. ”Let me think about it, okay? Also, Catherine”s gallery opening is Friday night.”
Something in me now feels protective of Cath, and I want to support her. Maybe she”s not the enemy.
”That”s right.” Gabriel bites his lip. ”I forgot all about that. Dammit. We can leave after the party, or the next morning. I want to attend that party. But yes, think about it. Please.”
”I will.” Suddenly I”m dog-tired and don”t feel like driving home — although I know I should.
”Maybe I should get going.”
Gabriel turns to me, stroking my face. ”You can stay. I”d like you to stay.”
His expression is so sweet, so sensual, that I can”t say no. Although his beauty and power are what initially attracted me to him, it”s moments of vulnerability like this that make me melt.
I nod. ”Um, would you mind if I had some time alone upstairs? I”d like to shower, and I dunno. Collect my thoughts.”
”Of course, babe. I need to make a couple of calls anyway. I”ll be up in a while.”
He draws me close and kisses me on the temple. The familiar feeling of desire washes over me like a gentle wave, but I fight the urge to slide into his lap and make out with him. Sometimes I think I use my attraction to him as a way to cover up my conflicted feelings.
Tonight, I won”t.
I rise from the sofa, and stroke his face as I stand. ”See you upstairs.”
It seems to take extra effort to climb the staircase tonight, and I”m grateful for the hushed, dark silence of his bedroom. I”m mentally numb as I go to the bureau where Gabriel has cleared a drawer out for me. I keep a few changes of clothes in here, mostly lingerie, a spare pair of jeans, and some T-shirts. There are also some nighties here, things he”s bought me since I started staying over on the regular.
Tonight I see something wrapped in delicate, white tissue paper and smile. Gabriel”s bought me something new. He does this sometimes, buys me gifts of clothing and places them in this drawer. Once he said that he loves being at work and knowing I”m getting a surprise gift from him while I”m here alone.
Thinking of that only makes me feel worse about our fight tonight. He was honest with me, even if I didn”t like his response.
When would I learn not to ask questions if I didn”t truly want to know the answers?
I take out the object wrapped in paper and carefully undo the tissue. It”s a silk camisole and short set, pale pink with a romantic floral print. Totally classy, a little bit sexy, and very innocent. The fabric is the softest I”ve ever touched and can imagine how it would feel next to my body.
After the night I”ve had, I need this bit of tactile luxury. I take the lingerie set into the bathroom.
Alone in the confines of the bathroom, I sit on the edge of the tub with my phone to check my texts. I have a message from Mike, my editor.
Riley, I hate to contact you so late, but we”ve got a scheduling situation. Can you work night cops tomorrow? Our new hire got in a car accident and needs to deal with that so I”m shuffling people around.
I let out a groan of indignation. Switching shifts and returning to my old beat for a night means I”ll have to wait to write the feature about Catherine. If I say yes, I won”t have to go into the office until three, and I”ll work until midnight. I”d hoped to get the gallery feature out of the way early and forget about it. But returning to the crime beat even for a night excites me — maybe I can call all my old police sources to see what”s really happening in the city. I tap out a text to Mike.
Sure, that”s fine. I”d like to sleep in tomorrow. I include a smiley face emoji and press send.
Mike texts back almost immediately, thanking me and claiming he”ll buy me a coffee.
Weary and bone-tired from the night, I brush my teeth, shower and quickly blow dry my hair so it”s in sloppy waves. Then I change into the camisole and shorts. They fit perfectly, skimming my curves, making my body look soft and feminine. I reach for the bottle of perfume I keep here, a fragrance that smells light and floral, something that Gabriel also bought for me, and dab it behind my ears.
When I pull open the door, Gabriel”s sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. His eyes light up when he sees me.
”That looks even more beautiful on you than I imagined.”
I crawl into bed next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. ”I”m sorry about earlier. It”s a lot to get used to. You”re a lot to get used to. I know I keep saying that.”
”No, I”m sorry. For the first time in my life, I”m sorry about my past. I wish I was pure for you, Riley.”
I wish you were too.But I don”t say that, because I love him, and that”s not the kind of thing you say to a man you adore.