33. Elijah
My gem is hunched over the sink, tears streaming down her face. The sight enrages me and makes me want to break every bone in that bastard’s body for what he’s doing to her. But I need to stay calm. For her.
Her eyes widen when she sees me standing there. I take a fresh hand towel and dab her cheeks, drying the tears from her beautiful face. She doesn’t speak, only watches me.
I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be alright. That she’s safe now. But there are things that need to be said first. Things that can’t wait any longer.
So I meet her gaze, my heart aching at the pain I see there. Pain I helped cause by not protecting her from the start. In that moment, I vow never to fail her again.
“You don’t have to do this. Whatever he’s holding over you, we’ll find a way to stop him. But you have to trust me.”
A conflict rages in Gemma’s eyes. She’s holding something back from me. And I can’t take this bullshit any longer.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on.” My voice is hard. “No more lies. I want the truth.”
She flinches, averting her gaze at my harsh tone. I grab her chin and force her to meet my eyes again.
“I’m not playing around anymore. That bastard has something over you, and you’re going to tell me what it is. Right fucking now.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she says in a soft tone. “Leave it alone.”
“I watched him pawing all over you out there. You expect me to stand by and let that happen?”
“Please, stop.”
“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like that. I told you. You’re mine. There is no escaping.”
Gemma blinks, fighting back tears.
“Now, will you tell me the truth, or do I have to beat it out of your lying husband?”
“No, please don’t hurt him. There’s nothing weird going on, I promise.”
I stare at her, trying to decide what to do. Part of me wants to grab her and drag her out of here, away from Oliver and his sleazy business partners. But that won’t solve anything in the long run.
“You really expect me to believe you’re fucking that scumbag willingly after everything we’ve shared? After I fucking proposed to you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it then. Explain it to me. So I understand why the woman I love lets another man touch her like this.”
Tears slide down her cheek. “Please, leave me alone.”
I can see it in her beautiful eyes, the panic and fear swirling beneath the surface as she shakes her head, refusing to open up to me. She’s shutting down, closing herself off, and it breaks me.
“Little gem.” I soften my voice. “Don’t do this. Don’t lie to me and pretend it’s over between us. I know you, I see you, and I won’t believe for one second that you don’t want this, want us.”
I reach out and graze her cheek with my thumb. She melts into my touch for a moment before catching herself, but it’s long enough. In that brief instant, I catch a glimpse of my little gem. She’s still in there somewhere.
“Aren’t you deceiving everyone in this room? Including me?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Do you trust in us?”
“Us?”
“Yes. Us.” My thumb glides over her lower lip, pressing down on it.
She gasps.
I lean in closer, my lips hovering over hers. “Still so responsive. What do you think Oliver will do if he sees us kissing?”
She tries to pull away, to put distance between us again, but I won’t let her.
Not this time.
My hand finds her waist, and I pull her into me, crushing my lips against hers before she can protest. For a heartbeat, she remains tense and resistant, but then the dam breaks. Her body yields to mine, and she’s kissing me back hungrily, desperately, like I’m the air she needs to breathe and she is mine. Kissing her is like oxygen filling my lungs, breathing life back into my soul.
Moments later, our lips break apart, foreheads pressed together as we gasp for breath. Her fingers twist into my shirt, holding me close.
“Don’t fight this,” I rasp. “Don’t fight us… Please. I beg you.”
“I can’t do this.” Her fingers let go of my shirt.
“This isn’t over. I won’t give up.”
“Elijah, stop. I love… I want to be with him! Accept that and leave us alone!”
I stare at her in disbelief, my grip on her loosening.
“You’re lying.”
Gemma holds up her hand.
I glare at the delicate golden band encircling her finger, my stomach twisting into knots. Is she wearing his fucking ring? I want to rip it off and hurl it across the room.
“What the fuck is that?”
Gemma shrinks back from me. “My wedding ring.”
“Take it off. Now.”
“I can’t…” Her voice wavers slightly. “Let me go. I don’t want this. I don’t want… you.”
Each word is like a knife to my heart, and I release my hold on her, taking a step back. She straightens her dress with shaking hands.
“Go on then. Go back to him if that’s really what you want. But don’t think for one goddamn second that this is over between us.”
I pivot and walk out of the bathroom without looking back, the image of the ring and her tear-stained face burning behind my eyes.
This isn’t over. Not even close.
I return to the table where Spectre and Wisp are waiting, their eyes fixed on me.
“Gentlemen.” I take my seat.
“Elijah.” Spectre holds his glass up in salute.
I nod to Spectre, then turn my attention to Wisp. He’s leaning back in his chair, the usual mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He’s the unpredictable one, the wild card. Broad shoulders, muscular arms. Looking like he could snap a man’s neck without breaking a sweat. Useful in every situation. Especially back then, it was.
Spectre leans forward, interlocking his fingers. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the lovely blonde, would it?”
I point my head in the direction of Gemma’s table, where that snake Oliver has his hands all over what’s mine. The sight of it makes me clench my fists. Not being able to rip her from his grip feels wrong.
“Her name’s Gemma. And as it turns out, she’s still legally married to that waste of oxygen.” But that’s not stopping me from taking what I want.
Spectre’s eyes gleam with interest. Cross him, and you’ll never be seen or heard again. His raven hair is always slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place. Always dressed in a crisp black suit with no tie. I’ve known Spectre for years now. He’ll do what needs to be done without hesitation or remorse.
Now I need him and Wisp a second time.
“So what’s the plan?” Wisp asks. “Whatever you need, we’ve got your back.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up in a half-smile. I’ve always appreciated Wisp’s enthusiasm. He never questions, just acts.
“Make sure this bastard never bothers her again.”
Wisp grins. “Now that we can certainly arrange.”
Spectre nods, face impassive. “Done. Any other specifics?”
“Do it publicly first. Drag his name through the mud and expose him for the fraud he is. Then I want him gone for good.”
“So, no fun tonight. You got me excited, Eli,” Wisp says.
“It’ll take more time. Do you have anything special in mind?” Spectre asks.
As much as I want to tear Oliver limb from limb right here and now, I need to be patient. It’s key here. Can’t let jealousy take over and screw this up.
“Not yet. But ensure Gemma and her family are not hurt or implied in anything.”
“I’ll gladly take out the trash,” Wisp says.
I watch Gemma make yet another excuse to slip away from Oliver’s wandering hands. That slimy bastard has been all over her all night, right under my nose. He’s trying to get a rise out of me. And damn it all, it’s working.
Spectre runs his fingertip along the edge of his glass. “Something official then?”
“Yes.”
“There are no takebacks.”
I look back at Gemma. The way she responded to my kiss was like she was starving for it—like she was starving for me.
She’s so strong, but the fear in her eyes makes my heart ache. Soon, I’ll take away the cause of that fear. Soon, it will be her and me. No one and nothing else will come between us ever again.
I shouldn’t have come here tonight. Should’ve found another way to get to Oliver. But when I heard he’d be here with Gemma, I couldn’t resist. I had to see for myself what that snake was up to with her.
And now my imagination is running wild with all the ways I’d like to make him suffer. Slowly. Until he’s begging for death.
My hand clenches around my whiskey glass. Wisp glances at me, eyebrow raised. He can tell I’m struggling to keep it together. But he doesn’t say a word, offering me that reckless grin of his.
“He should’ve signed the papers when he had the chance. Now, I’ll sign them for him.”
“Consider it done,” Spectre says.