Chapter 38 Gable
Gable
Ella stretches out her legs, wiggling her butt against my dick.
“Why are we sleeping in here?” she asks. “My sheets are nicer than yours.”
“That is completely untrue, and we’re sleeping in here because there are probably mice in your room.” I kiss her neck, unable to fucking stop myself. I haven’t been able to stop touching her since the car, and it’s pissing me off. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“A gross exaggeration. I’m messy, not dirty.”
“The mugs in there would disagree,” I whisper, and she grins. “Take these fucking pajamas off.”
“No, it’s cold.”
“You’ve never been cold in your life. You’re a portable heater.”
Her grin widens. “You’re warm too, y’know. That’s why you can’t get comfortable. We’re just a couple of hot toddies.”
I bury my face in her hair to stop myself from laughing. “Don’t say hot toddies. Ever.”
“Why? It’s a great drink. Very warming.”
My hand finds its way up her pajama top, and I’m fucking delighted that she isn’t wearing a bra. I tweak her nipple, and she bites her lip.
I’ve fucked Ella twice in the last few hours, and my cock is already ready for round three. It’s like our first kiss unlocked some addiction to her, and now I can’t get enough.
But there’s a war in me, one I keep trying to push aside.
She was Asher’s. He loved her. How could I do this to him?
Part of me wants to believe that if he could choose anyone for Ella to be with, it would be me—but the darker side of my heart knows the truth.
Even if he noticed my feelings before I did, he’d want better for her, wouldn’t he?
He’d want her to have more than I can offer.
She turns over to face me, draping her leg over my hip, and I take a second to look at her. Everything about Ella seems … sharper. Brighter. More vivid. The dark blue of her eyes seems deeper, her lips fuller.
Or did I just never notice it before? Was I thrown off by my immediate dislike of her? I’d always known she was attractive, but not irresistible.
“I didn’t think you’d be like this,” she says quietly, running her fingertips across my jaw. “So … affectionate.”
Her soft touch has me wanting more, so somehow, I pull her closer.
“Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you.”
Her smile is small. “Are you not usually?”
“The only person I ever touched was Asher. I haven’t even hugged Hunter in years.” I brush her hair back, seemingly unable to stop. Fucking. Touching. Her. “But this feels—”
“Easy.”
Our eyes meet, and I want to deny the word, and the feelings attached to it, but she’s right.
Every aspect of our connection before felt like a struggle uphill, but this? This is fucking seamless. A goddamn breeze.
Instead of confirming that, though, I’m a coward, and I just kiss her. I kiss her, and hope I can absorb these moments, so when this all ends, I can look back and remember that I had it good.
Perfect.
For a while.
“Gable?” she mumbles against my lips, and I kiss down her throat.
“Hm?”
“I want Oreos.”
I move her onto her back, resting my hips between hers. “Oreos can wait.” I capture her mouth with mine and she moans—before wriggling from beneath me and out of bed. I growl and try to snatch her wrist, but she hops back, grinning. “Get your ass back in this bed.”
“Nope. If you won’t get me food, I’ll get it myself.”
She goes for the door.
“Gibson, you take one step into that hallway, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Ella clasps her hands behind her back, the picture of innocence. “That’s kind of the point.” And then she takes off running.
This fucking woman.
She’s so quick that I only catch up to her at the bottom of the stairs. I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her up.
She cackles. “Unhand me!”
I place her on her feet, my shoulders shaking with laughter, and fuck … last time I laughed like this was with Asher. Last time I felt anything other than total fucking misery was with Asher.
Ella turns in my arms and kisses me. “Feed me Oreos, Gable Flynn.”
“I’m fucking you first.”
A knock on the door has us both freezing.
Beyond the windows around the doorframe, heavy snow falls, blurring the person waiting. Another knock sounds, and Ella leans into me.
“Go into the kitchen.”
She scowls. “What if you need backup?”
“Ella, go.”
With a sigh and an eye roll, she leaves, heading toward the kitchen.
I open the door, and I’m confronted with a stranger.
He’s bundled up in a snow-sprinkled coat, is about the same height as Ella, and has a knitted hat pulled over his head.
He’s close to fifty and breathes out a hefty sigh when he sees me.
“Thank God. I’m so sorry to knock so late, but my car broke down, and my phone died.”
My gaze flicks behind him, searching for others, but the land beyond it is empty. “And that’s my problem how?”
He blinks, then forces a bashful smile. “Could I use your phone to call someone? My wife and kid are in the car.”
Movement in the corner of my eye has me glancing to my left—to a panicked looking Ella. She’s holding up three fingers, and gestures at the back of the cabin.
Fuck.
I seize the stranger’s coat and tug him inside before throwing him against the wall and pressing my forearm to his throat. His eyes blow wide, and he grips my arm.
“What the hell are you doing!”
“How many of you are there?”
Spittle gathers at the corner of his mouth. “What? There’s just me, my wife and kid!”
I slam him into the wall. “Bull.” And again. “Shit. Tell me now, or I hurt you.”
“I … I don’t know what you mean! Please!”
“Maybe he isn’t with them, Gable,” Ella says softly, and the stranger’s eyes move to her. The flicker of recognition is all I need to know I’m going to kill him, but the barely concealed lust confirms that I’ll also hurt him.
“Look at her like that again and I’ll remove pieces of you,” I say, pressing harder into his throat until he looks at me.
“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t look anywhere close to apologetic. “She’s cute for a million dollars.”
The snap of his neck is loud in the quiet room.
Ella gasps sharply behind me as the stranger slumps to the ground.
I heave in breaths, my skin hot, my mind buzzing from adrenaline and bone-shattering fear.
They’ve found us.
I face Ella, and she stares at me, her blue eyes wide. For a moment, I think she might run—instead, she rushes to me and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her ear to my chest.
Relief almost swallows me whole, and I hold the back of her head.
“What do we do?” she whispers.
I take her hand, leading her upstairs and back into the bedroom. Motor stands up on the bed on high alert. I snatch open the nightstand drawer and take my gun out before handing it to her.
“Stay here. Shoot anyone that comes in.” She nods, and because she doesn’t argue for once, I kiss her. “You’re sure there were three?”
She nods again. “Three out back and the one at the front door. Four total.”
I look at her pointedly. “Gibson.”
A pretty scowl appears. “I can count, Gable.”
“Okay. Don’t die.”
She squeaks in response, and I leave the bedroom.
My heart is beating too damn fast, and that isn’t like me. Usually, I’m calm and collected, eager for the kill but composed. Tonight, my head is in two places—my target and Ella.
She can take care of herself. And she has Motor.
But if anything happens to her—
No, nothing will.
I won’t let it.
Passing the kitchen, I swiftly pull a knife from the knife block before approaching the side door. I adjust the blade in my hand. I’d prefer to use a gun, but it’ll be loud, the sound will carry, and it’s a waste of bullets.
I head for the far side of the house, still bare-chested and barefoot. It’s fucking freezing outside, but there isn’t exactly time to get dressed. I ease open the door to the porch, and if Ella is right about where they are, I might have the element of surprise.
The snow is falling thick and fast as I step outside and wait.
Looking to my right where the porch leads to the front of the house and seeing no one, I head left.
I keep my back close to the wall, knife firmly in my grip, thumb pressed to the base of the handle, and sidestep slowly.
I’m approaching the corner that’ll lead me to the full porch at the back of the cabin when someone backs into view.
He’s laughing, a tall, skinny guy, hunched over in a black raincoat.
He’s distracted and has no idea I’m here.
Amateur.
I snatch him out of view and stick the knife in his throat. He gargles once but doesn’t shout, and even if he had, I doubt anyone would hear him. Lowering him to the ground, I wipe off the knife handle and my palm against his jacket and keep moving.
One down.
I edge to the corner.
“She’s upstairs,” one of them says. “Where’s G?”
“Fuck if I know.” Another voice. “Where’s the dog? I don’t fancy gettin’ bit.”
There’s a bang, like a door hitting a wall.
“Hey! I’m in. Side door.”
A third voice. There are five, not four.
I can’t wait to tell her “I told you so.”
There are different ways to plan an attack like this.
Asher preferred the quieter approach, but I’ve always been a firm believer that when there’s a group, it’s best to go in all guns blazing.
It throws them off guard, and I’ll have killed at least two of them by the time the third one has recovered from his shock.
So, I stride forward.
By the time the first guy sees me and opens his mouth to shout, my knife is in his throat. Blood spits across my face and the snow, and I yank the blade out. He hasn’t even hit the ground and I’m already advancing on the second man. He’s bigger, but nowhere near my size.
The cold bites into my bare feet as I sweep the knife out. He hops back, recovering quickly, and I’m not even disappointed. I toss the knife.
It’s been a while since I’ve gone toe to toe with someone.
And I have a lot of rage to let out.
He throws a punch and I step back. Another fist, another step. I weave left and right, laughing as he attempts to land a hit and misses every time.
“This is what I’m up against?” I ask. “How did you morons find us?”
He’s breathless from his pathetic attempt at attacking. “You won’t be laughing when I fuck your girl before cashing her in.”
The cold vanishes.
Heat rushes through my blood, across my skin, a mist of red almost blurring my vision. I wouldn’t be surprised if steam were curling from my skin. My heart rate doesn’t increase—it steadies, it slows, a dull, rhythmic beat in my ears as if timing my next moves.
My knuckles meet his nose.
The power in my punch knocks him back. He stumbles, his back meeting the porch railing, and I seize his jacket, throwing him into the back of the cabin before I advance.
I pull my fist back, and I unleash hell.
The thuds become wet. Bones crunch. Skin separates. Blood weeps.
I don’t remember him falling to the ground or straddling his chest as I throw punch after punch into his mangled face.
My muscles burn, and it’s only that sensation that brings me back into myself. I heave in bitter breaths, dropping my head back as his blood cools on my skin. Bursts of fog erupt from my mouth and into the night sky as I attempt to catch my breath.
Death.
It’s so strangely peaceful.
Absolute.
Quiet.
No heartbeat. No rushing blood. No racing thoughts.
Delivering death lends you a glimpse into the magic of it. It’s like quenching the longest thirst. So. Damn. Satisfying.
Footsteps pull me from my thoughts.
The final man.
His eyes widen; his face pales. “Listen, man—”
I stand.
He runs.
I grin and wipe the back of my hand across the blood on my face, and I take off after him into the yard.
He’s screaming, sobbing, throwing terrified glances over his shoulder as I gain on him. The snow kicks up behind us as he reaches the line of trees, dodging between trunks.
He trips.
“Please, God, please—” I’m on him, gripping his face as he screams. Those screams become squeals as I press my thumbs into his eyes. “No!”
He struggles beneath my weight, but he’ll never move me. He’s weak. I’m strong.
I’m the predator.
He’s the fucking prey.
“You think you can take her from me?” I ask, a fog of breath between us, his screams echoing through the trees. “You think anyone can take her from me?”
A pop.
Another.
Slickness covers my thumbs and his screams subside. He shudders beneath me, spittle lining his lips, snow and blood covering his face, his eyeballs leaking down his face and into his hair.
I don’t even kill him.
He can lie here and let the cold take him.
Standing, I head back toward the house. I’m covered in blood and sweat, and I pause at the line of trees to catch my breath.
She’s safe.
For now.
The only place I can take her is Hunter’s. I didn’t go there first because I didn’t want to make him a target, too, but now I have no choice.
My gaze drifts to Ella’s bedroom window. The yellow light seems to burn as she paces back and forth.
Worried.
About me.
I have no idea how this happened to me. How I went from hating this woman to needing every part of her. How the seconds of my day amount to her.
How protecting her became the only reason to keep breathing.
My heart clenches, and I close my eyes.
Cold metal presses to my temple, and a voice comes from the darkness.
“You missed one.”