3. Gabriella
Gabriella
Thank Goddess for my landlady.
Seriously.
I don’t know what I would do without Mrs. Donnelly.
Probably cry. Then panic. Then cry some more.
Because my second job starts tonight, and without her agreeing to keep Matteo, there’s no way I could work both shifts.
Bartending.
At Dick’s Watering Hole.
Yeah.
I know.
The name is freaking terrible.
But the tips are supposed to be good, the hours don’t interfere with most of my shifts at The Joint, and right now?
I need every extra dollar I can get.
Not for rent.
Not for groceries.
Not even for the new sneakers Matteo desperately needs because my kid apparently grows overnight.
I need money because another payment is due. And if I don’t send it? I risk that asshole coming to look for me.
The thought makes the secret beneath my skin stir uneasily. I press my palms against the bathroom counter and stare at my reflection.
“Easy,” I whisper.
The restless energy quiets.
A little.
Hiding for the last couple of years hasn’t been easy.
Not when I know exactly what I am. And worse? I know what that makes me worth to the people I’m running from.
I’ve heard all the stories.
The warnings.
The threats disguised as tradition.
I know exactly what would happen if my old Wake found me.
They wouldn’t ask me to come back.
They’d take me.
Because females like me aren’t supposed to leave.
We’re supposed to stay where we’re put.
Do what we’re told.
Increase the Wake.
Produce the next generation.
Be useful.
Fuck that so hard.
I refuse to go back and become some sort of trophy because of what hides beneath my skin.
And I sure as hell won’t let them get their hands on my son.
My stomach twists.
Matteo.
Everything comes back to him.
Always.
I grab the mascara from the counter and lean closer to the mirror, carefully applying it while trying not to think about the balance in my checking account.
Or the amount I need to send.
Or my brother.
Nando.
Goddammit.
Every month, I send him as much money as I can spare.
Sometimes more than I can spare.
Sure, Nando is the one who got me out. The one who helped me disappear.
And as fucked up as everything between us has become, he’s still the only reason Ethan hasn’t found me yet.
At least, that’s what Nando keeps telling me.
I have to believe him.
What other choice do I have?
My brother is still a member in good standing with the Suicide Cliff Wake.
So, yeah, he is still in the loop. He knows what Ethan is doing. He knows when people start asking questions. And most importantly, he knows how to redirect those questions before they lead here.
To Montana.
To Ember Hollow.
To me.
To Matteo.
So I keep Nando happy.
Even when his messages come too often. Even when the amount he needs keeps getting bigger. Even when I know exactly where most of that money is going.
My brother is weak.
I love him.
I hate admitting that about him, but it’s true.
Nando has addictions he can’t—or won’t—control. And those addictions cost money.
My money.
The arrangement makes me sick sometimes.
But he got me out. And if keeping him supplied with whatever the hell he needs keeps his mouth shut and Matteo safe?
Fine.
I’ll do it.
I’ll work three jobs if I have to.
I’ll waitress all day.
Bartend all night.
Live on caffeine and four hours of sleep.
I’ll sling burgers, pour beers, scrub floors, and smile at every asshole who thinks a tip entitles him to stare down my shirt.
Whatever it takes—because I’m not going back.
Lately, that fear has taken on an entirely new edge. See, I’m starting to suspect Matteo is more like me than anyone knows. And I will never let them have my son.
My hand stills. The mascara wand hovers beside my face.
There have been little things. Things I can explain away individually.
But together?
A mother knows her child. And I know something is changing in mine.
Something inherited.
Something ancestral.
Something impossible.
The same gene I carry. The same secret I’ve spent years hiding.
If I’m right...
Fuck.
I close my eyes.
If the Wake ever discovers what my little boy harbors inside him, I can’t even imagine the future that awaits him.
No childhood.
No choices.
No freedom.
They’d see bloodline.
Power.
Potential.
They wouldn’t see Matteo.
My sweet little boy who loves cheeseburgers and coloring books. Who still climbs into my bed when there’s a thunderstorm. Who leaves his sneakers in the middle of the floor no matter how many times I tell him not to. Who thinks chocolate milk should qualify as a food group.
They’d turn him into something useful to them.
A prize.
A tool.
Maybe something worse.
A weapon.
No.
A fierce pulse of energy moves beneath my skin. For one second, my eyes change in the mirror.
I blink.
Gone.
“Shit.”
I grip the counter.
Control.
I need control.
Nobody here knows what I am.
Not Gia.
Not Wreck.
Not Justin.
Not—
Havoc.
My heart does a stupid little flip.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Not now.
I have enough problems without adding one gigantic, blond, golden-eyed Wolf Shifter to the list.
Especially one who looks at me like he knows I’m hiding something.
That man makes me nervous. Not afraid. And that might actually be worse.
Because fear I understand.
But whatever it is I feel around Rowan “Havoc” Cross?
Not so much.
And I absolutely do not have time to figure it out.
I have a kid to protect. A brother to pay. A Wake to hide from. And apparently two jobs now.
I finish my makeup, pull my dark hair up off my neck, and stare at myself one last time.
Black jeans. Low-cut black shirt. Curves I can’t hide even when I try.
Fuck it.
I look good enough.
Mrs. Donnelly already fed Matteo dinner. I kissed him goodbye upstairs and promised I’d check on him when I got home, even though he insisted he was staying awake until I did.
He won’t. The kid sleeps like the dead. And tonight, for the first time in forever, I’m grateful for it.
I grab my bag.
“Okay, Gabby,” I whisper to myself.
One night.
One shift.
One more payment.
That’s all this is.
And if slinging beers until two in the morning is what it takes to keep Nando happy and the Wake far away from my son?
Then tie the fucking apron on me.
I’ll do anything to keep Matteo safe.
Anything.