11. Gabriel
11
Gabriel
“ S o, this is me,” I say as we arrive in front of my house.
Lexi peeks out the car’s window. “This little house? This is where you live?”
“Sorry to disappoint you. But I promise there’s a comfy bed, hot water, and food. Since you keep saying you’re a prisoner…”
Lexi seems a little calmer after our chat in the car. Fingers crossed. That means she might be more willing to hear my ideas now. Spilling my life story to clients isn’t exactly my style. But Dominic’s right; she’s become much more than just a client.
“You mean a bed as in… one bed? Aren’t there more?” she says, shooting me a glare, her lips pressed together in a thin line, a splash of bold red lipstick, like a poppy against the soft canvas of her naturally beautiful face.
She doesn’t seem too happy about the idea of us sharing a bed and a room. I guess she won’t be thrilled about the fake dating thing, either. But I have to tell her by the end of the night. I want to give her time to process it and get comfortable with the idea, so she’ll be ready to play her part in public. We’ll make sure everyone knows about us, down to the last dock worker.
“The house is not what it seems,” I say, trying to shift her focus .
Okay, that came out wrong. And now Lexi’s giving me a scared look. Maybe I should keep the conversation neutral until she’s on board with the fake dating thing.
“What I mean is, it looks pretty basic, but there’s nothing basic about it. It’s a little fortress.”
That didn’t help either. Now she’s even more scared, white-knuckling the car door handle.
“Let’s just go inside. I’ll turn off the house alarm. Give it a second before you get out of the car.”
My place is fully equipped with a high-tech security system, complete with motion sensors. Everything’s hooked up to my phone and the cameras in the control room at the office. It’s the safest place for Lexi right now.
We pull into the yard, the gravel crunching under the tires. The fence disappears into the background, its grey metal indistinguishable from the cloudy sky beyond. There are other houses nearby, but the land next to this house is mine, too. I wanted to make sure no one was going to build too close.
“Okay, we can get out now. I’ll get your bag. Hang on, let me get the door for you.”
“I got it,” Lexi says and immediately jumps out of the car. She’s either curious or trying to keep her distance from me. The moment we shared in the car has faded, and she’s slipping back into her feisty self. But I prefer her like this, her spark intact, rather than seeing her in tears.
“You can go inside while I get everything out of the car.”
“No, it’s your house. I’ll wait for you.”
I grab Lexi’s bags and the groceries my assistant got us. Delivery guys don’t come to this area. Nobody ever comes. Well, except for Dominic or Damien, occasionally .
I unlock and push the door open. The lights come on, and Lexi walks into the large open space, which combines the living room, dining room, and kitchen.
“This is where you’ll be staying, on the left. Let me show you.”
I drop the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and head left to my bedroom. Lexi trails behind me, her earlier chatter replaced by a tense silence . Exhaustion? Fear? Or maybe just curiosity. Her file says she’s always lived with her parents or Lena. No mention of any relationship with a man. She’s young, though. Much younger than me.
“This is your bedroom?” Lexi asks, looking at the unmade bed I’d slept in.
“Yes. I didn’t have time to stop by the house and tidy up before we came.”
“You mean we’re both going to sleep in here?”
“No, just you. Oh, there’s also a bathroom right next to it.”
“What about you?”
“There’s a sofa bed in the study. Or I’ll take the couch in the living room.”
“I can’t take your bedroom. I’ll sleep in the study.”
“No one goes in there. Besides, you’d hear me making noise in the living room when I get up in the morning. It’ll just be you in the bedroom, so it’ll be way quieter in here for you to relax and get a good night’s sleep.”
“Relax? You’re kidding, right? You did that earlier in the car, too. But it’s okay. This will be over soon, and I’ll be out of your hair, back to my life.”
“I don’t know how soon this will be over. Let’s take things as they come and be open to adapt if we have to.”
“Are you preparing me for something? ”
Damn. This woman picks up on all the nuances in what I say. Either I break the news faster, or I keep quiet until she settles in.
“Look, I have experience with these things. Trust me, patience is your best friend when things get hairy,” I continue.
“What kind of experience? What do you actually do in your job?”
“There’s a lot to tell. I’ll let you unpack. You’ll find fresh sheets and towels in that closet. You have everything you need in the bathroom for a shower or a bath, whatever you like.”
“And where will you be?”
“Around the house. I’ll make us something quick for dinner and pop in later to get some sheets for myself.”
“Is there another bathroom in the house?”
“Yeah. Next to the study.”
“You mean the room that’s off-limits?”
“Lexi, you should know you’re welcome here. I hope you can make this your place for a little while. I only have one rule.”
She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. “No snooping around the house, please. I prefer to keep the locked doors and closets locked. If you need anything, just ask. I’ll make room in the closet for you to keep your clothes and move some of mine into the study. Feel free to use whatever you need from the kitchen or the bathroom. But don’t snoop around the rest of the house. Okay?”
“Of course. Why would you even think I would…? It’s your house.”
“Women have a knack for curiosity,” I say with a playful grin. She shoots me a death glare in response.
“And men can be rude,” Lexi whispers in a low voice. I’ll let this one slip.
“You’re welcome. See you at dinner.”
I leave, closing the door behind me. This is going to be interesting…
** *
I take a quick shower and change in the study, and then I’m off to whip up a salad in the kitchen. Lexi’s been holed up in that office all day. Mike said all she had was waffles and apples. She must be hungry, so this could be a chance to tame her down a bit before we tackle the whole fake dating thing.
I wasn’t sold on this idea initially, but Dominic has a point. If everyone knows she’s with me, they’ll back off. I need to tread lightly when Lexi comes out of the bedroom. If I refer to her as mine, she’ll probably flip. Still, the thought of her getting all riled up—cheeks flushing, those piercing green eyes shooting daggers—well, it’s pretty tempting.
Damn! How do I remember every little detail of her face so intensely? The image of her at the Casino entrance last night is still crystal clear in my mind. And now, she’s right here in my house, in my life, stirring up all sorts of emotions in me. But not in my bed. Not yet, anyway. Ugh. I can’t even let myself entertain that notion. Tempting, Gabriel, but not safe.
Just as I’m about to finish making the salad, Lexi walks over to me from the bedroom. She’s changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that reveal the delicate lace of her bra, her toned legs, and her curvy figure. She walks barefoot, shivering slightly as her feet meet the cold kitchen tiles.
“Hi. What’s that you’re making?” Lexi asks. She seems a little less on edge now. Maybe a nice dinner will be a chance to connect and learn more about her. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling she’s hiding something. I told Dean to gather more intel while he’s with her dad. But that’ll take time, and I want to get social media stories about us out there ASAP before people forget about the Casino ball.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t ask what you wanted to eat. How does chicken and salad sound?” I ask.
“Great. I take it you rarely eat at home in the evening?”
“Not really, no. My work keeps me constantly on the move.”
“What’s a typical workday like for you?”
“Look, let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you about my work if you agree to tell me more about yourself.”
“What else do you need to know?” She got tense again. How the hell do I get through to her?
“Come on, Lexi. We talked about it at the office today. We agreed you’d give me a list of people who might hold a grudge against you and tell me more about your life when you’re not working for the Maiers. Wasn’t that the deal?”
I put the salad bowl on the counter next to her and hop on a chair. “I can throw in some ham, too, if you like.”
“No worries. It looks great. No need for anything extra. I can’t sleep if I eat too much and so late.” She takes tiny bites as her eyes dart around the room, flitting like a nervous butterfly and landing anywhere but on me. Maybe this little buffer time is what we need before we get to the tougher conversation.
“Look up,” I say, pointing to the living room ceiling with the big skylight.
“Wow, I hadn’t noticed. You can watch the sky at night. I can see why you didn’t want to add another floor. Did you buy it like this?”
“No, I sort of designed it myself. It’s not finished yet. I’ve only moved in six months ago.”
“Yeah, everything looks new. I thought it was because you don’t come here very often. ”
“That, too.”
Lexi’s busy grabbing the last of the salad leaves. But soon, she’ll have to look up and talk to me. I stand up to get an ice-cold bottle of water from the fridge, my go-to brain booster. Maybe it’ll help me navigate the uncharted territory of actually talking to her.
“You know, I’m not some porcelain trinket you have to keep from breaking. I’m used to taking care of myself. Always have,” she says in a defiant voice.
I freeze mid-step on my way back to the counter with the bottle in my hand. Where did that come from? It doesn’t matter; maybe that’s her way of breaking the ice.
“It’s just a guy thing. Being protective of women. But when you said you’ve always taken care of yourself… tell me more about that. You know pretty much everything about me already. I answered your questions on our way here and earlier today in Peter’s office. You can trust me, Lexi. I want us to work together.”
“I’d rather not talk about it and keep my private life private.”
“I get that. But until a few months ago, you were living in a small town where everyone knows everyone, so you must be used to people talking about you.”
“This ruined my childhood, you know. I couldn’t handle all the attention.”
“And why were they so interested in you?”
“People around me started fixating on my abilities. Remember what Peter said?”
I lean in, giving her my full attention with a silent nod.
“I have a special skill people envy me for. It’s my photographic memory. Every detail, every memory, is etched into my brain. But it’s only ever caused me pain, made people jealous, and brought unwanted attention and threats. My parents didn’t know what to do with me. For a long time, kids called me a freak or weirdo. It’s a nightmare I still live in. But I’m not a victim.”
Hearing her say that makes me see Lexi in an entirely new light. I suspected Peter was using her and her abilities shamelessly, and now the thought makes my blood boil. My clients rarely come to me clean. When they seek private security, it’s usually after shady dealings gone wrong. Rich embezzlers fleeing their partners, power-hungry politicians, or fame-obsessed artists willing to risk everything for a fleeting spotlight. All desperate, all hiding secrets.
But the cases we take on as Protectors are something else. They’re about everyday people facing extraordinary situations that can’t be fixed by following the rules. Watching her handle this mess, it’s hard not to be impressed. Here she is, facing down some unseen threat, and for someone so young… well, I know a thing or two about a rough start in life—Navy or not, the scars of being an orphan never fully fade.
Maybe it’s that shared understanding, the weight of a life that wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows, that hits me. The Navy turned me into a block of responsibility, a shield against the world’s crap. But seeing her facing this with such quiet strength… it twists something inside me. There’s no way I’m letting her fight this alone.
“I guess people ask you all the time why you’re not using your skills to make some extra money by gambling or counting cards, right?”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. That’s usually how people react when they find out what I can do. That’s why I prefer to keep this under wraps. It’s hard, but in this big city, I can blend in and try to find my place.”
“But you, Lexi, you’re far from ordinary. Your gifts are extraordinary, and there’s no shame or reason to feel bad about them.”
“Wow. It’s clear we grew up differently. My teachers used to tell me that a good memory doesn’t make me any smarter.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough for a kid. ”
“Well, I guess I deserved it. I had this habit of memorizing the textbooks in the first few days of school and then calling out the teachers if they made mistakes during class. I used to embarrass my classmates by constantly proving I was better than them in every subject. I had no friends. Only Lena. She’s two years older than me and would beat the crap out of anyone who took a jab at me. You saw the legs on that woman—she’d put them to good use, getting into fights with other kids. She was the one who kicked ass for me in high school.”
“Why aren’t you in university now, getting ready for an academic career? I don’t know… studying science or math?”
“Getting a scholarship is hard. I taught myself for years using online quizzes and tests. I wanted to prove myself to those teachers who thought I wasn’t smart. Their pettiness only pushed me to work harder. I trained my brain to remember things, make connections, and understand when and where things happen.”
“Your official file says you went to university for a year and a few months into the second. What happened after that?”
“Did you look me up?”
“It’s a typical thing to do when I deal with clients. I gather intel on them from various sources.”
“You mean you think all your clients lie to you, so you investigate them?”
“That’s not why I do it. When people are personally involved, they tend to be biased. Clients often leave out information because they think it doesn’t matter. For me, it does—all of it. It helps me fill in the gaps in a plot with lots of holes.”
“Like a puzzle.”
“Yes, pretty much. I know you like puzzles. Peter mentioned that when he first told me about you. ”
The little window into Lexi’s life is about to close. She seems to be shutting down again.
“Hey, you didn’t tell me why you dropped out of school,” I try my luck one last time.
“It’s late, and I should go to bed. I’m not trying to dodge the question. It’s just painful to talk about that. I had to go back to take care of my dad. Health issues.”
“Is he okay now?”
“Our life has never been the same since then. But, yes, he’s better now. That’s why I could come to the city and work for Peter. And live life the way my dad wanted me to. But before I knew it, these threat letters started coming on. Some life…”
Her voice shakes. She’s been playing with her fork the whole time without looking at me. I only caught a bitter half-smile when she talked about the little pranks she’d pulled in school. She wipes her mouth with a napkin and takes tiny sips from her glass. As she turns around, I notice the scar on her upper lip, where her lipstick has faded.
Lexi sees me flinch and covers her mouth. “Just a minor accident,” she says before I get to ask. “I’ll go cover it up. I’ll be back to talk if you have any more questions. Sorry.”
She gets up to leave, but my hand shoots out, catching hers before I can even think. Her fingers slip perfectly between mine, a spark igniting where our skin connects. Heat floods my cheeks as I pull her closer. My heart stutters a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Gently, I meet her lips with mine, without forcing my tongue inside. Not a demand, but a whispered promise. She’s surprised but doesn’t fight back, not even after seconds go by, as she keeps her eyes closed and her hand on my arm.
I slowly part from her lips, our breaths still mingling in the intimate space between us. “There’s nothing to feel sorry about, Lexi. Don’t cover it, not for me. Scars are not ugly or something to be ashamed of. They’re like battle stripes, proof you faced something tough and came out the other side. They’re a reminder that you’re a survivor, that you healed, and that deep down, you’re braver than you might think.”