Dark Angel: A Dark Romance: London Ruthless Series Book 1 (The London Ruthless Series)

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Dark Angel: A Dark Romance: London Ruthless Series Book 1 (The London Ruthless Series) Page 12

by Sadie Kincaid


  His face changed in an instant as what I had said registered with him. ‘Sam,’ he said.

  ‘There. Feel better now you know, do you?’ I snapped at him, even though I knew I was being irrational and unfair to him. How was he supposed to know what had happened to me while I’d been married to Jackson?

  ‘I’m sorry, Sam. If I’d known … I wouldn’t have even asked.’ He put his hand on my shoulder and I shrugged him off.

  ‘Sam-' he said again.

  ‘Don’t, Gabe. I don’t want your pity.’

  ‘Why do you always mistake my concern for pity?’

  ‘I think I need to go home,’ I said, standing up. The memory was becoming too painful and I needed to process it alone, without Gabriel looking at me wondering if I was going to crack. Questioning if I really was broken.

  He stared at me for a moment and I thought he was going to ask me to stay. But he didn’t.

  ‘I’ll ring you a cab,’ he said as he took his phone out of his pocket and dialled the number.

  I sat in silence as I waited for my taxi to arrive and Gabriel did the same, watching me the whole time. When he received the alert to say it was outside, I stood up. He walked over to me and tried to pull me into a hug but I shrugged him off.

  ‘Don’t,’ I said.

  He dropped his arms by his sides. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay,’ I replied as I walked out of his house and climbed into the waiting taxi.

  Chapter 29

  Samantha

  I twirled a paperclip around between my fingers as sat at my desk and thought about the previous night. Having to reveal some of my messed up past to Gabriel had been an unexpected turn of events. He hadn’t asked for detail and I hadn’t offered any, but I wondered if it was something I’d have to tell him about eventually. It was a part of my past that had taken me a long time to come to terms with. I had been young and naïve and the shame had weighed heavy on me for a long time. It was only through the wisdom of experience that I’d realised that shame was never mine to carry. It belonged squarely on the shoulders of others.

  I knew I’d been unfair to Gabriel. I didn’t doubt that he hadn’t intended to cause me any pain. He couldn’t possibly have known that one of Jackson’s many methods of controlling me was to allow his friends to have sex with me when I had stepped out of line. He saved it for the most heinous of my crimes — trying to leave him, but it was a crime I committed often — until that last time, at least. After the trial, I had found an amazing therapist who had introduced me to EMDR therapy — a method of processing memories that enabled me to live with them without allowing them to overwhelm me, or have any power over me. It was effective, but it wasn’t fool-proof.

  But all the therapy in the world couldn’t convince me that I wasn’t broken. On good days, I believed that maybe I wasn’t. I’d been married to a psychopath who had tried to destroy me and I was still standing. But on my darkest days, I would question whether I attracted all this pain into my life because I was fundamentally damaged in some way. Perhaps there was some malfunction in my brain that made me essentially unlovable and incapable of love in return? Wasn’t that why I rebelled so much as a teenager and never had a long-term boyfriend like my friends did?

  My therapist had helped me to realise that all my memories of my life before Jackson were viewed through the lens of my life with him — twisted by his lies and manipulation, until I no longer knew the truth. I don’t recall ever feeling broken when I was younger. I had never wanted to be a burden to my father after my mum died. I wanted to be independent and fierce and I’m sure if I went back in time and spoke to that girl, she would tell me that she was. But of course she was broken. Because I am. That was why Jackson chose me.

  I heard a noise and looked up to see Gabriel standing in my office doorway. I hadn’t realised it was that time.

  ‘Ah, my bodyguard,’ I said, regretting my tone as soon as the words left my mouth.

  If he was offended, he didn’t show it. ‘Are you ready, Sam?’ he asked.

  I looked at my open laptop and the papers strewn across my desk. I had hardly done any work all day. I had thought about my past, and about Gabriel and how he could possibly ever see a future with someone like me — who had more baggage than Heathrow’s lost and found.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I just need to tidy this up.’

  He crossed the room. ‘Let me help,’ he said.

  His hand brushed mine as he picked up some of the papers and I looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry I ran away last night.’

  He put the papers into the folder as I held it open. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for,’ he said softly.

  I put the folder away in my drawer and locked it. ‘Ready,’ I said as I walked around the desk and stood in front of him. Putting my hands on his waist, I pulled him towards me until our bodies were pressed together.

  ‘Does what I told you make you see me any differently?’ I asked.

  He frowned at me. ‘Of course it doesn’t.’ He reached up and stroked my cheek. ‘I can’t even imagine the things you’ve been through,’ he said. ‘I wish I’d known.’

  ‘It’s in the past. It’s part of who I am, but it doesn’t define me. I don’t want it to define us. Please don’t feel sorry for me.’

  ‘I don’t, Sam. But you can’t tell me things like that and expect me not to react. I’m only human. I know you’ve worked hard to deal with your past, but what that bastard did to you will never be easy for me to hear. But that’s not because I feel sorry for you, it’s because I hate him and because the thought of anyone hurting you makes me feel sick.’

  I stared at him unsure how to respond.

  ‘All I’m asking is that you give me the benefit of the doubt. Despite how I might react, and what you think I’m thinking, please know that I am never feeling sorry for you.’

  ‘Okay,’ I agreed. ‘If you can promise me that when I tell you something awful from my past, that you won’t treat me like I’m fragile.’

  ‘You are the least fragile person I know.’ He bent his head and kissed my neck. ‘Besides, we all have our demons, baby,’ he said in that low growl of his that made my legs tremble.

  ‘Even you?’ I asked.

  ‘Especially me,’ he replied. Then before I could ask what those demons were, he ran his hands over my hips and onto my backside, pressing my body even closer to his as he kissed me long and hard. I could feel his erection growing as his tongue explored my mouth.

  ‘Jesus, Gabe. Take me home,’ I panted as we came up for air.

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ he said with a grin as he took my hand and led me out of the office.

  Chapter 30

  Samantha

  Gabriel and I had eaten dinner and were sitting on the sofa together. He’d fucked me in the hallway as soon as we’d got to my apartment and our argument from the previous night had been forgotten. Now he was watching a documentary about polar bears and the melting ice caps as I sat with my legs draped over his. I absent-mindedly curled his hair around my fingertip.

  ‘Are you bored?’ he asked me with a grin.

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘Because you’re staring at me. Is the plight of the poor polar bears not interesting enough for you?’

  I smiled at him. ‘Not half as interesting as you. Anyway, I don’t like documentaries. I only like trashy reality television and soppy romance films. You know this.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course. Nothing too highbrow for you. I remember now.’

  He knew that it was another remnant from my dysfunctional marriage — another tiny form of rebellion. Jackson never let me watch what I wanted to on television. All he ever watched was the news, documentaries, or war films. So now I refused to watch anything vaguely educational, except for the news occasionally when some of my cases were involved.

  ‘I do sometimes make exceptions for fluffy polar bears and other cute animals though,’ I said.

  Sensing that Jackson was on my mind, as h
e often was, Gabriel put his arm around me. ‘Did you ever try and leave him?’

  I looked at him. God, how naïve he was. As though leaving had been an option.

  ‘Yes. In the beginning, I tried to leave all the time. But he would always find me, always bring me back. In the end, he got fed up with it, and so he made sure I never tried again.’

  ‘Why, what did he do?’ he asked as he turned the television off and faced me, his voice full of concern.

  I stared at him. I had never told anyone except my therapist about it. I hadn’t told the police during my interviews. I hadn’t revealed it during the trial when I was cross examined over and over again – I couldn’t bear the thought of all those people knowing. Could I talk about it now? The therapy I’d undergone had helped me to deal with the memories in a way that made them less painful to relive. But given my reaction last night to him asking me a perfectly innocent question, perhaps this was something he should know about. It probably explained so much about why I was the way I was.

  I took a deep breath as I prepared to tell him about one of the worst experiences of my life.

  ‘It was a few days after my twenty-fifth birthday. I’d left Jackson the week before, but he’d found me, like he always did, and brought me home like a runaway teenager. He’d been furious as usual. He’d threatened me. Then he’d threatened to hurt my dad. Sometimes, if it had taken him a while to find me, and he was really pissed off, he would invite one of his friends around to help keep me in line,’ I swallowed as I looked up at Gabriel and saw him grimace.

  He didn’t say anything and I looked down at my trembling hands. I couldn’t look at his face when I told him the next part. ‘Anyway, a few days later, he bought me a beautiful dress and told me to put it on, because he was taking me somewhere special — somewhere that I’d never forget. I assumed the being nice and making up stage was about to begin. He was often on his best behaviour for a few weeks once he knew I was back to stay.

  We drove to a big house in the country and he told me we were staying for the weekend. I had protested that I hadn’t packed any clothes and he’d laughed and told me not to worry, because I wouldn’t be needing any. I assumed the house was a little hotel, and that we’d be holed up in a room for the weekend — we’d done that before when he’d been trying to apologise for something. But it hadn’t been that at all.’

  I could feel my heart hammering in my chest now and I reached over to the coffee table and picked up the glass of water I’d left there earlier. I took a sip and tried to steady my erratic breathing.

  Gabriel put a warm hand over mine. ‘I’m here, Sam. Just take your time,’ he said softly.

  I looked up at him and nodded. ‘It was the house of one of his friends. Four of his friends were already there, staying at the house too for the weekend. I’d met two of them before under similar circumstances, but it had only ever been one at a time before then.’

  Gabriel sucked in a breath and I swallowed down the knot of fear and anxiety that was forming in my chest. I had to get the next part out, because then he would know, and I’d never have to talk about it again.

  ‘They passed me around between themselves for the weekend. Sometimes Jackson joined in too. But mostly he just watched, or held me down when I got too feisty.’ I let out a long shaky breath. I didn’t tell Gabriel how they had laughed at me when I fought back and had tried to convince me that I was really enjoying myself.

  ‘Jesus, Sam!’ he growled. I saw his fists clenched at his sides, his whole body rigid like a piece of iron. ‘I wish … I would have …’ he shook his head as though he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. ‘What the fuck!’ he finally hissed.

  ‘He told me it was my punishment for leaving. He wanted to remind me that I was his property and he could do whatever he liked with me. He told me if I ever tried to run again, I would suffer more of the same — or worse. I never tried to leave after that and he never did it again. But sometimes those same men would come to our house for a party, bringing their wives along too. They would leer at me, like I was some sort of party favour. They would try and talk to me and share crude inside jokes when their wives weren’t around, as though they thought I had somehow enjoyed them raping me. Perhaps Jackson had told them that I did?’

  I finished talking and stared at Gabriel, trying to figure out what was going through his mind. I hated to be pitied and he knew it. But, despite that, I knew that as hard it was for me to relive that experience, it would also have been hard for him to hear.

  He pulled me into his arms, so I was sitting on his lap. He brushed the hair from my face. ‘Give me their names, Sam, and I will make sure they suffer. I will make them feel more pain than they ever could have imagined,’ he growled.

  I shook my head. ‘I appreciate the offer, but no. They’re not worth it, Gabe. Besides, we’re talking about some powerful people here.’

  ‘I don’t care how powerful they think they are,’ he scowled at me. ‘I will bury the fucking lot of them — including Carver.’

  I placed my hand on his chest and felt his heart hammering underneath my fingertips. The anger radiated from him in waves. Somehow, my desire to calm him down, made my own anxiety easier to handle.

  ‘Please, don’t let them take up any space in your head, Gabe. I dealt with this a long time ago. It’s not something I want to think about. It’s certainly not something I want you to waste any energy on. I told you because it’s part of what makes me the way I am. But it’s in my past and I’d prefer to leave it there.’

  ‘I don’t know what else to say, Sam,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘I can’t even imagine what you went through, and how you dealt with that.’

  ‘I dealt with it by burying it — at least at first. Then I found a great therapist during the trial. She was amazing. She really helped me.’

  He swallowed hard. ‘No matter what you say, I need you to know that I will kill that fucker with my bare hands if he ever touches you again, Sam. I promise you that.’

  I nodded. I didn’t feel like it came from a place of pity, so I could understand that he would want to hurt the man who’d hurt me. I just hoped he never had to live up to the promise.

  ‘I think you’re wrong when you tell me you weren’t made of glass,’ he said as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

  I blinked at him. ‘And why’s that, Gabe?’

  ‘Because you’ve walked through fire and have come through the other side, stronger and more beautiful than before.’

  ‘You’re such a poet,’ I smiled at him and he pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms tighter around me. I never felt ashamed about my past any more. None of it was my fault. I knew that. But in my years as a solicitor I had come across so many people who judged victims of sexual abuse. People who assumed that she must have been asking for it. Or that she enjoyed it really. It used to make me so angry. As a defence solicitor, I often had to defend alleged perpetrators and I did it to the best of my ability. Everyone, guilty or innocent, was entitled to legal representation, and I believed in the justice system. But when I’d been asked to defend one of three young men who’d been accused of gang raping one of their college classmates, I’d quit and had taken a job working for the Crown Prosecution Service instead.

  Jackson had been furious with me, but I couldn’t do it anymore. The defence’s primary tactic in the case had been to discredit the witness and paint the perpetrators as respectable, middle class young men. I’d known they were guilty because they’d told me, yet it was my job to be part of the legal team that would pull this young woman’s sexual history apart on the stand and make her question whether she had in fact been asking for it — and make a jury do the same?

  ‘Are you okay?’ Gabriel asked softly.

  I nodded. I was. But I also needed to know whether what I had told him, had changed the way that he saw me. I didn’t want him to look at me and only see my past. I didn’t want his pity.

  I sat up and straddled him, guid
ing his hands down my body. ‘Sam,’ he groaned. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Please, Gabe. I need this,’ I breathed against his neck.

  He responded without hesitation then, understanding exactly what I needed from him.

  Chapter 31

  Samantha

  I was filing away some papers when I heard the buzz of the external intercom. It was just after six and everyone else had gone home for the evening, even Nick had left early to pick up his kids from his ex-wife’s house. They were spending the Easter bank holiday weekend with him and he’d been excited about it all day. I had some exciting plans myself. To celebrate our one month anniversary, Gabriel had invited me away for the weekend to his friend’s cottage in the countryside. I had thought about little else all week. I’d arranged for him to pick me up at six o’clock instead of his usual five so I could get some office admin done and enjoy our weekend away without worrying if I’d missed something.

  The outer doors of Donovan Cook could be opened by a button in my office. There was a similar one in Nick’s too. It was only the reception desk though which allowed whoever was inside to speak to the visitor. I knew it would be Gabriel, and I’d almost finished the last of my filing, so I pressed the button to let him in rather than walking to reception and interrupting my work.

  I heard the footsteps walking towards my office, and the squeaking of a soft shoe on the tiles. That was odd. Gabriel’s shoes never squeaked. I felt my heart start to race.

  Don’t be stupid, Samantha! He’s probably been to the gym and is wearing his trainers!

  Despite telling myself that, I felt the uneasiness growing until it felt as though every nerve in my body was on edge. I swallowed and tried to steady my ragged breathing.

 

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