by Sweet, Izzy
He’s truly clueless.
“I turned Bluetooth off…”
He grunts as if it makes sense, but I seriously doubt it does. I flip the button on the side of the phone and it falls silent.
“So… how come you don’t know how to use a phone?” I ask, hoping to distract him while I poke around on the screen.
He answers casually like we’re discussing the weather. “I just did ten years in a supermax.”
My head jerks up in surprise and I blink at him. Though, I don’t really know why I’m surprised by this information. He did try to murder everyone attending my wedding… and succeeded in taking down most of them.
“Let me guess? For murder?” I ask sarcastically, not expecting him to glance over at me and answer with a, “Yeah.”
A little chill courses down my spine.
“Only ten years, though?” I say, poking for more information as I break eye contact and drop my attention back down to the phone. “Sounds like you got off easy.”
“I was sentenced to life,” he says casually again, as if it’s not a big fucking deal.
What the hell? Did he escape?
“How did you get out so soon? Parole?”
I try to keep my fingers from flying across his phone. There are so many ways I could reach out for help, but I don’t want to tip him off.
“No. I was pardoned.”
“You’re shitting me,” I blurt out, my head jerking up again in surprise.
A big fat shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “By the governor himself.”
Damn. That means his organization must have the governor in their pocket, and if their ties are that powerful, there’s no telling how high or deep they go.
I’m probably well and truly fucked.
My fingers hover over the send button. I managed to type out a short message, planning on blasting it out to my social media, but this new information makes me pause.
What if they have the cops, the FBI, or any other law enforcement agency in their pockets? Would sending a distress signal get me killed?
I hesitate for too long.
Brows pulling together, Gabriel scowls at me. “What are you doing?”
I swipe quickly out of my account without pushing send. “Just checking out your apps.”
He holds his hand out expectantly.
With a huff, I start to hand over the phone when it starts vibrating.
Glancing down at the screen, I ask, “Who’s Lucifer?”
“Answer it.”
With a shrug, I swipe the phone open and hit the icon for speakerphone, figuring that’s what he wants.
“Gabriel,” a smooth voice drawls out.
“Lucifer,” Gabriel says back.
Phone still in my hand, I turn my attention to my window, pretending I’m not that interested in the conversation. Though I very much am.
I recognize the name Lucifer, not only from the day I eavesdropped on Alexei and my father, but also from rumors I’ve heard over the years. If what I’ve heard is true then he’s currently the most powerful and feared man in Garden City.
He has the entire city in his tight grasp.
Lucifer’s smooth drawl seems to slide out of the phone as he says, “Normally, I don’t interfere when one of my men sneaks off with their… blushing bride… and holes up with her until she is pregnant. But I fear, in this instance, there are important matters that need to be discussed first.”
There just aren’t enough what the fucks for today. Seriously. Blushing bride? Sneaking off? Holing up until she’s pregnant?
Do his men have a habit of doing this?
I slide a glance toward Gabriel. Our gazes collide, crashing into each other. I quickly look away in surprise and hope I haven’t given away my interest.
Surely, he wasn’t planning on doing that…
“What important matters?” Gabriel grits out as if he’s irritated.
There’s a pause and then Lucifer says carefully, “We’re meeting at the compound. Attendance is mandatory.”
I hear Gabriel suck in a slow breath through his teeth and then release it. “I’ll be there.”
“Good, good,” Lucifer says, sounding pleased. “I’m looking forward to giving my congratulations to you and your beautiful bride, in person.”
Gabriel grunts in acknowledgement and the call disconnects.
Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I glance over to see Gabriel holding his hand out to me.
Reluctantly, I place the device in his big palm, carefully avoiding touching any of his skin.
After lifting up and shoving the phone back in his pocket, Gabriel hits the blinker and the car suddenly slows.
A couple of cars pass us before he makes a u-turn, pointing us in the opposite direction.
I look at him in alarm. Why is he suddenly turning around? He wasn’t… he couldn’t possibly have been planning on doing what Lucifer said…
Our situation is obviously different.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Gabriel asks, making me realize I’ve been staring at him.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You heard, to the compound,” he answers.
“In Garden City?”
“Yeah.”
I bite my lip, contemplating my next question and the best way to phrase it without offending him.
He glances over and his gaze drops down to my mouth. His eyes seem to burn into me, darkening with heat.
A flush works its way up my neck.
Suddenly self-conscious, I release my lip.
He jerks his attention away.
What the hell was that?
Taking a little breath to help calm my racing heart, I ask, “Do your… associates have a habit of sneaking off with women and getting them pregnant?”
Gabriel rolls his massive shoulders in shrug. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve been in prison.”
Damn. Yeah. I guess that makes sense.
Focusing my attention outside again, I replay Lucifer and Gabriel’s words in my head. So far, Gabriel has given me no reason not to trust him since he offered me his protection. You know, besides being a convicted murderer and spending ten years in prison.
Perhaps I’m being just a little paranoid.
Then he suddenly adds out of the blue, “I wouldn’t put it past Simon, though. Fucker probably kept his wife tied up and locked in the house until he got her pregnant.”
“Seriously?” I ask, unsure if he’s joking or not.
Gabriel looks at me, not a hint of amusement on his face. “After listening to him on the phone, do you think any woman would willingly put up with his shit?”
“No,” I have to admit with a sinking feeling of dread.
Perhaps Lucifer was stating the truth. That doesn’t necessarily mean though that Gabriel would do such a thing. After all, in his own words, he’s been locked up in prison.
Just to be sure though, I try to joke, “You wouldn’t do that, right? Obviously, you’re not as annoying as him…”
Gabriel just looks at me as he deadpans, “I don’t know. Depends on how much you fight me.”
I laugh. “You’re joking.”
He has to be.
Gabriel’s lips begin to curve with amusement and he arches a brow. “Am I?”
My laughter trails off and I feel the need to firmly remind him, “Remember, you agreed not to touch me without my permission.”
“I did,” he agrees with a nod, and then his lips stretch into a full grin. “But I didn’t say anything about not getting you pregnant...”
6
Gabriel
The moment Lucifer called to inform me of the mandatory meeting, I felt the tension in my shoulders increase tenfold. Fuck, the tension in my shoulders isn’t nearly as thick as the tension in the car.
Meghan posed the question of whether I’ll be touching her without her permission… and a lot of things could cause that to happen…
But what I think she means is will I be taking h
er against her will…
“I won’t rape you, Meghan. That’s not my bag,” I say with a grunt as I pull to a stop at a red light.
I won’t have to take her or force her. When it comes time, she’ll be coming to me and begging me for it.
Watching her body, I notice she doesn’t edge toward the door for escape, but the way she’s riding that side of the car, I can feel she wants to get away from me as much as she wants to kiss the fuck out of me. We’ve got that fucking animal magnetism.
“I… I know that. I just don’t understand exactly what the fuck is going on,” she snaps at me.
Obviously, us turning around and heading toward Lucifer has thrown her off kilter.
Fuck, it wasn’t in my plans either. I expected, at the very least, to be able to head back to the hotel room I got last night. But now the boss wants us there… At the fucking compound.
Joy of fucking joys.
“We’re heading to the compound for a debriefing,” I say, and my damn hand wants to reach out to feel hers.
Just touching her skin back there in the church has me itching for more contact. No one else but hers. I can smell her perfume from here and it’s fucking intoxicating in this small fucking space of a vehicle.
Meghan’s the first person I’ve touched in ten long fucking years that I didn’t want to commit violence upon.
I can’t stop the thoughts of how different this world is. I went in a man and came out something else. I feel like a fucking shadow of death. I can’t be near people or touch them without wanting to strangle the life out of them. Something broke inside of me while I was in the supermax. Something that I can’t name or even understand. Killing that fucking Russian prick last night helped though, it let me feel alive again. I wasn’t the fucking one being beat up on.
I was in control.
Last night I dumped the corpse on the steps of the church, lit it on fire, and headed out to an out-of-the-way motel. That was my night. No parties or huge ass meals. I got a bottle of soda from the vending machine and a bag of chips.
John offered me a place at his house to stay. So did most of the other guys. I wasn’t ready for that, though. I don’t think I’d be good in a house full of kids or around happy people. I didn’t do those kinds of things back then, before I went in, and I won’t be doing them now.
John saw my face when he tried to touch me. He knows how much I don’t want to be touched by another human being. It’s something deep down and primal. I survived ten years of hell, and now I’m out here in this bright shiny fucking world. I can’t seem to get a grip on the pace of the world surrounding me.
Maybe that’s why I stood there when she tried to put a bullet through my chest.
There was more than enough time to snatch that gun from her tiny hands. I just didn’t do it. Was I not sharp enough, was I not up to my old self? Or did I want her to put that slug through my heart so I could at least feel something besides the dead fucking husk of a body I walk around in?
Dead and full of fucking hunger.
Hunger for an outlet.
“Are you going to answer me?” Meghan asks with annoyance.
“What?” I ask as I turn my gaze to her.
“I asked what is the compound? Are you guys in a cult or something?”
“Or something,” I say as I fight to keep my eyes on the road and not her.
She’s beautiful, feisty as fuck, and has those lips that would look amazing wrapped around my cock. Although, in truth, I’m getting that cock-biter vibe from her all of a sudden.
Dead inside and all I can think about is pulling her over to my chest and hoping she can breathe life into my brain.
“Look, this really doesn’t need to be like this…” she says as she looks out the window.
“It does,” I say simply.
I don’t have any other words for her. She’ll learn we won’t be stopping the wheel that’s been set in motion.
* * *
Pulling into the compound is like going back in fucking time, except not at all. All those memories of my early days in the family are there in the back of my mind, but this place has become something so different I almost can’t believe it’s the same place.
The first thing I notice is the wall surrounding the house. The chain link fence has been removed, replaced by a huge stone wall with mini towers on the corners. A huge mammoth gate blocks off the private drive with a fucking guard station.
Fuck, time and money has turned this place into a fucking fortress.
Slowing down to enter the gate, I stare at the guard who motions for me to open the window. Who the fuck is this guy?
Pushing the button down, I’m half-tempted to reach out and rip his fucking throat out as he touches the trigger of his semi-assault rifle.
“Sir,” he says simply, and if he was close enough I really would hurt him.
“Open the fucking gate,” I growl out at him.
“Gabriel…” Meghan hisses from my side as she watches more men surround the SUV we’re sitting in.
It’s a tense couple of seconds before I hear a radio squawk from the guard’s shoulder. “Let him in.”
The guard simply turns away from me. Heading back to the guard house, he steps inside to activate the gate.
“Asshole,” comes from my gritted teeth as I gun the engine of the vehicle.
Meghan quietly murmurs to me as the steering wheel starts to groan from how hard I’m gripping it. “Calm down, Gabriel. They’re just doing their job.”
The blood rushing to my brain slowly abates as I pull the SUV through the gates and down the drive to the massive house. I can slowly feel my hands loosening on the wheel as her touch radiates a feeling of warmth.
“Fuck,” I say with a shake of my whole body.
The red haze that started to flood my vision has abated completely when I look over at her.
Her hand slowly pulls away from me as she watches me. Is she afraid of me? I can’t really tell, but she doesn’t act like it. If anything, she seems to be emboldened by being able to calm me.
She should be afraid of me, not fucking smirking when I look her in the eyes.
“You okay there, big guy? We kind of need a steering wheel if we want to drive away from here,” she says with that sexy fucking smirk.
“I don’t like guards, and I really don’t like asshole guards,” I grumble before hopping out of the parked vehicle.
It’s fucking springtime here in Garden City, and as fucking usual it’s freezing temperatures one day and mild the next. All the same, as I go around the car to help my struggling bride out of the vehicle, I take a moment to pull my black tactical coat from the back. It’s not fucking cold outside right now, but it’s not exactly warm.
Going around to her side of SUV, I start yanking out yards and fucking yards of fabric. I know my bride was stuffed into the fucking passenger side of the vehicle, I’m the one who put her there, dammit. But right now, I can’t find anything but the ankle of a very pissed off woman.
“Who the fuck even wants to wear one of these bulky dresses in the first place?” she shouts as I finally grab her forearm and yank her out of the seat.
Pulling out the combat knife attached to my belt, I give her a look. “You didn’t pick this fucking thing out?”
Eyeing the knife, she shakes her head slowly. “No, they had me so drugged up I had no clue I was even wearing this until right before the wedding started.”
“Ah.” Kneeling down in front of her, I start slicing through most of the frilly shit that I can’t even remember the name of.
Hacking my way through until I see her calves, I quickly move around her, trying to trim off as much of the material as I can.
“Holy shit!” she groans when she looks down at the huge pile of white stuff. “You cut off like thirty pounds. My hips hurt so bad from all that damn weight on them.”
Lifting up my jacket to her, I motion for her to take it. “Would’ve been better for the both of us if we’d had a
nudist wedding.”
Snatching the jacket out of my hands, she tucks herself inside of it before she responds. “Not on your life “
Looking down into her eyes, I can’t help but notice how small she is inside my coat. She almost looks like a lost little waif. But those fiery eyes stare back at me with a spirit that goes straight to my cock. This little one is all fucking kinds of danger bound in a little body.
“We’ll see,” I say as I turn toward the house.
“Fuck no, we won’t.” she growls at my back before jogging to catch up to me.
My silence must really irritate her though because she jabs me hard in the ribs to ask, “What are we doing here?”
“My boss wants to have a talk. I suspect it’s about the marriage and what’s going on with your father and your former fiancé,” I say as we approach the door. “There’s a lot of shit blowing around the city right now and we’d rather it be blowing in our favor.”
“But I don’t have anything to do with this!” she snarls. “I was being forced to fucking marry him. I didn’t get to choose whether I wanted to marry him any more than I got to choose being married to you.”
Reaching up to knock on the door, I’m tempted to use the knocker, but instead I use my fist as a hammer and just give it a couple of good thumps. “Yeah, well, we all have shit choices in life. You said yes, too late to back out now.”
“You didn’t even give me a choice!” she shouts just as the door swings open.
A beautiful young woman appears before us, her eyes taking us in quickly. “You must be Gabriel and Meghan.”
Nice, she didn’t even bat an eye with how either of us are dressed.
“I am,” I say.
“Good, please come in. Matthew is up in his office, but I’m sure he’ll be down soon,” the woman says. “I’m Lily, Matthew’s wife.”
As soon as we step into the warm home, I can hear the distant screech of children running around the house. What the fuck kind of twilight zone did I enter? The last time I was here, I was leaving the house with handcuffs on my wrists as multiple dead bodies were being taken away.
Kids… a wife…
Fucking hell, who the hell has Lucifer turned into?