My cock rages in protest as I walk away from her. I’m done. Finished. Beaten. There’s no more walking away from her. Ever. I can’t exist without this scrap of a woman.
Valentina
I more or less abate my nausea with two crackers and ginger ale before getting ready to meet Kris. Charlie and I are halfway to my car when Rhett comes jogging up the driveway. From the way sweat drips from his body, he’s been out for a long run. Things between us have been awkward since Gabriel brought me back, mainly because I’ve been avoiding him. It’s not his fault, but I’m still upset that he betrayed me. In the end, before I ran, I felt like we were becoming friends.
“Hi,” I say to be polite without breaking my stride.
He grabs my wrist as I pass. “Valentina.”
I look back over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“Can I talk to you?”
“I have a lunch appointment.”
“It’ll only take five minutes.”
From the steel in his gaze, it’s clear he’s not going to budge.
“All right.”
He relaxes marginally and releases my grip. “I had to tell Gabriel.”
“I understand.”
“You don’t. Magda’s men were going to kill you. The only way to keep you safe was to play that pregnancy card. Magda will never hurt the mother of her grandchild.”
“Oh.” Understanding blooms in my senses. “I thought Gabriel… I thought he…”
“Was going to force you to get rid of the baby?”
“Yes.”
“Well, now you know.”
“I owe you a thank you, then.”
“I’ll settle for you not being angry with me.”
“I wasn’t angry. You work for Gabriel, and your loyalty lies with him. I just felt betrayed.”
A look of hurt washes over his face. “I didn’t want to compromise your trust, but as I said, if I’d kept my mouth shut you would’ve been dead.”
I look at Charlie quickly, but he doesn’t react to the statement.
Rhett holds out his hand. “Friends?”
“Friends.”
We shake on it.
“How are you doing?” His gaze trails to my rounder belly.
“I’m good when I’m not nauseous, vomiting, or crying for nothing.”
He grins. “I hope you’re giving Gabriel a go for his money.” His face sobers. “Is he treating you all right?”
“Yes.” I don’t want to discuss my relationship with Gabriel. “Very well.”
“Good.” He pats Charlie on the back. “I have to get ready for door duty. See you around.”
The atmosphere between us is lighter. There’s some of the old banter in his manner as he calls back, “At least the baby saved me from training you.”
“Not by a long shot.”
He turns and skips backward. “How come?”
“The minute he’s born we’re back to basics.”
He groans, but there’s a grin on his face as he jogs away.
We find Kris in the kitchen, frying veal schnitzels. The smell puts me off, but I swallow down my nausea.
“Sit down,” she says. “Food’s almost ready.”
“Yum–yum.” Charlie takes his usual seat at the table and sticks a napkin into his collar.
I pour the water while Kris dishes up rice, schnitzels, creamed spinach, and cinnamon pumpkin mash.
“So,” she says between two forkfuls of food, “I’ve decided to go for it.”
“The plans for extending?”
“The pool, the new operating room, the bigger kennel, everything.”
“Good for you.”
“I reckoned it’s rude to stare a gift horse in the mouth.”
My suspicion grows. Kris is too much of a principled person to change her mind overnight. “Is Gabriel behind this?”
She makes big eyes. “You know he’s paying.”
“I mean, did he tell you to do this for me?”
Caught out. Her cheeks flame. “He might’ve mentioned it’ll be good for you to get back into a business you enjoy.”
“You’ll shove your pride and do it for me?”
She reaches over the table and cups my hand. “He’s right, you know. Giving up your studies was damn hard. Nobody knows how much that meant to you better than me. You lost a thumb, and you can never be a veterinary surgeon, but so what? What’s wrong with being a clinical vet?”
“That’s not what I had my heart set on.”
“Then get your heart set on something else.” She points her finger at me. “You still have the passion. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I’m not going back to uni.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t have the heart for it any longer.”
“What about something different in the field?”
I stab at a piece of meat. “What’s your idea?”
“Practice management.”
“You want me to run your practice?”
“If you’re not going to be a vet, so be it. I can do with another vet on the staff, but I need someone to run the business more. It will free up my time to be a vet and not a manager.”
My interest is piqued. It sounds challenging and exciting.
She scoops up the rice with a piece of bread and pops it in her mouth. “More, Charlie?”
“Mo–more. It’s goo–good.”
She places another helping on his plate and holds the spoon to me, but I shake my head.
“We’ll need a receptionist,” she says, “and a vet nurse, maybe even a bookkeeper, and a makeover. A nicer reception area. I’d like to run a rescue center in conjunction with the practice. We have enough space in the back where the vegetable garden used to be. God knows, I don’t have time to plant a blade of grass, anyway.”
I can’t help but laugh at her contagious enthusiasm. “Slow down. We’ll first need a financial plan.”
“We?” She puts down her knife and fork. “Does that mean you’re in?”
“All right, I’m in.”
She grabs my hand on the one side and Charlie’s on the other. “The three musketeers.”
“The three of us,” I echo.
“Way to go, kiddo.”
Charlie, who picks up on the vibe, chants with Kris. “Way to go–go.” Laughter transforms his face. For a moment, he looks exactly like he did at the age of fifteen, before the accident.
I cup his cheek. “You like being a dog walker, don’t you?”
He agrees by banging the end of his knife on the table until I have to put my hand on his arm to still him.
“Finish up,” I tell him. “Kris has to go back to work.”
She looks at my untouched food. “Still feeling queasy?”
“Yep. There’s no telling when it will pass. I wish I was one of those lucky women who only felt sick during the first trimester or not at all.” A thought strikes me. “I hope I won’t let you down when it gets time to deliver this baby. Nobody in their right mind will employ a pregnant woman, let alone for such an important job.”
“We’ll work around it. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” I mean it. Kris has always been my lifebuoy, and she’s just thrown me a big one, thanks to Gabriel.
She pushes her plate aside. “How are things going at home?”
“Good.” I can’t help the smile or heat that creeps onto my face when I think about Gabriel’s reaction this morning. “Wonderful, actually.”
Her brow lifts. “Really?”
“Why do you ask as if it’s impossible?”
“Wonderful in what sense?”
“Gabriel is good to me. He’s kind, attentive, generous, loving…”
“Loving?”
“Yes.”
“You forgot to mention controlling, possessive, and jealous.”
“Yes, he’s controlling, but in a protective way.” He’d also threatened my best friend’s life, but she doesn’t need to know. As long as I stick to my end of the bar
gain, Gabriel will keep his word. “Let’s not forget this new practice management wouldn’t be possible without his generosity.”
“True, he does a hell of a good job of taking care of you, but that’s material.”
“As I said, there’s more to him than his money.”
“You fell for him.”
There’s no more denying it. “You know I have.”
“De–dessert,” Charlie says, licking his plate clean.
“Don’t do that,” I chastise. “It’s not polite.”
“There’s flan in the fridge,” Kris says without turning her attention away from me. “Help yourself, Charlie.” She takes my hand again. “Val, what are you doing? Playing house?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s nothing but role play if he doesn’t love you. Does he?”
I avert my eyes. “Probably not.”
There’s understanding and sympathy in her tone. “There’s your answer.”
“The thing is we’re living together, we’re legally married, and we’re going to have a baby. Most of the time, we’re happy. I’m not going to fight it any longer.” Anyway, I don’t have a choice. “We can’t always have everything we want, but we can be happy with what we have.”
“Okay.” She squeezes my fingers and lets go of my hand. “I’m behind you. One hundred percent. No more questions asked.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I may not agree with what Gabriel does for a living, but I’m grateful to him for pulling you out of Berea. That area is only getting worse. With Jerry being murdered and everything that––”
“What?” I grab her arm, my fingers digging into her flesh. “What did you say?”
“Shit. You didn’t know.”
“Jerry?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday. I’m sorry, Val. I thought Gabriel told you.” She adds apologetically, “Maybe he doesn’t know.”
Gabriel must know. Berea is his territory. He knows about everything that happens there. A sickening knowledge grows in my gut.
“How?” I ask.
“Shot between the eyes. A neighbor found him in his flat.”
“Do they have a suspect?”
“The newspaper article didn’t say. I don’t think the police are going to make a big effort for a car thief murdered in Berea.”
They won’t. A killing happens every twenty-five minutes. Jerry is one thief less to deal with, and nobody cares if his killer is caught.
Suffocation hangs like a cloak over me. The air in Kris’ kitchen is suddenly too thick to breathe.
Checking my watch, I keep my face even. “We’ll let you get back to work. Thanks for lunch.” I’m already on my feet, clearing the table.
“Leave that for me,” Kris says. “I’ll do it tonight.”
“I’m not letting you come home to a dirty kitchen.”
With Charlie’s help the dishes are done and dried by the time Kris is ready to reopen the practice. I walk to the car on shaky legs, barely conscious of what’s happening around me. Gabriel’s guards parked across the road acknowledge me and get into their cars when we do. I make sure Charlie is buckled up and drag a few deep breaths into my lungs. Alone with Charlie who won’t notice, I let the truth crash over me. My hands shake on the wheel as what Kris keeps on reminding me––the same thing I ignored and tried to forget––hits me hard.
My husband is a murderer, and he killed the man who helped me escape.
8
Valentina
The drive home passes in a haze. I can’t remember if I stopped at any traffic lights. All I can think about is that Jerry is dead because of me, and my husband killed him. Yes, Jerry was a scumbag who got me into this dire situation, but it doesn’t mean he deserved to die.
I put Charlie’s favorite cartoon on in his bedroom and storm to Gabriel’s office, not caring that my face is streaked with tears or that my mascara is running. Gabriel looks up when I open his door. The smile freezes on his face as he takes me in. He pushes to his feet, the ever-present flinch giving away the strain the action puts on his leg.
“How could you?” I cry.
“Valentina.” His voice is harsh, authoritative. “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down. You killed Jerry!”
A mixture of sympathy and regret soften his features. “Who told you?”
“It’s in the news.” The last thing I want is to implicate Kris.
Rounding his desk, he takes my shoulders. “I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Why? Was it because he gave me a car?”
“It’s not what you think.”
I slam my palms on his chest. “You son of a bitch.”
He catches my wrists. “Calm down, please, or I’ll be forced to tie you up.”
At that, I still. Gabriel never makes idle threats.
“Will you be quiet if I let go?” He sounds genuinely concerned. “All this screaming and crying can’t be good for the baby.”
I want to hate him, but I can’t. Not even when I think he shot Jerry. My shoulders slump.
“Will you listen?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Calmly,” he insists.
I don’t have a choice but to agree. “Calmly.”
He lets go of me slowly, testing me. When I don’t move, he brushes his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away the tears. “It was Scott who shot Jerry.”
“Magda’s bodyguard?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment.
“Tell me,” I urge. “The truth.”
“He helped you run, and he shouldn’t have. She had to make an example of him.”
There is doubt in the way he speaks the words. I get the feeling he doesn’t believe himself. “You were there?”
“Yes,” he says gravely.
Pushing his hands away, I cover my face. “Oh, my God, Gabriel. It’s my fault. He died because of me. Why didn’t you stop Scott?”
“He didn’t give me a chance. Valentina, look at me.” He grabs my arms and pulls my hands away from my face. “Jerry was no saint. He got Charlie into this mess.”
My look is cutting. “You mean he got me enslaved to you.”
His glacier eyes turn hard, and his hold tightens to the point of pain. “You don’t understand the meaning of the word slave. I made you a princess, but if you want to be treated like a slave, that can be arranged.”
Of all the cold, hard truths, this one cuts the deepest, because it’s another affirmation of what Kris keeps on telling me. Gabriel doesn’t love me. I’m an object. He can turn me from princess to slave as his mood changes.
The pain in my heart makes me lash out at him in anger. “What I want doesn’t matter, anyway. You’ll do with me as you please.”
“What you are to me is entirely in your hands. You can live in comfort and be cherished or be chained in my basement and sleep in a cage.”
“But I can never leave.”
“No, you can never leave.”
“Then I’m nothing but your prisoner.”
“That’s one way to see it. The other way of looking at it is that you’re my wife.”
Sobs push up from my chest and find their way to my lips. I was doing so well on make-believe until a couple of hours ago. How can it hurt so much? Why didn’t I listen to Kris? Why did I make myself vulnerable? Now it’s too late. I fell for him, and it fucking hurts that he’s not falling right back for me.
“I don’t understand.” I wrap my arms around myself and take a step back. “Why me? Why are you doing this to me?”
He eliminates the space between us with one, easy step. “I already told you, I don’t need a reason.”
“I hate you!” I accentuate the statement with a fist on his chest.
His words are tender, compassionate. “We’ve already established that.”
I don’t have the strength to fight alone any longer. I can’t fight him and myself. He made me fall in love with him knowing he’ll never love me back. How can any man be so cruel?
“Please, Gabriel, if you feel anything for me, anything at all, set me free.” It’s my only hope at salvaging what’s left of my heart.
His wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, carefully, as if I have wings of rice paper. The embrace is what he offers. This is his answer. He won’t set me free. What I get in return for love is a consolation hug.
“I hate you,” I say, sobbing in his arms, hating myself more because I can’t even mean the damned words.
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ve got you, baby.”
The man who inflicts the pain is the man who offers the balm, holding me against the warmth of his body and whispering soothing words in my ear. Gabriel is a constant that never changes. He takes care of me now like he does after he lashing me with his belt or palm. His behavior when he emotionally hurts me is the same as when he physically tortures me. I don’t have the strength not to take this olive branch he offers. I don’t have the strength not to fall into him. As always, he’s there to catch and carry me through his cruelty. As he lifts me into his arms and moves toward the stairs, I already mourn my surrender.
Gabriel
Every living being fights for one thing. Freedom. I claimed a woman and took that away from her. Instead of putting her in a cage, I clipped her wings to prevent her from flying away. In time, some caged creatures are tamed. Some remain wild forever. Valentina falls in the latter category. Her spirit is too strong, but my will is stronger. My need is fiercer. I’ll break her, over and over, make her submit to me time and time again, until we both blow out our last breaths.
She’s my black kitten.
She’s my forever.
Her tears move me, but not with the perverse lust I feel at her erotic pain. This pain cuts me. I carry her to our bedroom and nudge the door open. This is one of those occasions I want to love her gently, giving her comfort to make up for what I won’t give––the freedom she is fighting for. The love she deserves.
Making quick work of undressing us both, I lower her to the bed and cover her body with mine. I feel between her thighs to test if she’s ready and find her slick. Always wet for me. I don’t wait. I put my cock at her entrance, part her folds, and pierce her pussy.
Consent (The Loan Shark Duet Book 2) Page 12