by Gail McHugh
Gavin turned, his eyes narrowed. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Do I need to spell it out for you, little man?”
“Yeah. Maybe you do,” Gavin replied dryly. Crossing his arms, he perched on the edge of the table, awaiting his brother’s response.
Head tilted, Colton shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously, we worked on that bid for months. Where the fuck were you?”
His sentences were clipped, and Gavin could tell Colton was losing his patience. Though he was having a shitty day, guilt spilled through Gavin. Damn. Colton was correct. They’d worked endless hours to gain the account. To hell with himself; his brother had spent night after night away from Melanie and his kids, making sure everything was on point for the meeting.
Gavin’s face softened. “I’m sorry, all right?”
Colton sighed, his tone calmer. “What’s going on with you, man? I could tell something was bothering you when you came in this morning.”
Gavin glanced at his watch. He had a limited amount of time to explain what’d happened. Bringing his attention back to Colton, he felt his blood surge through his body. “Dillon hit Emily the morning of their wedding.”
Colton’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Yeah. He fucking hit her, and he showed up at her job yesterday.” Standing, Gavin plowed his hands through his hair as he thought about the conversation he and Emily had after making love last night. She’d further tilted his world on its axis when she’d explained that Dillon went to her school. Though Gavin wanted to make her quit her job that second, he couldn’t. Teaching meant too much to her and she loved her students. But it was all good. Without Emily’s knowledge, Gavin had already placed a call this morning, making sure she would be followed everywhere. A little cash and an old buddy who’d just finished a seven-year bid upstate would hang in Dillon’s shadow for the rest of his fucking life. “Did you know he hit her?”
Colton’s eyes went wide. “Jesus Christ, Gavin. Why the fuck would you assume I knew about it? No, I didn’t know.”
“I assumed you did because apparently Trevor knew and didn’t tell me.” Gavin stalked across the office to retrieve his keys as his head hammered through round two of last night’s conversation. He tried to shake off the mess of emotions that’d also taken up residence in his mind. Though Emily insisted Trevor made her promise to tell him if they got back together, it didn’t sit right with Gavin. He’d seen Trevor the day she moved into his penthouse. As a matter of fact, the fucker acted as if life was just dandy. Little did Gavin know his life was about to become more complicated than ever.
“He knew and didn’t say anything?” Colton questioned, sitting at the table. “And let me make myself very clear. I’m your brother. I’d never hide anything like that from you. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it. But he’s like a brother to me,” Gavin murmured, flicking his eyes down to his watch. No doubt his driver had already picked Emily up from work. He needed to leave to make it across town on time to meet her. “I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I plan on making sure I do soon. I’ll deal with him then.”
“I see.” Colton nodded. “Besides, I’m sure dealing with Dillon is on the top of your priority list.” Colton rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles, a wicked smirk tipping his mouth. “I’m slightly older and not as buff as you are, but if you want some help, I’d be more than willing to go a few rounds with the prick.”
Gavin hesitated a moment before turning toward the door. “Look, I have to get out of here. I’m meeting Emily for lunch in forty-five minutes.”
“Wait,” Colton blurted, standing to his feet. “How come you just gave me that look? Don’t tell me you’re not going to toss the asshole around a little for what he did to her. I know you better than you think. What’s up?”
Sighing, Gavin stopped shy of the door and turned around. “Emily made me promise I wouldn’t go after him.”
At this, Colton drew his brows together and chuckled. “Gavin, you’re dealing with a woman who also made you promise not to buy her a car because she thinks they’re unnecessary in Manhattan.”
Gavin couldn’t help grinning. “I know, right? Who gives a shit that it’s Manhattan. She has no idea, but I already ordered her one.”
“Exactly.” Colton laughed and sat back down. Features serious again, he tented his hands beneath his chin. “Now go order up a side of kicking some Dillon ass. What Emily doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Colton paused, his stare unwavering from Gavin’s. “But what you’re sitting on will kill you.”
Colton stated those last three words with an air of simplicity, but the truth in them shot through the room. Battling to stay true to his promise to Emily, no matter how badly he could taste Dillon’s blood, Gavin simply walked out of the office.
No matter if it was the middle of early morning traffic, midday traffic, or late afternoon rush hour, traffic in Manhattan blew. Fucking. Blew. Gavin was starting to think Emily’s reasoning for not wanting a car wasn’t so bad after all. But try as he might, he was addicted to driving. Sure, he could easily have his driver cart him around in his limo like the rich prick some perceived him to be, but Gavin couldn’t let go of the sense of control he had behind the wheel. He loved it. Windows rolled up and stereo blaring, cluster-fuck of Manhattan traffic or not, it was one of the few stolen moments he had to himself that actually calmed his nerves and levied his thoughts. However, as Gavin maneuvered through the tidal wave of vehicles clogging the streets, calm wasn’t something he was feeling. No. Not even close. His head was jarred. His thoughts became more fucked with each passing second. Though Chevelle’s “The Red” was bursting from the speakers, the only thing Gavin could hear was Colton’s words reverberating through his head.
“But what you’re sitting on will kill you.”
Sitting on it would kill Gavin. This he knew. He also knew if he stayed dormant, it would turn him into a bitter man. Although the thought was something Gavin couldn’t register now, he feared he would come to resent Emily as the years dwindled on. With the café he was supposed to meet Emily at clear in his line of sight, Gavin pictured her sitting at a table waiting for him. Only a few hundred feet and he’d be there. Another few minutes and he’d be able to keep his promise to her. At least for today.
“But what you’re sitting on will kill you.”
“Kill you…
Kill you…
Kill...
You…”
“Fuck it,” Gavin bit out. Before his brain had a chance to grasp what his body was doing, from the farthest left lane, Gavin cut the wheel hard right when the light turned green. He couldn’t hear or see them, but a symphony of horns and display of middle fingers from pissed off New York drivers were directed at him. His new destination? Dillon’s office in the financial district. Punching through the gears, Gavin managed to plow through the busy city streets without killing anyone. That didn’t mean he didn’t come close. His blood surged as he blew through a red light crossing over Church Street, nearly clipping the back of an open double-decker bus filled with tourists. Another burst of horns went off. Again, Gavin couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t see pedestrians jumping onto curbs to get out of the way of his speeding Ferrari FF because his vision went blood red.
Blood. Fucking. Red.
With one hand gripping the wheel, he used the other to yank the tie from around his neck. As he pulled into the garage below Dillon’s building, he shrugged out of his suit jacket, paid the parking fee, and shot into a parking spot. After swinging open the door and slamming it closed, Gavin made his way to the elevator and hit the button to Dillon’s floor.
Gavin was no longer fighting a fucked up battle in his head. He rolled his sleeves up and sank deep into an eerie sea of calm. He was feeding his body what it craved, what it needed, and because of this, he felt high. Drugged. As he rode up to the fifteenth floor, specks and shadows of Emily’s face curled through his thoughts. His heart sank as he glanced at his watch. The
thought of her sitting at the café waiting for him, completely unaware of what he was about to do, bothered him. However, he couldn’t stop.
Gavin broke from the elevator when the doors opened, stepping out into a shitload of commotion. It was something he was used to seeing. Wearing cheap suits from eBay and ties their grandmothers had bought them for their twenty-first birthdays, young, money-hungry cubs paced the bullpen in front of their cubicles. With Bluetooth receivers in their ears and polished wealth on the other end of the line, they talked fast, attempting to rip a piece of meat from a portfolio holding more cash than they’d make over the course of a lifetime. They jutted their chins up in greeting and Gavin knew a couple of them recognized him when he breezed through the chaos. He simply nodded back. None of them would end their calls from the potential stack of money they were trying for. Considering he’d only shared a beer or two with them through the years when Dillon invited him out, Gavin really didn’t give a shit if they ended their conversations to stop and say hello or not. His focus was on the door in the left corner of the massive office. Behind it was the piece of meat Gavin was about to tear into. No longer calm, the closer he got, Gavin felt his unfed hunger splitting his stomach in two.
“Hey, Gavin,” a familiar female voice purred.
He dragged his attention from the door holding his lunch beyond it, but his feet never stopped moving. “Hey, Kimberly. Is he in his office?”
The busty blonde nodded. “He sure is.”
“Good,” he clipped, rounding the corner of her desk.
As he approached Dillon’s door, Gavin ducked his towering six foot three inch frame in an attempt to see below mini-blinds covering up half the glass. Gavin’s eyes landed on Dillon’s back. He stood in front of his desk, his arms crossed. In one swift motion, Gavin swung open the door and closed it. In another, he twisted the lock, sealing them off from anyone who might try to enter.
Let the motherfucking games begin.
Without turning, Dillon blew out an annoyed puff of air. “Kimberly, how many times over the last few months have I told you I’m not fucking you in here anymore? Go back to your desk, and I’ll call you later if I feel like it.”
“It’s not Kimberly, asshole,” Gavin growled. His eyes zeroed in on Dillon when he turned around. “I told you I’d kill you with my bare hands if you ever touched her again.”
Narrowing his eyes, Dillon opened his mouth, but before words could tumble out, Gavin charged him, tackling him onto the desk. Though mammoth, the solid piece of cherry wood screeched a few inches from the weight of the two men landing on it. With Dillon pinned beneath him, Gavin curled his hands around his neck, barely noticing the blow from Dillon’s fist slamming against his mouth. Blood from his split lip dropped onto Dillon’s cheek, sliding down to his chin. As Gavin stared into the soulless eyes of a man he’d considered a friend at one point, flashes of Emily receiving his brutal treatment made adrenaline spike through Gavin’s veins. His anger simmered, and Gavin had no intention of stopping it from erupting.
Hands wrapped around Dillon’s throat, Gavin lifted up his head and shoved it back down against the desk. It hit the surface with a hard thud. Gavin was sure he’d cracked Dillon’s skull open. “You pussy!” Gavin spewed, his body shaking. “I told you I’d fucking kill you if you hurt her!”
“Fuck you and her!” Dillon choked out, squirming under Gavin’s weight.
Gavin squeezed harder, his grip tightening to the point he could feel Dillon’s pulse hammering against his thumbs. At this, Dillon brought his arms up and circled his fists around Gavin’s forearms in a lame attempt to pull Gavin’s hands from his neck. It didn’t work, and it only pissed Gavin off more. Gavin slammed his head against the desk again. After the second, possible skull-cracking blow, Gavin heard Dillon inhale sharply as he fought to breathe. Gavin also heard his own blood rushing through his ears. Dillon released his hold on one of Gavin’s arms and swung again, but this time there was no speed in it. It was easy enough for Gavin to dodge. Gavin could feel him weakening beneath him. Felt him slipping away as he stared into Gavin’s eyes. Gavin watched Dillon’s capillaries pop to the surface, turning his face a light shade of blue.
And then it hit him.
“Gavin Blake, you’re more of a man than any man I’ve ever known. You have a heart you wear on your sleeve, and you couldn’t do a thing to make me fall more in love with you. Not a single thing.”
Now, Gavin found himself fighting a completely different battle brought on by Emily’s words. Something inside him twisted, a debate on whether or not to stop. The sick bastard below him might own his emotions in this very moment, but the woman he was willing to kill for would own his heart forever. Choosing love over evil, Gavin pulled in a steeling breath, released his hold from Dillon’s neck, and stumbled away from the desk.
Fisting his hands in his hair, Gavin paced and watched Dillon’s close to lifeless body slither to the floor, dragging stacks of paper, pens, and a telephone with it. Choking, Dillon rolled to his side and clawed to his hands and knees, his chest heaving up and down for air. A barrage of chills overtook Gavin’s system as he witnessed Dillon trying to stand. It was no use. He couldn’t. Gavin had stripped him of any and all energy he had. Gavin tore his attention from Dillon and latched onto the deep voices and banging coming from behind the door. Gavin didn’t know if they’d just started or if they were trying to get in the whole time. As Dillon’s life was slipping through his hands, time seemed to slip by, blurring from one second into the next. Swallowing hard, Gavin stalked over to Dillon and grabbed him by his hair.
Kneeling beside him, Gavin yanked Dillon’s face within inches of his. He shook as he spoke, his breath a vicious whisper. “You better listen to every fucking word I’m about to say to you.”
“Fuck off, asshole,” Dillon grit out, staring into Gavin’s eyes, his breathing still labored. “You’re going to jail for this, motherfucker.”
Gavin quickly elbowed Dillon’s mouth. Trying to jerk away, Dillon winced. Now Gavin wasn’t the only one with a split lip. Gavin gripped Dillon’s hair tighter, a sick smirk twisting his mouth. “If you report this, sure, I might go to prison. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking kill you. But just know this”—Gavin paused, trying to tamp down his sudden urge to once again choke Dillon within inches of his life—”I’ll get out one day. Oh, you bet your ass I fucking will. And when I do… nothing will stop me from killing you. Not even the insane love I have for the woman you threw away will keep me from making sure you never take another fucking breath. So, consider this bit of information before you go running to the cops. If you know me at all, then you’ll know this isn’t an empty threat from a pussy who likes to knock women around. This is coming from a man. A man who’ll laugh all the way to the gas chamber as your mother cries all the way to your fucking grave. Do you understand me?”
Breathing hard, Dillon stared at Gavin and remained quiet. Simple resolution to the unanswered question. Another elbow to Dillon’s mouth.
“Do you fucking understand me?” Gavin snarled, his face curled in anger.
“Yes!” Dillon replied through clenched, bloodied teeth.
“Good,” Gavin replied mildly, standing. He started for the door, but before unlocking it, he turned, his eyes narrowed. “And if I find out you showed up to her job again, I’ll make sure it’s a closed casket funeral.”
With that, Gavin unlocked the door and pushed through the crowd. Without looking back, he heard the clamor of commotion taking place in Dillon’s office. Strike that. He heard Dillon yelling at everyone to get out of his office. The edge of embarrassment in Dillon’s tone carried through the air as Gavin stepped into the elevator.
On his way down, Gavin checked his watch. With less than five minutes to make it across town, he whipped his cell from his pocket and shot Emily a text to let her know he was going to be late. By the time he made it to his car, she’d replied.
Emily: I’ll be here waiting for you. Please be careful. No spee
ding! I love you.
Gavin pulled out of the garage. As he crawled through traffic, he couldn’t help but flick his gaze down to his cell. He reread Emily’s text over and over. Emotions flying high, Gavin was aware he had to walk into the café holding some semblance of normalcy. He just wasn’t sure he’d be able to. Thirty minutes later, he was about to be put to the test.
After finding a parking spot, Gavin stepped from his car, slid his hands through his hair, and made his way in. He hadn’t taken but three steps into the café when he spotted Emily. His breath faltered as it always did when he saw her sitting at a table and reading a book. It was then Gavin knew he was bound to her. He knew there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t give up for her. Hell, as long as he was inhaling the air around her, every day would feel complete. Today, he knew he would give up his freedom for her. His life. She was in his bloodstream, and he didn’t care if he spent the next twenty years behind bars, shackled in chains for what he’d done to Dillon. Gavin only hoped he could remove the shackles around her heart Dillon left behind, because no amount of kicking Dillon’s ass could rid her of the scars she had from him. Gavin knew he’d always wipe away her tears, but he desperately wanted to be able to wipe away her painful past.
As if she had sensed him, Emily lifted her head, a beautiful smile crossing her face when her eyes met his. Clichéd or not, her smile lit up the room like a ball of fire in a darkened sky. Clichés were created for her. End of story. Again, Gavin felt as though the breath had been sucked right out of his lungs. He watched as her smile fell away, her face becoming troubled as she stood. Damn it. Gavin shot a glance down at his clothing. Stuck in his head on the way over, he’d forgotten to fix himself. He knew he looked like a disheveled mess. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, and his shirt was untucked. Forget about his missing tie or the tiny specks of blood dotting the front of his crisp white button-down.
As Gavin moved toward her, raw power flowing from his body, Emily swallowed back the sick feeling seeping into her stomach. Meeting him in the middle of the crowded café, inches apart from one another, the voices surrounding her faded and figures blurred. His face blinded her to everything else. His breath was all she could hear. Though he wore a mask of cool passivity, his blue eyes said more than they should. They spoke volumes, inspiring an ache within Emily’s heart. She knew what he’d done. She didn’t need to ask.