He pressed his friend. “If someone other than Vincente or Maksim gave you my private number, I’d like to know.”
“If it was someone other than one of yours, you’d already know.”
“Good enough. So, what’s up, Lucian? I don’t have a lot of time. I’m in the middle—”
“Yes. I’ve been hearing some of what you’re in the middle of,” the Romanian cut in, “which is why I’m taking the time out of my very busy schedule to make this courtesy call.”
“My apologies,” he offered, meaning it. “What are people saying?”
“Stefano is making plans. Unpleasant ones that include the new woman in your life.” Gabriel heard a glass clink in the background. “I wanted to let you know I’m good for anything you need. Personally, I think this bullshit between the two of you has gone on long enough and it’s time it was settled. Know I’m watching the situation closely and I’ll be in touch.”
Click.
Gabriel blinked. What. The. Hell?
“Lucian Fane is calling you? Doesn’t even matter what he wanted—you just impressed me, you bastard,” Quan said as he got out of the SUV.
Gabriel followed him into the building. He and Lucian had always been friendly. More than just bouncing information back and forth over dinners, tipping each other off when hearing something the other would be interested in. Lucian’s younger brother was TarMor’s executive VP. Markus Fane, legit from day one, had come to Gabriel and Alek fresh from Yale and asked for a chance to prove himself. That had been almost a decade ago, when TarMor had first been created by him and Alek when Gabriel had still been in deep with his family but had needed more. Markus had had a hand in making the project management firm what it was today—successful enough to afford them a private jet to take them to their many job sites in Chicago, LA, New York, and Houston, where they did most of their business. Gabriel supposed he could admit that since he’d had nothing better to do in the last five years than work, TarMor’s growth could be attributed to his drive and rather impressive business acumen, which allowed him and Alek a modicum of respectability, where the IRS was concerned anyway.
He and Quan descended the stairs to the right of the entrance down into the dusty, shadow-filled basement and made their way across the cavernous room. Alek was sitting on a metal chair across from Stefano’s guy, who was shackled to another metal chair by a pair of cuffs, looking much the worse for wear.
Alek got to his feet, the scrape of the steel legs echoing all around them. “Name is Terrence Skars. Stefano sent him, but only to deliver a message. He wasn’t supposed to touch his target.”
Gabriel was getting sick of hearing about that goddamn message. He was curious to know exactly what it was, but he wouldn’t bother asking. Wouldn’t set himself up for the “fuck you” that would make him lose his temper.
A belligerent look settled on the prisoner’s swollen face. “Yeah. Like you haven’t tapped that.”
Gabriel stiffened at the taunt. Seemed the guy wanted to die.
The routine was the same as it had always been. Hadn’t changed in more than ten years. Secure and hold until Maksim called in with the requested info. If the guy was clean—theft, man-on-man assault—he was sent off with a warning he’d never forget. But if their unfortunate captive had done time for harming a child or raping or beating a defenseless woman, Gabriel and his boys became judge, jury, and executioner. No way would any of them send such sorry excuses for humanity back to the streets. Harsh? Yes. But he was sure the families of those wives, daughters, and young sons appreciated their methods for meting out justice.
Even criminals had a moral code.
“Maksim call?” he bit out.
“Ten minutes ago. Quan was right—our guest has a penchant for the young ones. Intel confirmed he was released last week from serving time for molesting his sister’s five-year-old twin daughters. It also listed a half-dozen others. Let’s just say he isn’t partial only to little girls.”
Sympathy for the victims was added into the mix of emotions rolling through Gabriel. He’d seen a lot of shit and had done his fair share, but he’d never condone targeting kids. Back in his crime family days before he’d gone straight, his alter ego, or whatever you wanted to call who he’d been back then, would have slammed down and taken over, cutting off any weakness that might have made him anything less than lethal. At the time, he’d needed the underboss persona to deal with the lowest of the low. Now he was a little calmer, took his time. Thought through what had to be done. What this POS had tried to do to Eva was bad enough, but the revolting shit he’d already done to those innocent little girls?
“How did you know him?” he asked Quan.
“Whenever Vincente meets one of Stefano’s new recruits, he sends a photo and bio home so Maksim can dig around. Allows us to know who we’re dealing with.”
Damn, he loved his boys.
Gabriel opened his jacket and withdrew his Glock from the holster strapped across his chest. With Stefano’s involvement confirmed, there was no way in hell he was sending a fucking pedophile back on the streets.
He walked over to stand before the pervert, who suddenly looked as though he was having a hard time breathing and whose eyes were wide with fear. Gabriel slid the safety off and raised his gun at a sideways angle. He pulled back, let the prick sweat for an extra second as he went into his pocket, and then attached the suppressor he’d withdrawn.
What would Eva think if she could see him now? he couldn’t help but wonder as he leveled his arm again and pulled the trigger.
Twice.
CHAPTER 6
After tossing and turning most of the night, Eva wasn’t surprised to feel blurry-eyed and lethargic as she waited for the Keurig to do its thing. She grabbed her morning brew from the machine and plopped into the chair at the head of her kitchen table, stirring cream into the dark liquid before blowing across the top. As she took her first sip, she watched the pretty pattern the sun made on the newly washed floor tile. Her gaze skipped over the spotless countertop and pristine appliances. The dry dishcloth on the side of the sink was folded with precision edges, hoping to be used at some point in the day. A day she could only hope was normal and free of drama.
What. The hell. Was going on in her life? Going from your typical male attention—catcalls and the odd obscene offer tossed out of the cab of a truck as she’d stood waiting to cross Broadway—to being accosted in Caleb’s apartment by Stefano Moretti, being physically attacked by the reprobate last night, and then swerving over to find something so incredible in Gabriel Moore that she’d dreamed of him all night long. When she’d slept at all. What did the sudden appearance of these unsettling men mean? And, yes, even though Gabriel’s blend of unsettling was delicious, it was still an oddity in her once-normal life.
The way he’d made her feel, the way he’d looked at her with those intense green eyes crowded back into her mind. She groaned. Had she really made out like a teenager with a man she’d only just met?
Yes. Yes, she had. And she couldn’t lie to herself and say she hadn’t enjoyed the hell out of it.
Feeling restless, she stood with her coffee and wandered down to her mother’s office, her bare feet tapping softly on the hardwood. She looked around the pretty room, gaze skimming the Julie Fain prints depicting silhouetted fairies under gleaming moonbeams. She wouldn’t be able to wander like this, finding comfort in the familiar, if she ended up in some apartment in New York. She tried not to let that get to her. Deep down she knew her mother wouldn’t have cared about bricks and mortar. She would have told her their love for each other and their memories were in Eva’s heart, not scattered throughout these empty, silent rooms.
She walked to the desk and put her coffee down on the edge, heart growing heavy as Christina Aguilera’s “Hurt” came on her iPod in the kitchen—the emotionally devastating song Eva tried never to listen to anymore. Her throat thickened, the clog of unshed tears worsening when she looked do
wn and saw a note scribbled in her mom’s flourish handwriting on the desktop calendar.
Pick up Eva’s grad present
One minute planning her trip to New York to see her daughter graduate, the next . . .
Gone.
Even though movies and TV shows constantly used the premise for drama, it was true. In the blink of an eye, life could end. Everything could change. And one really had very little control over it. What was it she’d seen scrawled next to the window on the subway a few weeks ago? It had actually made her chest ache.
Could’ve. Should’ve. Would’ve.
Didn’t. Didn’t. Didn’t.
Live life to the fullest. Grab each experience with both hands, they said. She didn’t. She was careful. Stood back and watched. She was wary. To live too hard. To love . . . at all.
Her mother had loved, and look what it had gotten her.
Eva squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the burned-out shell of their car and the police investigating the accident, because it just hadn’t made sense for her mom to have crashed into a tree on an empty stretch of road. Somewhere that she’d had no business being, on a clear, dry afternoon.
“Give it a rest, Eva,” she said tiredly. She grabbed her coffee and left the office. “That’s more than enough.”
Her step faltered as she went down the hallway and entered the living room on the right, Gabriel’s deep voice echoing through her mind. He’d used those same words last night when he’d ended their kiss. And when he’d kissed her that second time at her front door . . .
God. She’d thought her knees were going to give out when his warm lips had landed on her throat.
She wanted to see him again.
She glanced out the front window and waved at Nick, surprised to see her shy neighbor on his knees weeding the stretch between his yard and hers. She hadn’t taken him for a green thumb.
Did Gabriel want to see her again?
She finished her coffee and placed her cup on the glass-covered coffee table. He hadn’t asked for her number. But he knew her name and where she lived. Finding her phone number probably wouldn’t be difficult for someone like him. She doubted he found anything very difficult. He seemed more the type to plow through to the end result, which was to get what he wanted. The physical power of him alone . . . God . . . but then add that authoritative, dominant air . . .
The ringing of her cell came from the kitchen, and she hurried down the short hallway, cutting off Lifehouse’s “You and Me” as she took her phone off the dock. She belatedly tried not to let her hopes fly as she swiped her thumb across the screen and slowly brought it to her ear. Private number.
“Hello?” she answered carefully.
“Ms. Jacobs?”
“This is she.” She tried not to let her chin hit the countertop as she deflated. It was a female voice.
“It’s Natalie Simms. From TarMor, New York.”
Eva’s spine shot straight. “Oh! Hello, Natalie. How are you?”
“Very well, thanks. I apologize for bothering you on a Sunday, but you had to know as soon as possible that you’ve been chosen for the associate business manager position you interviewed for.”
“Oh, my God.”
Natalie chuckled at her completely unprofessional response. “Mr. Tarasov will remain at our offices in Seattle for this final week and would like you there tomorrow morning at nine. You’re still open to moving back to New York, I hope?”
“Yes, yes, of course. That’s no problem at all.” She cringed at the lie. Being in New York meant being away from Gabriel. Unless he spent more time in New York than Seattle. But if he ran a hotel here, that seemed unlikely.
“Perfect. Do you have a pen and paper handy?”
She grabbed the pen next to the toaster and waited with her hand poised over the notepad on the fridge. “Go ahead.”
Natalie rattled off the address to the office building and gave her the suite number where her new boss would be waiting for her tomorrow morning. She’d spend several hours with him before her HR orientation.
“I suppose that’s all for now. I’ll see you soon, Eva.”
“Thank you so much, Natalie. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your success.”
Eva ended the call with a smile that felt satisfied. And so it began. No more hypothetical situations. No more what-ifs, and what-would-you-do-in-a-case-like-this’s. She was actually going to be working alongside the CEO of a hugely successful company, learning the complex ins and outs as she aided him with day-to-day operations. She felt more excited than she’d expected. Not the same as if landing an executive position right away, but it was a start.
She dialed Nika’s number. Had to share.
“’lo.”
Another thing she found beyond irksome about Kevin—he always answered Nika’s cell as if it were his own.
“Hey, Kevin.” The friendly note she’d been going for missed by a huge mark. “Is Nika around?”
“Hey, Eva. You haven’t come by since you got home. You too good for us now that you got your fancy degree?”
He made it sound as though they’d gotten along before. Not that they knew each other well to begin with since she’d been in New York for the entirety of his and Nika’s relationship. He’d never hidden the fact that he didn’t like her the few times they’d run into each other, either when she’d been visiting for holidays or when he’d been a hanger-on around the Obsidian Devils’ clubhouse when Caleb had been in the Seattle chapter. Caleb had never liked him, which was all Eva needed as a referral. And the fact that Kevin had appeared high more than once had been off-putting, to say the least. Why those things hadn’t affected Nika’s opinion of her husband, Eva didn’t know. Anytime she’d asked, Nika got upset and put her off until finally Eva had just stopped asking.
“I’ve actually only been home a day or so, Kevin, no time to stop by. Is Nika there?”
“Of course she’s here. Where else would she be?”
She frowned at the continued silence. “May I speak with her, please?”
“Very good,” came the condescending murmur. “Hey! It’s for you.”
Anger burned in her throat. When was Nika going to admit she’d made a horrible mistake and cut her losses?
There was a shifting and a crackle and then a quiet, “Hi.”
“Hi. How’re things?”
“Dandy.”
Eva knew that voice. It meant things were far from dandy.
Maybe now wasn’t the time to share her good news.
“Are you guys busy tonight? I thought maybe we could go out for a bit. Maybe coffee? Or a drink?”
“A drink would be great,” Nika said in a lowered voice. “Just you and me.”
That was unexpected. She’d thought a definite “I can’t” was coming.
“Of course. Maybe O’Sullivan’s?” The pub was low-key and quiet enough that they could catch up. It might be just the thing.
“Um, you want to go somewhere a little livelier?” Nika gave her the name of a new nightclub that had just opened up, and her heart sank.
Nightclubs were not her thing. Not by a long shot. She found them too crowded, and the men were usually arrogant—for no good reason—overpaid jerks looking for nothing more than an easy lay. She’d gone clubbing with Nika a few times in the past and spent more time slapping unwelcome hands off her ass than enjoying anything the sweaty, chaotic atmosphere had had to offer.
Uh, what were you just thinking about living life?
“I don’t know . . .” she started anyway. Maybe she was more introverted than she’d originally thought, because she would have been happy staying cooped up in her house with a bag of chips and two cans of soda, sharing the craziness of her life with her best friend.
“Please, Eva? It will be fun. I need to get out of here for a while.”
“Okay. Where is it?” she said immediatel
y. That was the first time Nika had voluntarily indicated something was wrong at home, so Eva certainly wasn’t going to hesitate just because she felt uncomfortable going somewhere noisy. Nika needed her, and she was going to be there for her. Usually she told Eva and Caleb to keep their noses out. Nicely, but still, the mind-your-own-business vibe came across loud and clear. If she was now admitting to needing to get away, maybe she would spill the reason why after she had a drink or two in her.
And honestly, she needed Nika. She missed their time together, and the overwhelming loneliness she’d been feeling lately was causing her to do stupid things.
Point in hand, sucking face with a stranger at a fund-raiser where any one of her mother’s friends could have seen her.
She heard Nika’s sigh of relief through the phone. “Great. You can even wear that dress I gave you last year. You know, the one you said you’d never wear because you had nowhere to wear it. This is the perfect place.”
Eva remembered the short backless thing Nika had presented her with on her twenty-third birthday, saying, “Even you can’t make this look conservative.”
After last night’s debacle, the last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself. And that dress would advertise her body like . . . like . . . like she was trying to draw attention to herself by advertising her body. Ugh. But if it would make her friend happy, she’d wear it. She took small comfort in the fact that if the last time they’d gone dancing was any indication, she’d fit in more than she stood out.
“I’ll wear it. But just you wait until you see your next present from me,” she warned. Nika’s quiet laugh had her smiling. “I’ll pick you—”
“No!” The word was said quietly, humor gone. “I’ll, um, sorry, I’ll, uh, take my own car. I’ll meet you there at ten.”
“Okay.”
“See you there.”
Eva hung up and chewed on her bottom lip. She vowed tonight was the night she would find out what was going on in Nika’s life.
After sliding her phone onto the counter, she left the kitchen. It was still early. If she began now, she might be able to make it so the dress she’d promised to wear would look like more than a large, silky dinner napkin.
A Love of Vengeance Page 8