by Karen Renee
“She said she didn’t want you here, Gabe. I know you don’t believe that, but I won’t have her irritated because you’re here. Surely, you can understand that? She’s walking around, and should go home in another day.”
“I need to speak to her, sir. She doesn’t know—”
“She doesn’t need to know anything right now except how to get better.”
I trudged into the room. “What don’t I need to know, Dad?”
When Dad turned around, I was stunned at how much older he appeared. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Oh, honey. You do not know how relieved I am to see you up and walking. My God, if that bullet would’ve strayed—”
“It didn’t, Dad,” I whispered.
“Thank God, it didn’t, honey.”
He led me to the bed. I sat down, and I noticed he aimed a pointed look at Gabe.
“Cassie, Gabe and I are both glad you’re doing better. You keep getting better, you hear?” Brock said to me. He looked at his brother. “Let’s go, Gabe.”
“Cassie?” he asked, his voice sounding shredded.
I shook my head. “Gabe, please. Go.”
Wimp that I was, I turned away so I didn’t have to watch him leave.
Dad squeezed my hand. “They’re gone, honey.”
I turned and settled myself back into bed. With a few deep breaths, I didn’t cry in front of Dad.
A police officer dropped by while my dad was there, and I answered as many of his questions as I could. When Dad heard that Asher had started working at Club Eclectic, he said he’d be having words with Ryan.
“No, Dad. I never told Ryan about Asher or the restraining order. I suppose I should have, but it didn’t cross my mind that he might try to work at the same place as me. So, it really isn’t Ryan’s fault.”
My father’s lips pressed into a thin line. I knew he had more to say on the subject but wouldn’t speak in front of the officer.
Once the officer left, I asked, “Where’s mother?”
“She’s at the house getting your room ready for you. Climbing stairs at your apartment is going to be cumbersome for a couple weeks at best.”
I closed my eyes and sighed because I hadn’t thought about that. No doubt it was the truth though seeing as just walking up and down the hallway took it out of me.
“Thank her for me if I don’t get the chance to do it first, okay?”
He grabbed my hand. “Honey, she loves you. I know she doesn’t show it very well, but she does love you.”
I nodded.
“Now, why don’t you want Gabe here? The reports I’ve been given by the officers on the scene and the nurses here, he’s been nothing but adamant to be at your side. His brother had to hold him back from Asher when he saw you wounded.”
My eyes slid to the side. “That’s surprising.”
“Talk to me honey. I know you’re not going to share with your mother, so tell your old man about it.”
I sighed. “I heard him. When I had come to, after Asher stunned me, tazed me, whatever he did to knock me out. I heard Gabe in the breezeway. He went by my place, dropped off my brush –the very reason I was at Gabe’s when Asher found me– and he said that was done, now they could go get pizza. Like that last act of finality was that. He didn’t care that he hurt me the day before.”
“How did he hurt you the day before?”
I shrugged a shoulder.
“Cassandra Ivy.”
I looked at him. “He... I walked into Ryan’s office and overheard him and Gabe talking about Gabe investing two hundred thousand in the club.”
“You did?”
I nodded. “Problem was, my dismay was written all over my face and Gabe knew that. He came to my office to ask what the problem was, and I told him it wasn’t a good idea to invest in the club.”
“Why’s that?”
I looked into Dad’s hazel eyes. “I didn’t tell you this yet because I didn’t have enough proof, but my gut tells me Ryan’s laundering money.”
He nodded like he knew that.
“You knew?” I asked.
His head tilted for a moment. “Not exactly. I hired Otero-Silva Investigations to look into it officially, but I couldn’t tell you because, like you said, you do wear your reactions on your face. Clint suspects something similar, but he hasn’t gotten a lead on the money just yet.”
I let the silence stretch between us, but Dad gave me a look.
“Tell me about your issues with Gabe.”
I sighed, which caused a twinge of pain in my ribs. “Well, Gabe accused me of trying to control him. Said I didn’t know what I was talking about, and why was it okay for you to invest in the club but not him. I told him he needed to talk to you because Ryan had said he owed you two hundred grand to get you out as silent investor. I knew you wouldn’t—”
“That’s actually correct, sweetie.”
My eyes widened. “You’re kidding,” I breathed.
With his lips pressed together, Dad shook his head.
I sunk into the bed feeling like an imbecile. “Guess I really didn’t know what I was talking about,” I mumbled.
Dad squeezed my hand. “No, honey. If you suspect Ryan of money-laundering, you were protecting Gabe.”
I dipped my chin and gave Dad my biggest eyes. “You think.”
He chuckled. “Why didn’t you tell him what you suspected?”
I arched a brow. “Gabe’s temper... actually, all the Sullivan men are known for their fierce tempers. If I’d told him then, he’d have stormed into Ryan’s office and demanded answers. Hell, he’d probably have dragged Ryan across the desk.”
Dad asked me for more details on my suspicions and I gave it to him as well as I could. He called Otero-Silva to let them know where to look in terms of the money trail.
When he ended the call, he kissed my forehead. “You look wiped, sweetie. Get some rest. Seeing as they plan to discharge you tomorrow, you’re gonna need it.”
31
Make It Matter
Gabe
MY TEMPER HAD TO BE controlled, but that wasn’t going to happen today.
Thanks to Clint being the point person with Mr. Daughtry on his investigation into Ryan Pruitt, he had told Clint that Cassandra was being discharged today and would be staying with him and his wife in Altamonte Springs.
I hated finding that out, but at the same time, I got it. There were no elevators in our complex, and climbing stairs after surgery could tear Cassie’s stitches.
Making matters worse, she wouldn’t respond to any form of communication from me. I had left voicemails, texts, emails, Snapchats, and even a Facebook direct message. Nada. Meanwhile, Cecilia had spoken to her, and when I lunged to get her phone from her, Brock intercepted me.
I left the room at that point and slammed the door so hard our downstairs neighbor banged on their ceiling in response.
Yeah, I needed to get my temper in check. Hell, if I hadn’t lost it with her that Monday night, we probably wouldn’t be on the outs at all. I slumped onto my bed and drove my hands into my hair trying to think.
Then I whipped my phone out and called Dad.
“Gabe, how’s Cassandra?”
“Home with her parents, but not speaking to me.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, son.”
“How many flowers do I send her?”
He coughed out a chuckle. “Say again?”
“You heard me. How many flowers do I send? Or what kind of bouquet? You’re the king of romance, Dad. Tell me what to do.”
He sighed. “Somehow I have the feeling no amount of roses and chocolates will make this better, Gabe.”
“Chocolate! Yes. She does love—”
“Gabriel. The focus should be on ‘no amount’ will make this better. Neither you nor your brother have told me exactly what the dust-up was between you and Cassandra. At least with Cecilia, I knew what caused the implosion.”
I fought off a sigh. “Well, I’m sending her something. I jus
t hoped you, Mr. Romantic, could guide me in the right direction.”
Dad laughed. “I’m far from being Mr. Romantic, son. However, do you know her favorite flower? Don’t just send her red roses, that’s predictable. Whatever you decide to do, it isn’t a matter of ‘Go big or go home’. The idea is ‘Make it matter or don’t bother’.”
My lips pulled together as I tried to figure out Cassie’s favorite flower, and I realized she had never told me that. Worse, I had never asked her that. But the last part of Dad’s advice hit me. I had to make it matter or why bother. And I damn sure knew what mattered to her.
“Thanks, Dad. That helps way more than you know. Love you, but I got some things to do.”
He blew out a breath. “Glad I could help, and I’m sure you do. Good luck, my boy.”
All last night and this morning, “Lay Me Down” by the Dirty Heads had been running through my head because I had sung it while holding vigil next to Cassie’s hospital bed. She was my green-eyed girl, and I had to prove to her she still needed to be runnin’ around with me like we always had been.
I barged into the living room to find Brock and Cecilia standing in the foyer making out. Normally that would force an about-face, but I was a man on a mission.
“Who’s leaving? You or Cecilia?” I demanded.
Brock broke the lip-lock aiming pure venom at me from his eyes.
“He is,” Cecilia almost purred.
I shook my head in small shakes. “Great. You visiting Cassie today? Or tomorrow? I know you’ve been in touch.”
“Gabe,” Brock started.
I put my hands up in front of my chest. “No. I’m not gonna try to see her. But, my girl isn’t big on flowers and shit like that. She is big on music, and I need someone to help me out. No, I need someone to help a brother out. So, legit, Cecilia, you’re soon to be my sister-in-law—”
“Listen, numbnuts—”
I powered past Brock’s refusal. “Not soon-soon, but you know. You two are so damn serious it’s disgusting. So, help your soon-to-be-brother out, huh?”
Cecilia giggled. “Gee, Gabe. You make it so hard to say no, don’t you?”
I grinned. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
She arched a brow. “But, just to let you know, I’m not going to see her until late tomorrow.”
My grin morphed into a smile. “Out-damn-standing.”
IT WAS AS I WAS WORKING on my mix that I realized how appropriate the song by the Rolling Stones was. She’d sure been showing me the same dull pain. She wasn’t graceless, but no way she would slip away from me now. Not for something as fickle as money. Did she not know how much I loved her?
I purposefully misquoted that song to her in bed, but that was before I had heard the version from the “Stripped” album. It always struck me funny how an acoustic version of a song could breathe brand new life into a song, and that was certainly the case for “Wild Horses.” That stabbed at my heart because I never should’ve given her such a hard time about loving them.
I pushed past that emotion and lined up “Rapper’s Delight,” because there was never a time that song wouldn’t kill it. Then as a nod to my woman, I found “The Message” from Grandmaster Flash. It might make her cringe, but I didn’t care. As Dad said, it had to matter or why bother.
As I listened to the line-up, I realized this was very Say Anything, and nearly equivalent to me holding a boombox over my head, eighty’s style, but I didn’t care. Music was our thing, and I knew when I saw that pain flash across her face at the mention of Blue Rondo. In fact, that was the one song I wouldn’t throw her way for this. If anything, the only way she’d get that song from me was if I had my trumpet. Thanks to Jessica, that was long gone, but... that was for the best.
I had entered Grand into the search bar of my iTunes program, but it pulled up far more songs than just those by Grandmaster Flash. For some reason, Chris Botti featuring Sting showed up with the song “What Are You Doing for the Rest of Your Life?” And it hit me like a bolt of lightning.
I’d told her it would be great if she was pregnant, and I’d marry her. But, after a gunshot wound, there would be no way she was pregnant, if she ever even was. Yet, with our shared musical debates, history, and tastes, what better way to propose than with music.
And God knew, I wanted all of my life to include her. I just had to prove it.
Cassie
CECILIA LEFT ME WITH a humongous bag from Gabe, but she insisted I take the CD case from her directly.
“I’m not getting in the middle of this, but he’s miserable. And determined you have this CD, if nothing else in the bag. So, I’ve put it in your hands direct, and my job is done.”
If my eyes could set something on fire, that bag would’ve been ashes already. However, the CD in my hands felt like a hot potato. He knew how to get to me, which was why I wouldn’t listen to that disc.
Cecilia watched as I put the case on an end table. “You’re not going to listen to it, are you?”
I arched a brow. “I know enough about him to know whatever’s on that CD isn’t what I need to hear right now.”
She nodded. “You need anything though? Do you want to talk about it?”
My lips quirked to the side. “I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry, by the way. I never should’ve left you alone in the apartment.”
I stared into her pretty blue eyes. “Cecilia, do not put that on yourself.”
Her brows raised. “How can I not? How long did it take you to find that brush?”
“I didn’t actually.”
Her eyebrows lowered dramatically. “You didn’t?”
I shook my head. “I looked in the drawers, under the cabinet, and then Asher was there.”
Her head tilted with wonder, so I kept going. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now. Gabe dropped it off while Asher was tying me up. Couldn’t miss his chipper announcement that it was done and they could go get pizza.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe I never thought about how easily he got rid of women in the past. Should’ve known he’d do me the same way.”
Her lips pressed together for a moment before she said, “Honey, you’ve got that wrong. Really wrong.”
I shook my head. “Doubtful.”
She sighed. “Brock told me he said that, and he wanted to rip Gabe’s head off, but Clint waited until they were at his vehicle to ask Gabe what he was on about.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Cecilia.”
“He noticed the cameras were back,” she insisted.
“What? Clint noticed, but he would—”
“Gabe, honey. He noticed, and he thought Asher could see them leaving your place. Yes, he dropped off the brush, but that’s because when he got to his place and the drawers were open, he didn’t know what was going on. They took the brush to your place, left thinking you were out somewhere, and he said that to throw Asher off, in case he was watching. Gabe had no idea you were being tied up right then.”
I felt my heart pounding as her words sunk in because it reminded me my father said Gabe was there after I was shot. The three sets of feet entering the room briefly flashed into my mind, and I realized he must have been there before I blacked out.
And I had insisted he leave my bedside.
I looked at Cecilia. “I’ve been a huge douche.”
She chuckled. “No, you haven’t. What he said to you at the club was wrong. And God knows he’s got to get that temper under control. Brock shared some things about Gabe, and those guys need to get it together. Big time.”
I nodded, and she turned her head a little so she was giving me a mild side-eye. “You know, since you and Gabe know each other so well, my guess is that even if what he said wasn’t that bad, knowing each other for so long made it worse.”
My head tilted as I thought about it. “I suppose, but he doesn’t trust me. Doesn’t help that he’s so damn stubborn about not relying on a woman. It’s clear that extends beyond the financial.”
“I think you should tell him that, Cassie.”
Deep down, I knew she was right, so I nodded. “Maybe I’ll call him later, but I don’t want to do this over the phone and I don’t want him coming here. Thanks to surgery, I can’t go up or down the stairs.”
She grinned. “He’d carry you, no doubt about that.”
I rolled my eyes. “That won’t help when I need to get back downstairs.”
“Why not?”
“It’s done, Cecilia. We have to go back to being just friends.”
A sad look crossed her face. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, ignoring the pain in my heart.
She whipped out her cell and texted furiously.
After a moment her face tilted to me. “Okay, you’ve been stuck here for quite a bit. You told me enough about your relationship with your mom, that I know you don’t want to sit around here all day. I’m going to meet Brock for a bit at his office. It’s ground floor.”
I sighed. “What’s your point, Cecilia?”
She grinned sheepishly. “Brock told me Gabe had to drop by the offices for some reason, and if we leave soon, we can meet him there.”
I closed my eyes. “Cecilia.”
“Cassandra.” She mimicked my defeated tone.
I shook my head. “I don’t think this a good idea, for the record, but fine. I’ll go with you. Let me get some shoes.”
32
Can’t Go Home
Gabe
“SO,” I DRAWLED AS I heard the door open, but I held Clint’s gaze. “Her sister’s her half-sister, Ryan knew this in order to blackmail Felicia, but she one-upped him by knowing he was laundering the pay-off money, with the added bonus that she could set up her husband along the way.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, right? But I heard an outraged gasp and my head turned to see Cassie in the doorway.