by Coralee June
"What happened to you two?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer. They both were teetering on the edge of telling me. One breath could push them over.
"Nothing," Gavriel answered, ending the conversation. "Get out," he said to Blaise, his voice hard.
"Guess I'll be going then, too," I replied. I stood and pulled Blaise up with me. I felt the anxiety rolling off of him, and I ached to soothe his pain. I mourned the loss of their friendship and of the boys I once knew. How could I possibly think that without me, everything would continue as it was? I wanted to leave and come back to find them the same force of nature they once were, but instead, they were broken. Shattered.
"You could try to leave, but I'd advise against it." Gavriel walked over towards a small bar in the corner of the room. It was still morning, but it didn't stop him from pouring his glass full of amber liquid and downing it.
"Can’t you at least talk to me?" I pleaded. "You hired Blaise to find me. How’d he know where to look?" I looked around the expansive, cold house. Gavriel was mid pour of his second glass when he stopped and turned around.
"Callum gave me a tip four months ago that you might be in Baltimore. I had some people look into it. We had a general area of where you might be, but it still took a while to find you. I put a bounty on your head. I can't leave as often as I'd like. Business keeps me busy," he replied. "I knew if Bennett had anything to do with it, he'd bring you in."
"Gav?" I asked. My voice sounded unsure and tentative. I wanted to bite my tongue until it bled. Gavriel didn't like weakness. We bonded when I showed my strength. He turned around and stared me down with an intimidating glare. I was willing to lose his stare down if it meant he would show me a glimpse of the friend I once knew. "Why am I here? Why now?"
Gavriel let out a dark chuckle and sauntered towards me. "Why’re you here?" he asked before rearing back and throwing the crystal whiskey glass at a nearby wall. The shattering crash made me flinch, but I didn't dare let out a scream. Shards scattered along the floor, and tiny specks of destruction hit my calves and feet. He took two strides until we were nose to nose. "You're here because I fucking want you here," he answered as if it were the only explanation I needed.
He then wrapped his hands around my throat, but he didn't squeeze. For a second, he hovered along the threshold of choking me, and then he kissed me. He kissed me so deeply that I forgot whose air I was breathing. His touch was suffocating. His touch was something I was willing to suffer for.
Gavriel Moretti tasted like warm whiskey and pain.
He pulled back, and when I gasped for air, he smiled, pleased with my reaction. "And why now?" he asked. "The only reason you're here now is because I couldn't find you sooner. If I had my way, you would have never fucking left."
My mouth dropped open, and he forced his finger past my lips. My tongue instinctually danced along his skin. I closed my lips around it and sucked as he pulled out, moaning as arousal flooded me. A loud popping noise filled the room once he was free. Tight sounds in my throat echoed off the marble tile, and behind me, I heard a cough.
I turned to look at Blaise, but Gavriel grabbed my chin and forced me to look back at him. "Don't look at him. He disobeyed me. Others would have lost a hand for touching what's mine, but I have a more effective method of torture," he hissed.
Gav grabbed my shoulders and turned me away so that I was facing Blaise, whose expression was soft. When our eyes met, I saw pain and acceptance. Blaise and I were once bonded by our understanding of Gavriel's complex needs.
Gavriel liked to punish and push.
He stripped my leather jacket from my body and tossed it on the pile of glass. My skin felt like it was on fire as his hands roamed my chest. I couldn't bring myself to feel shock or shame. There was only need. This reunion was toxic and complex, but touching him was the only way I felt grounded. It was the only thing that reminded me I was still alive. I was still fighting.
His hand dipped beneath the denim of my jeans. He curled his fingers, exploring, seeking, and feeling. I couldn’t hold back my gasp, “Oh yes.” My breathy voice filled the room.
He tapped my clit, and I bucked backward. "Why did you run, Sunshine?" he asked.
Tears filled my eyes as my body and my mind fought for dominance. I was turned on. I was falling apart.
"Gav, don't do this," Blaise said while taking a step towards us. At his movement, Gavriel started moving his finger with more intensity. Determined to get me off, he finger fucked me relentlessly. I squirmed while letting out a throaty moan, and as I arched my back, he pushed his hard dick into the curve of my ass.
"Tell me," he ordered. "Tell me what was so terrifying that you ran away."
My tears were flowing freely now. I choked on their salty streaks as they flooded my eyes. I watched as Blaise's expression went hooded as I straddled bliss and torture.
I wanted Gavriel. I had imagined this moment numerous times. I’d craved his touch, imagined the feel of his lips on mine. I wanted him—badly. I just didn’t want to tell him my secrets.
"You thought you were scared then? That was nothing. I'm the fucking scariest thing in this goddamn world now," he growled as his fingers drove me up a dangerous cliff. He wasn't going to gradually guide me over the edge. Gavriel Moretti wanted to send me soaring towards the sharp rocks below with a kick to the gut.
"Don't make me say it," I begged. My breathing labored, I squirmed in his palm as more pleasure rocked through me. I was on the edge of spilling all my secrets in exchange for this sweet, sweet release.
"Tell me," he urged. Faster. Faster. Higher. I refused to let it come to this. I refused to let him splinter my trauma with his toxic pleasure.
I allowed my weight to go dead and dropped to the floor, away from his hold, just before I could orgasm. Sobs broke me. My cries echoed around the house, and I shook so hard my chest hurt. I pressed my cheek to the cool marble floor while holding my arms over my stomach. And while curled in the fetal position, I mourned the old me.
It wasn't Gavriel who comforted me. He had already turned his back and was going towards the bar once more. Blaise scrambled to pick me up. We walked in a haze towards one of the guest rooms as I cried. He wiped my tears, stripped my pants, and tucked me into bed. I poured out the words I couldn't say into the river of tears down my cheeks.
How could my body feel so sated, but my mind so tortured? I wanted more of Gavriel. If it weren’t for my secrets, I would have claimed every last drop of that moment. I hated that the man I was running from stole that from me.
I sat there wondering if my past would always be between us. I finally worked up the courage to ask, "What happened to him?"
Indecision marred Blaise's face. I sensed that he was trying to determine if the truth would cause me to tailspin more, or if a lie would be enough to placate me until I could handle the answer. When his expression went hard, I knew he decided not to lie to me, and I loved him a bit more for it.
His response was simple but certain: "You left."
Chapter Eleven
Present Day
* * *
“Wake up.” A stern voice filtered through my hazy dream, startling me. When I opened my eyes, I took a moment to adjust to the bright light of the bedroom. A warm arm was snug around my waist. The silhouette of a man blocked the light coming in from the large window on the far wall. Gavriel.
“Get dressed,” he said in a soft voice. It wasn’t the commanding tone he used when we first arrived. It sounded tender, almost. I opened my mouth to argue. My body was still reeling from the emotional turmoil of the last few days. My muscles ached, and my throat was sore from last night’s sobs.
As if he knew I was going to refuse, Gavriel added, “Please.” He turned and exited the bedroom before I could say no. I turned to look at Blaise’s peaceful form, deep in sleep, before shifting out of his hold. I could stay here and enjoy what comfort Blaise provided. But curiosity got the best of me.
It didn’t take me long to
get ready. I brushed my teeth and stared at my reflection. Tired eyes. Pale skin. The black ink in my tattoos was a stark contrast to my washed out complexion. I put my hair up in a lazy bun and got dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. When I exited the bedroom and made my way to the kitchen, two helmets were sitting on the kitchen table.
Gavriel was leaning against the granite countertops, his arms crossed over his chest. I didn’t say anything. We stared at one another for what felt like forever, neither of us speaking. I wanted to tell him that I was hurting, that I missed him. That I was sorry. That I hated the man he had become. That I wanted the man he had become.
He propelled forward and walked over to the table with a frown. He then picked up the black helmet before heading towards the front door. Once again, I debated whether to follow after him, but in the end, I chose to go. I was painfully predictable. Five years wasn’t enough time to change a heart. I’d always follow him.
I wasn’t surprised by the expensive Harley Davidson in his drive. It was a significant upgrade from the junkyard bike he had as a teen. The shiny chrome glistened in the morning sun, and his jeans stretched tightly over his legs as he mounted it. I let out a low sigh before shaking my hair out of its bun and forcing the helmet on. I felt an odd sense of deja vu as I swung my leg over the seat and settled behind him. The last time I rode a bike with Gavriel Moretti was a memory I’ll cling to until my dying day. I never imagined that I'd be lucky enough to know what it was like to ride with him again.
I wrapped my arms around his abs while stretching my fingers out, touching as much of him as possible. He roared the engine to life before driving down the long road leading to the gate.
It was magical. As he drove down the curves of the hills, we leaned into each turn. Each time he increased his speed, I gripped tighter. The sun continued to rise overhead, and he turned on a road that followed the dips and curves of the ocean. The air smelled of salt, and despite being November, the weather was pleasantly warm. It was paradise. It was heaven. I wrapped my arms around the memory of Gavriel and clung to it as he showed me the beautiful landscapes. We were two friends, reminiscing without saying a word.
It felt too good to hold on to Gavriel without fear of the consequences. For so long, I craved him. No matter how much I clung to him, I couldn't convince myself that he was real. Refusing to let my dark thoughts dwell on last night, I anchored myself in the present.
We kept riding along the road until he pulled up into a quiet part of the city. Boutiques and bakeries lined the streets, and women with little dogs walked along the sidewalk. When we parked, I felt everyone's eyes on us—or more accurately—on Gavriel. Once again, I found myself appreciating how handsome he had become. Now that he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, I saw more of the tattoos collected along the tan skin of his right arm. When we were younger, he already had impressive muscles, but his body grew into the bulk of them. He was striking.
He guided me inside a tiny cafe, resting his large hand on my lower back as we walked up to the counter. He remembered my favorite coffee, and I tried not to swoon when he ordered it.
"Black coffee, with a splash of hazelnut syrup and two sugars," he ordered with confidence. Did he still think of my favorite music? My favorite movies, food, and hobbies?
Every detail about Gavriel was still vivid in my mind.
I knew that he liked to eat breakfast for dinner. He could quote every line from the Godfather, and he was a bit of a control freak. He liked rap music but preferred the silence. His favorite color was the shade of my lips, he used to say. And his bucket list included “smoking a joint at the Grand Canyon” as well as owning a gym.
He grabbed a couple of muffins and a danish before going outside to sit on the patio. Again, neither of us said anything. We were stuck somewhere between a timeless comfort that was natural to us, and a fear of the unknown. I took a bite of the muffin, and he watched me lick melted chocolate from my lips.
I swallowed before asking, “What are we doing, Gav?”
Instead of answering, he looked across the street, and I followed his gaze. There, on the corner, was a polished gym. The tall, tinted windows revealed silhouettes of the people inside. It seemed to capture all Gavriel’s attention, and I wondered why.
"Ryker's in that gym," he said, and my heart immediately began to race at his declaration. I scanned my eyes along the windows, desperately looking for the boy I once knew.
"Ryker?" I asked, needing confirmation. Knowing I was so close to Ryker made it hard to breathe. I tried to swallow, but my throat felt swollen and cracked with emotion.
Gavriel took a sip of his hot coffee and placed the cup back on the table. He waited a moment longer before responding. "I own that gym," he said. The Bullet dynamic had changed so much over the last five years, and I was struggling to catch up with all the changes. Callum was friends with the Bullets? Blaise and Gavriel were barely getting along? When I left, Gavriel wanted to break Ryker's jaw—or kill him.
"I also own everything inside of it," Gavriel added. I didn't miss the meaning of his words. Gavriel owned Ryker.
"How is he?" I asked, no longer feeling hungry.
Gavriel brushed the crumbs from his hands and leaned back in his chair. It was like he knew that I was hanging onto each word coming out of his mouth. He wanted me begging for answers.
"Well," he began, "he misses you.”
I shut my eyes to force out the frustration. It seemed like Gavriel was stuck somewhere between wanting to hurt me and wanting to give me hope. Saying that Ryker missed me still was like a punch to the throat.
"Would it make you feel better if I said that I didn't want to leave? Damn, Gav, I missed you so much." The tears that filled my eyes surprised me. I touched my cheek to feel their wetness. "I was homeless. Alone. You think I wanted to leave you? You think I wanted this? Any of this?"
I tossed my napkin on the table and stood, preparing to stalk off and head anywhere but here, but Gavriel's cruel voice stopped me. "Sit."
I didn't respond, but I didn't leave either. What was it about Gavriel that controlled me so? I wanted to obey him. I wanted to relinquish all my inhibitions to a virtual stranger. Was I so fucked up by my past that I couldn't think clearly? I sat back down, but leaned as far back as possible, putting distance between us.
Even the coffee-scented air couldn't relax me. We people-watched in silence as my eyes remained glued to the gym doors across the street. Every time someone opened them, my breath hitched in anticipation.
“I moved to New York shortly after your disappearance,” Gavriel explained in a tight voice. “I met my half-sister for the first time. She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”
My brows shot up in surprise. Was Gavriel wanting to have a normal conversation? Catch up, like nothing was wrong, over coffee and pastries?
“Her name is Grace. Good kid, far too pretty.”
I smiled cautiously. “Grace is a pretty name.”
“Yeah, well her mother was a whore. I guess giving her daughter a good Christian name was her way of hoping she didn’t go down that path. I’m keeping an eye on her. She’s too naive, that one.”
“You’ve always been the protective one in our group,” I joked while trying to ease into the flow of conversation.
“It’s natural to want to protect fragile things,” Gavriel replied. His eyes cut to me once again. He didn’t think I was strong? He was fucking wrong.
I took another sip of coffee, and my eyes traveled towards the gym again. I wanted a glimpse of Ryker. “So the family business, huh? Seems like you’re successful,” I said.
“I do well enough. My father’s legacy was in shambles after he went to prison. It took some creative partnerships to get back to how we were. We started small with auto theft. It didn’t take long until I moved on to extortion and drugs. Sometimes I dabble in identity theft, but lately, I’m not seeing a return on my investment. It's hard finding a good hacker. My personal favorite is weapons trafficking, though. It bring
s in more money than the coke.”
I think Gavriel intended to shock me. And although I was out of my comfort zone, I wanted to prove that I could handle it. “What about the fights? Still do that? You used to love it,” I said with a grin.
Gavriel smiled a bit sardonically and said, "I let Ryker do the fighting. I'll let him get his teeth knocked out while I get rich off his winnings." He leaned forward, smiling, before continuing. “I don’t need organized fights to get out my violent tendencies anymore. I get plenty of opportunities without it.”
“Good,” I replied. Gavriel needed to bleed. Fighting and fucking were how he stayed sane. He was in the mindset of hurt or be hurt.
His eyes widened at my response. “I’m not disappointed or disillusioned about your life, Gavriel. I’ve always been...infatuated...with the darker sides of you.”
Instead of acting surprised at my bravery, Gavriel smiled and replied, “Indeed you have.”
“Except in the mornings. You were always nicer before you fully woke up. It’s why I always snuck into your room on the weekends,” I teased.
“It was like waking up to an angel,” he said in a soothing voice, so unlike the devil I met yesterday that I clutched my chest.
“I’m not an angel, Gav. Not anymore,” I replied.
We both sat there for a moment, people-watching in silent speculation. I remembered the boy I once knew. I thought about our time together while looking forward to the future. He always placed me so high up on a pedestal that he deemed himself unworthy. It finally felt like we were on an even playing field.
"Why are you and Blaise so distant?" I asked, feeling brave. Before I'd left, they were inseparable.
"There wasn't one thing," Gavriel answered. Nearby laughter from the next table diluted the intensity of his stare. "People grow up, Sunshine. They start to want different things, have different dreams."
"And what are your dreams, Gav?"