Falling for the Forbidden: 10 Full-Length Novels

by Jessica Hawkins

  “Why did you drop out of school?”

  Her body goes rigid. It takes her a moment to answer. “How did you find out?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “You’re right,” she whispers. “I don’t want to know.”

  “You’re going back.”

  She jerks her head up to look at me. “Don’t. I’ve dealt with it. I don’t want to go down that road again.”

  I fist my hand in her hair. “You’ll go back.”

  “Gabriel.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Please.”

  “Marie will come back. Things will go back to normal.” It’s a lie, but I can’t tell her how I’m planning on changing her circumstances.

  “Things will never be normal for me.”

  That’s true, but she better accept it. She’ll take whatever I choose to give her. My hand tightens in her hair. “You’ll call tomorrow and withdraw your cancellation.” “Why?” she whispers.

  Because despite everything, I still want her to be happy. “You’ll obey me, like you promised.”

  Hurt flickers in her eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

  “I’m the biggest damn threat of your life.”

  Her bottom lip starts to tremble. “Of course. How could I forget?”

  My hand is aching to tan her ass. If it weren’t for her injury, she’d be draped over my lap right now, her panties around her ankles.

  “Don’t push me, Valentina. You’ll do as I say without question, because I know what you need, and it’s my job to give it to you.”

  That same acceptance with which she submitted to my lashings and fucking filters into her expression. It’s not so much a choice as an understanding that there’s no choice.

  “Good girl.”

  I bend down to kiss her, tasting the sweetness of her submission as her lips quiver under mine. If I don’t pull away, I’ll take her right here in the lounge, and I still have plenty to say.

  “There’s something else you’re going to do for me.” I watch her face carefully as I choose my next words. “You’re going to tell me about the man who raped you.”

  Panic flares in her eyes. Her cheeks pale, and her lips part. For a moment, she only stares at me. From her reaction, it’s clear she’s never spoken to anyone about it, not in the healing sense, at least.

  “Who have you told?”

  She swallows. “It was a long time––”

  I pull gently on her hair. “That’s not what I asked. Who did you tell?”

  “My–my…no one.”

  “Let me rephrase that for you. Who knows or knew?”

  “My family.”

  “Who in your family?”

  “My mom, dad, and my brother.”

  “No one else?”

  She shakes her head.

  “They didn’t make you go to a doctor, the police, a therapist?”

  “My mom got me the morning-after pill.”

  I already know why. Her family would’ve tried to bury the shame. What I need are details so I can track the fucker down.

  “Start by telling me where you were when it happened.”

  A sob escapes her throat. “I don’t want to go back there.”

  I loosen my fingers in her hair and drag them down the long strands. “I’m here for you, baby. You’re not going through this alone.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  She tries to get up, but I push her down. If I could find out the truth without putting her through this, I would, but I’m at a dead end.

  “You don’t have to go into the details. Think of it as a movie. Look in from the outside. Go back to the scenes and tell me where you were.”

  “Gabriel, no.” She gets onto her knees and clutches my thighs. “Please, I beg you.”

  I almost falter. Valentina on her knees in front of me, begging, is more than what I can handle, but she needs to heal, or she’ll never be free. The man who stole her virginity will always own a piece of her as long as she keeps it bottled inside, and the fucker doesn’t deserve her peace of mind or pain. I press her face down in my lap, running my fingers through her hair.

  Steeling myself, I say in a stern voice, “Start at the beginning.”

  She rubs her cheek on my thigh. A big tear rolls from under her long lashes, the wetness penetrating the fabric of my pants. She licks her lips and opens and closes them twice before she gets a word out.

  “Mom sent me to take Dad’s dinner. He was working late.”

  “Where?”

  “At the workshop.”

  “Was it dark?”

  She thinks for a while. “It was still light. I think it was before six, because it was right after the afternoon sitcom.”

  “Good. Carry on.”

  She swallows again. “A car pulled up.”

  “What kind of car?”

  Her whole body goes rigid. “I don’t remember.”

  “Don’t feel, baby. Just tell me who drove the car.”

  “I–I don’t know. I only know they were old.”

  They? She said only one man raped her. “How many?”

  “Five. Six. I think six. I was scared. I didn’t want to look at them. I kept my eyes on the ground.”

  “Don’t feel.” I brush my thumb over the tears that spill down her cheek. “What did they say?”

  “I can’t remember. I don’t think they said much. One grabbed my arm. Daddy’s lunchbox fell on the ground. His sandwiches dropped out. I remember thinking how angry he was going to be if there was sand on them.”

  “Go on,” I say when she falls quiet, rubbing my hand up and down her back.

  “They laughed. They laughed a lot.”

  Anger boils up in me. I feel like breaking something.

  “They took me.”

  “Where?”

  She blinks. “I don’t know.”

  “Did they take you by car? Did they make you get inside?”

  “No. They dragged me into the building. A bar.”

  “Can you remember the name?”

  “I didn’t see.”

  If she walked, it was not far from where she lived. “Maybe you saw when you went past there later.”

  “I never walked that road again.”

  “What did the inside look like?”

  “It was dark. Smoke. It smelled of cigarette smoke. There was a counter and bar stools, and a neon sign above the mirror, I think. There was a room at the back with a pool table.”

  “Were there other people inside?”

  “A man behind the bar. I remember him because I screamed for help, but he turned away.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Fat. Bald. That–that’s all I remember.”

  “You’re doing well, sweetheart. Where did they take you?”

  She starts shaking, her frail body trembling between my knees. “The back.”

  “It’s a movie. It’s not happening to you. Can you see it?”

  “They ripped off my clothes and held me down.”

  Enough. I can’t stand it, but I can’t let it go, either. “What did he look like?”

  “I kept my eyes closed. I couldn’t look.”

  “Only the one?”

  “Yes,” she says meekly.

  I bite back my fury. “What happened after?”

  “They left me.”

  “How did you get home?”

  “I woke up in an alley. It was dark.”

  “You woke up?”

  “They beat me. I must’ve passed out.”

  God help me, I will tear their limbs from their bodies and make them swallow their dicks before I skin them alive.

  “I tried to walk, but I was hurting and bleeding. I didn’t get far. That’s where my brother found me. When I didn’t get home, my mom got worried. She called my father. They started looking.”

  “He took you home?”

  She nods, exhaling a shaky breath. “Mom treated my wounds. I stayed home until the bruises were gone. My father said he’d find the men respo
nsible.”

  “Did he?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t want to remember. I didn’t want to ask.”

  “Can you remember the date, Valentina?”

  “Thirteenth of February.”

  Two months later, her father died in the car crash, and her brother suffered brain damage. The mafia who was supposed to be their family rejected them, and here she is, on her knees in front of me. I hook my hands under her arms and lift her onto my lap, cradling her head against my chest.

  “They’re going to pay.”

  The tenseness eases somewhat from her small frame as she sits in my arms, allowing me to soothe her and keep her safe.

  I kiss the top of her head. “I won’t let anyone ever hurt you, again.”

  For the first time in my life, I have no desire to take cuddling further than holding a woman in my arms. There’s satisfaction greater than the high I get from sex in providing her with strength and protection. Even better is that she allows me take care of her, to be the man for her I couldn’t yet be for any woman.

  We sit together like this for a long time. My only desire is to carry her upstairs and lay her down on my bed, to hold her until the day breaks, but it’s close to eleven, and Carly will be home soon.

  My thought is scarcely cold when the front door bursts open, and Carly flies through it, sobs and tears following in her wake as she runs through the entrance and up the stairs. Valentina jerks in my arms. She scurries off my lap as fast as I’m trying to get to my feet with my useless leg. She looks at me with wide eyes, concern etched on her face.

  “She hasn’t seen us,” I say.

  I have to leave Valentina to go after my daughter. If that dickhead of a pretty college boy touched her, he’ll get what he deserves. On the landing, I hear her door slam. My hip aches as I rush to her bedroom.

  “Carly?” I call, knocking on the door.

  “Go away.”

  I try the knob. It’s locked. Her sobs reach me through the wood.

  “Open the door, Carly.”

  “I said go away!”

  “If you don’t open this door right now I’m going to break it down.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t give a damn.”

  “Carly!” I’m more worried than angry, but it’s the anger that sounds in my voice. “You have three seconds.”

  “Go to hell.”

  That’s it. I take a few steps back and get ready to charge. I’m about to throw my weight against the door when Valentina comes running up the stairs.

  “Gabriel!” She grabs my arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Stay out of this.”

  “You’ll scare her.”

  It’s the plea in her eyes that makes me pause. I don’t want to frighten Carly, but my fatherly instincts are in overdrive.

  I drag my hands though my hair. “Something’s wrong.”

  My concern is mirrored on Valentina’s face. Maybe it’s the subject we discussed just before Carly’s turbulent entry, but we’re thinking the same thing.

  Valentina walks to the door and taps gently on it. “Carly? Are you all right? Your dad’s really worried about you. Please come out and talk to him before he does something stupid.” A hiccup and a snort-laugh comes from inside.

  Laughing is good. Whatever happened can’t be that bad.

  “I don’t feel like cleaning up the mess he’s about to make,” Valentina continues, “not to mention facing your grandmother when he wakes her up with the noise.”

  The mention of Magda does it. Footsteps approach the door. The key turns. The door opens on a crack, and Carly’s tear-streaked face appears around the frame, black mascara smeared under her eyes and her hair a mess. I have to clench teeth, hands, and muscles not to shove the door open, and march into her room.

  Carly sniffs and looks between Valentina and me. “I don’t want to talk about it, Dad. Go to bed.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing.”

  I motion at her face. “This doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “You won’t understand!”

  It’s times like these that I hate Sylvia with an unfair fierceness for walking out on us. “I’ll try my best.”

  “No, thanks.” She adds sarcastically, “Can I go to sleep, now?”

  “Fine. I’ll have to drive over to Sebastian’s.” “Dad!” Fresh tears build in her eyes.

  I can’t stand to see her tears. Moving forward, I hold my arms open for a hug, but she takes a step back into the room and starts closing the door. Only when I stop in my tracks does she let go of the door.

  “Can I speak to you, Valentina?”

  Valentina shoots me a look. I motion for her to go ahead. I’m desperate. I’ll use any measures to get Carly to open up.

  “Sure.” Valentina clears her throat. “Do you want to talk in your room?”

  Carly takes her by the arm and drags her inside, the door shutting behind them.

  Why am I surrounded by females who are set on making my life difficult? I go to my study and activate the security system. For my family’s safety, every room in the house is equipped with hidden microphones. You never know. It’s less than honorable to eavesdrop on my daughter’s conversation with Valentina, but only a father will understand how I feel. I pour a whiskey and take a seat behind my desk.

  Carly’s voice comes over the speaker. “We had a fight.”

  “Oh, Carly. I’m sorry, honey. Fights happen, you know.”

  “Not these kinds of fights.”

  “Was he mean to you?”

  “Not exactly. Actually, he was quite polite. I just don’t understand. I don’t get guys.”

  “What did he do to upset you?”

  “He broke up with me.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you were going steady.”

  “He asked me on our first date.”

  “Then he breaks up a few weeks later?”

  “He met someone else. He cheated on me. He lied to me.”

  “That must hurt an awful lot.”

  “He says I’m too girlie for him. I’m so humiliated. I hate him.”

  “You shouldn’t look at it like that. Someone not liking you for who you are is nothing to be humiliated about.”

  “He’s a first-class jerk. He’s dating Tammy Marais.”

  “I don’t know Tammy, but I know you’re beautiful and clever. You’re also still very young. There’s lots of time for you to meet the right man.”

  “How do you know I’ll meet someone? What if there’s no one out there for me?”

  “There are plenty of good men out there.”

  “How can I make sure they’ll like me?”

  “By being yourself.”

  “Did you have a lot of boyfriends? Do you have one, now?”

  “I didn’t date.”

  “Why not? Don’t you like men?”

  “I was busy. I had my studies and a job.”

  “Are you sorry now that you’re old?”

  Valentina laughs softly. “I’m not that old.”

  “Are you? Sorry?”

  “Sometimes, but it’s no use crying over things we can’t change.”

  “I want him back, Valentina. Tell me what to do.”

  “You want my opinion? He doesn’t deserve to have you back.”

  “If you don’t have experience with men, how do I know I can trust your advice?”

  “You don’t have to trust me. Trust yourself. I’m sure you know you’re worth more than lies and deceit.”

  “You’re right. I’m worth more than Tammy Mousy Hair.”

  “And elegant young ladies aren’t nasty.”

  Carly giggles. “You’re no fun. I can’t gossip with you.”

  “See? You’re feeling better, already.”

  “I guess. Thanks for…uh…putting things in perspective.”

  “No worries. How about hot chocolate with marshmallows?”

  “My mom won’t approve.”

  “
Hot chocolate without marshmallows?”

  “I suppose, as long as it won’t make me gain weight.”

  “You’re a skinny thing. You don’t have to worry about one hot chocolate.”

  “Okay. Will you bring it to my room?”

  “Only if you go say goodnight to your dad. He’s worried because he loves you.”

  “I know. It’s just…I can’t talk to him about boyfriends. He’ll get upset.”

  “Tell him how you feel. If he understands, he’ll be more patient.”

  “Will you talk to him for me, like you did for going out with Sebastian?”

  “I think you can handle him all on your own.”

  “Thank you, Val.”

  “You’re welcome. Go see your dad. I’ll leave your chocolate on your nightstand.”

  I cut the security link and tip my hands together. Valentina was right all along. It wasn’t necessary to make a fuss about Carly going out with Sebastian. The problem took care of itself.

  Valentina was good with Carly tonight. I’d trust my only daughter with her any day.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Valentina

  After I opened up to Gabriel about my rape he became more possessive than ever, but he also lifted a weight off my shoulders. My parents’ advice was to pretend that day never took place, and until Gabriel, no one knew exactly what happened. My mom didn’t want to hear the details. She wanted to spare me the pain of reliving them. I would’ve confided in Charlie, but I didn’t have a chance. After my attack, my parents did everything in their power to please me. When I said I felt like chocolate cake, my father loaded Charlie and me in the car, and then the accident that changed our lives forever happened.

  Gabriel calls me to his study every night after dinner. I sit at his feet with my head on his thigh as he reads and comments on my assignments or watches the news while stroking my hair. Afterward, he takes me depending on how he interprets my needs and mood. Sometimes it’s tender and sometimes hard. I revel in whatever he gives me, needing his body with an intensity that doesn’t diminish, no matter how many times per night he makes me come.

  Things are looking up in my life. Since Carly reached out to me about her breakup with Sebastian, our relationship is friendlier. Aletta said if I hand in my assignments, she’ll hold onto my study cancellation, giving me a second chance at my dream. I can still be something other than a maid after nine years. With the bursary, I have more money to spend on Charlie and Kris. I can even afford to take them out to lunch on Sunday. I choose a restaurant in Rosebank, close to El Toro, a delicatessen shop where Marie used to buy Spanish chorizo. Magda told me to make paella on Monday, and she only eats this particular brand of sausage in the dish. Since El Toro doesn’t deliver, I profit from picking up my order while spoiling Kris and Charlie.