by Logan Fox
We’re weaving our way through the dividing line sandwiched between properties. Not all of the houses have fences, but most of them do have trees and shrubs for privacy.
Gabriel obviously knows this area very well. He’s pulling all the moves—throwing trash cans between us, rousing dogs who must have been distant offspring of Cujo.
All I can do is try and keep him in sight. Lucky for me, he’s leaving behind a path of devastation. Broken branches, rustling shrubs, gates thrown open.
I chase him over a road, and then down a cement embankment.
And then I lose him.
I’m panting, bloody hands on my bloody knees as I scan left and right. The embankment led down to a storm drain, but there’s no fucking way I’m going into that black hole.
I’m not an idiot.
I know he’s waiting in there for me.
Shit!
I could go over the top. But if he’s watching then he’ll know what I’m trying to do. So should I stay, or should I—
Something slams into the back of my head.
I land on hands and knees, fire scraping over my palms as I skid over the cement floor.
Before I can scramble up, a foot hits me square in the stomach.
God! Again? Fuck!
I kick out, manage to catch Gabriel’s shin. Not that it fucking helps—I could have been kicking a tree stump.
He takes a step back, and then surges forward again. Grabs the back of my neck. Hauls me to my feet.
I catch the crook of his arm when he goes to punch me, and that he wasn’t expecting. But he recovers so fast, I don’t even have time for some kind of counter strike.
He rips his arm free and shoves me like we’re a pair of bullies marking turf in the schoolyard.
I slam into the side of the storm drain’s massive mouth, banging my head.
There go the last of my fond childhood memories.
And that’s when Gabriel whips out his gun. Which is round about the same time I put my hands up.
Oh God, the blood. I squeeze my eyes closed and try my best to remain fixed to the earth.
“Okay! I yield!”
And he laughs. The fucker actually laughs. There’s a click from the gun, which I assume is him taking off the safety.
I’m supposed to know about these things, but I was so high when Zach took us for practice shooting. I can’t remember a damn thing.
Instead of yielding, like I asked him so damn nicely, Gabriel grabs my shirt and rams me into the concrete wall again. Then he drags me around the corner. It’s an overcast day, so there’s no sharp line in the limbo between shadow and light. Just a dark haze.
All the better to rape you in, my dear.
Jesus, fuck, no.
I tilt forward to try and push him out of the way. The icy nozzle of a gun burrows into my forehead, urging my head back and back and back until it presses against the uneven wall behind me.
Christ.
I lift my hands, close my eyes. “Just make it quick, okay? And if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer it if you rape me after I’m dead.”
There’s another click, and that confuses the fuck out of me, because I know some guns have a hammer, but this one doesn’t.
I open one eye, then the other.
Gabriel’s lowering the gun.
But the moment I open my mouth to thank him, it’s up again.
“Stay where you are,” he says.
He wasn’t going to kill me? Fuck me? Why? I mean, I’m grateful obviously, but confused. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to antagonize him into shooting me. What good would that do anyone?
“Sure, yeah. I’ll stay right here.”
My hands are still up, and it’s taking quite a lot of my concentration to ignore the smell of copper in the air. I should be fine, long as I don’t dwell. Long as I don’t look at my hands.
Gabriel trains the gun on me as he steps back.
Follow him.
Aw, fuck, Rube. I wanna, but he’s going to kill me if I try.
Follow him.
“Hey, uh…”
Gabriel pauses. The hand around the gun tightens.
“I just want to know one thing.”
He frowns at me. “Quiet.”
I curl the fingers of one hand until just my index is up. “Just one. Please? Humor me? It’s the least you can do.”
Gabriel shakes his head like he’s wondering which of the two of us have lost our minds.
Probably both.
“What?” he snaps, taking another step back.
“Why’d you do it?”
He stops. “Do what?”
“The basement. The kids. Us.” I point at myself with my finger. “I mean…that wasn’t cool, man. Seriously. Are you a psychopath? Because you’re lacking all sorts of empathy.”
Gabriel’s lips lift into a snarl, and it looks like he’s reconsidering letting me live. But fuck it. I mean…
“That’s why you’re following me?” Gabriel moves the gun a little closer as if he’s pointing with it. “Talk to Trinity. I told her everything.”
“Like how you chose us? Did you tell her that? Because I’ve always wondered about that. I mean, compared to Cass and Rube, even Zach, I’m not much of a looker.”
Gabriel shakes his head as if he’s got something in his ear. “I don’t know why she chose you.”
“She? She who?” Was it Zachary’s mom? I never met the woman, but—
“Monica chose. She…she drew less attention than Keith. No one thought twice about her sitting in the park, reading a book.”
Wait…Monica? As in Trinity’s mom? But there’s a look in Gabriel’s eyes as if he’s waiting to see my reaction. Playing me.
“Yeah, okay. Blame it on a dead girl.” I nod a few times. “Clever. No one can prove you wrong.”
Another snarl. “You want proof?” He steps closer and jams the gun against my chest.
If I’d been paying closer attention at that shooting range, I might have remembered how to take a gun off someone. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s something they cover.
But I didn’t.
So I can’t.
I don’t dare try. Because his finger is curled around the trigger, and I have a feeling the smallest jolt will send a bullet straight into my heart. Ain’t no coming back from that, not unless you’re the Son of God. And I’m pretty sure he’s come and gone.
“Yeah, proof would be nice,” I tell him, barely moving my lips in case he sees it as a threat. “But only if it’s no trouble. Don’t want you going out of your way to prove your innocence or anything.”
He narrows his eyes at me. His lips move. “Apollo.”
“You got me.” It’s hard to be cheery when there’s a gun digging a hole in your pec, but I fucking try.
“You worked in the laundry at Saint Amos.” His voice is soft now, his eyes unfocused.
“It was the kitchen, actually. But you knew that already.”
“Why would I?”
And it’s fucking weird, in that second, I believe him. But I’m probably biased because my cause of death is so close I can lick it.
“Everything you’re looking for is on Keith’s hard drive.”
If I had ears like a dog, they’d be pricking up right now. “Yeah? Where’s that? Gomorrah? Sodom?” I can’t help it. I kid around when I’m nervous.
The way Gabriel’s jaw ticks, he’s not amused.
“In the study. In the safe. Same combination.”
“What, the study door and the safe?”
He makes an angry sound and steps back, shaking his head. “I don’t care how he made it look. I didn’t do it. None of it.” Another step. He’s brighter now, lit up by the faint gray light of the overcast sky.
But before he turns to leave, I say, “And what about that file on your hard drive? The archive you hid in the system files? Same combination?” I know it isn’t. My password cracking program already went through the numeral-only phase.
&
nbsp; “Archive?” He turns back to me. “It’s one file.”
My heart legit skips a fucking beat. “Same combination though, right?” I ask. “That also going to prove you’re innocent?”
“It’s password protected.” He looks at the ground. “If you can open it, show it to Trinity.” When he looks up, his eyes have a dark shadow over them that has nothing to do with the rain that’s on the way. “Then maybe she’ll change her mind about me. About them. About everything.”
Un-fucking-likely.
“So what’s the password?”
Gabriel’s face turns to stone. “I don’t know, child. I’ve spent years trying to figure it out.” Then he shrugs and starts walking away. He glances back at me. “Promise me you’ll show her.”
Anyone with a shred of sense in their heads will tell you to never make a deal with the devil. But they’ve never faced a devil like Gabriel.
I guess he’s had years to practice his poker face, because fuck knows I can’t tell if he’s bluffing.
And it’s kind of a stupid request. I mean, why wouldn’t I show Trinity? She’s as much involved in this as any one of us.
“Promise me.” He’s stopped walking. Somewhere along the line, he put the gun back in his pocket.
I drag my fingers through my hair before I remember about the blood, but luckily it’s dried already. It’s still gross though, still makes me light-headed even thinking about it.
Gabriel’s face collapses. “Please.”
“Yeah, fuck. Whatever.”
He grimaces, perhaps for my language, perhaps for my vagueness, but it’s as good as he’s going to get. And I guess he realizes that, because he turns and walks away.
Follow him.
But instead I slide my back down the concrete wall and sit on my ass, trying to process why the fuck I let Gabriel get away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Trinity
“…but I can’t blame you. I’m pissed off at me.”
Consciousness ebbs and flows, bringing with it a familiar voice. Who’s Apollo talking to? He seems agitated.
“You weren’t there. You didn’t see the look on his face. How he spoke about you.”
“Who?” I try to say, but nothing comes out. My lips don’t even move. I feel like I’m caught on the edge of sleep. My brain is certainly foggy enough. And all I want to do is slip away again.
Apollo drops his voice, makes it raspy. “Promise me you’ll show her.”
My fingers twitch. My lips move. “Apollo.”
But he’s so caught up in what he’s discussing with the other person in the room, he doesn’t notice.
“If I can just figure out that password. But what the hell is it? He said the combination was the same for the study and the safe, right? But the study didn’t have a lock. The basement had a lock…but we’d have to get back inside the house to check it out. And now that it’s a crime scene, the fuck that’s going to happen, right?”
Lord, maybe I should go back to sleep. I can’t understand a word he’s saying.
But then someone’s holding my hand. “Trin, listen. I know you’re in there somewhere. Can you wake the fuck up and explain this to me, please? Maybe you can decode the Gabriel Chronicles, and that would be swell, because Cass and Reuben are pretty pissed off with me. I need a win.”
Mmm. Sleep. That does sound good.
“Come on, Trin.”
How can I say no?
I force my eyelids open. They’re heavy, fluttering like a downed butterfly. Too-bright light spears into my head. “Ow.” I choke out hoarsely, squeezing my eyes shut again.
“Hey! You’re back!” Another squeeze to my hand. “Fuck yeah.” Something brushes my cheek. “Okay, so let me fill you in, right? I was chasing after Gabriel, and—”
“Apollo, enough.” A shiver chases through me when I recognize that deliciously low and rumbly voice.
Reuben.
I force my eyes open to slits and move my head to try and find him.
He’s standing opposite Apollo, on the other side of my hospital bed. As I catch sight of him, he wraps his hand around mine. So warm and tight.
“Welcome back,” he says quietly. “I hope you had pleasant dreams.”
“Course she did,” another voice says, the speaker out of sight. “Because she was dreaming about us. Weren’t you, darlin’?”
I have to tip my head forward to see Cass. He’s lounging in a chair pushed to one wall, but he stands and comes closer when we lock eyes.
“What happened?”
The last thing I remember is taking Gabriel to the bell tower. How he found the photo. And then…him shoving me against the wall. I hit it hard—is that why I’m here? I shiver violently, and Apollo immediately tugs the thin hospital blanket at my feet all the way up to my chin.
“Body warmth will work better,” Cass says, giving me a lopsided grin.
“Cut it out,” Rube demands, throwing him a faint scowl. Then his eyes are back on me. “How are you feeling?”
“Heavy.”
“Anesthesia,” Apollo says. “It’ll wear off.”
Rube squeezes my hand. “They said you can come home tomorrow.”
“Home?” My mind flashes back to that tiny, cramped room at Saint Amos. To the Brotherhood’s lair where Zach shoved a knife between my legs and told me he’d fuck me with it if I showed my face again. I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t want to go back there.”
“Not your house,” Apollo says through a chuckle, making no sense. “Our house!”
“He means our hotel room,” Rube says dryly, but looking at Apollo, not me.
“It’s where we live,” he says, shrugging. “What else am I supposed to call it?”
“It’s not home. Not even close.” Cass runs his fingers over the top of my foot. “But it’ll be a far sight better with you in it, that’s for sure.”
Anywhere’s better than that horrible school. I smile at Cass. At Rube. At Apollo. I get another peck on my cheek from Apollo, and Rube starts massaging my hand. I lift my left hand, and stare at the mass of bandages over it. When Rube catches my puzzled look, he shakes his head and gives me a faint smile. “Dislocated thumb. But it’ll heal just fine.”
When did that happen?
He ducks down, presses his lips to my forehead. Whispers, “You’ll heal just fine, Trinity.”
I let out a happy sigh, but that beautiful moment only lasts a second. I wriggle a little to sit up taller, and crane to look around the room.
Someone’s missing. Did Zach stay away on purpose? He’s made it clear he hates me, so I wouldn’t be surprised. But that hasn’t stopped him hanging around with me before. Honestly, I’d have thought he’d have enjoyed being here, especially if there was a chance to see me in pain. That’s what he gets off on, right? Pain?
But now that I’m looking, I notice an edge to the brothers. A grimness to their smiles. Shadows under their eyes. It’s not the kind of concern you get from someone who bumped their head against a wall.
What aren’t they telling me?
“Where’s Zach?”
When their eyes drop in unison, so does my stomach. Right to the fucking floor.
It makes no sense. He hates me, and I’m terrified of him. But the thought that something’s happened to him, it scares me more than that knife up my skirt ever could.
Because I know he’d hurt me…but never more than I could take.
Knowing that, I shouldn’t have run off that morning and gone to Gabriel, but I’d thought Zachary would change. I thought being with him, with all of them, would make things different. Like I was sprinkling magic pixie dust on them.
I’m worse than a hopeless romantic. I’m a fucking fool.
No one’s going to change just like that. And these men? Probably never. The damage done to them is too deep. It may have scarred over, but those scars are permanent.
Instead of trying to change them, I should accept them for who they are.
But something t
ells me my epiphany came too late.
“Where is he?”
“Let’s not…” Apollo trails off.
Cass steps back, waving a hand. “You know what, we can chat about that later. You need to rest.”
I turn wide eyes to Reuben, who’s looking from Apollo to Cass with a blank expression. “Reuben? Reuben!”
He looks down at me. Strokes my eyebrow with his thumb. “It’s too early to tell,” he murmurs.
“What is? What do you mean?”
“You don’t remember?” Apollo asks.
I stare at him, my voice rising to a shout. “Remember what? Tell me what’s going on!” The last I direct to Cass.
He’s watching me through his lashes. And then he blinks, like he’s snapping out of a spell. “He took two gunshots to the chest. One barely missed his heart. The other…didn’t.”
Someone shot Zachary? My body goes ice-cold. “Oh my God.”
Reuben squeezes my hand. “It’s too early to tell if he’ll pull through, Trinity, but the doctors are doing everything they—”
I pull out of his grip, grab the edge of the sheet, and do my best to get out of the hospital bed. “Is someone going to help me?” I demand through gritted teeth.
Apollo rushes around the bed, but Rube puts out a hand to stop him. I scowl up at Reuben with as much ferocity as I can muster, but before I can open my mouth to cuss him out, he bends and scoops me up off the hospital bed.
Now I’m floating through the air like an aerial dancer. Cass comes over, grabbing the IV stand and wheeling it after us as Rube heads out my hospital room behind Apollo.
I’ve never been in a hospital before, but I have a feeling I’m in one of the private wards because I was the only one inside the room and there’s tasteful artwork on the walls we pass.
We go down an elevator, and when we exit, there’s suddenly too much excitement and activity. I burrow back against Reuben, and as if they sense my sudden panic, Cass and Apollo walk in front of us like a shield.
I hear voices murmuring up ahead when we stop. And then Cass says, “Does it look like I give a fuck about visiting hours?”