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“Your father’s a dick, baby,” Reese says. “But that hurts his legacy.”

  “He’s already lost his legacy,” Cat argues. “A trapped animal in a corner shows his teeth.”

  “You underestimate our teeth, sister,” Reid assures her. “And we don’t even have to be angry to show them.”

  Someone opens the door. “We need you, Reese.”

  “On my way,” Reese calls over his shoulder, before looking at me. “I need to speak to your mother.”

  “We’re flying her in from the Hamptons,” Gabe supplies.

  “Call Cat when she arrives,” Reese instructs. “She’ll communicate with me.”

  Gabe nods at Reese and Cat pats the table in front of me. “Be strong. This will all work out.” She’s sweet and kind, her support appreciated but I don’t miss the way her voice is now a different octave, defeat just below the surface. Her father’s involvement has changed this for her. She’s worried and I’m not sure what to make of just how worried.

  She and Reese stand, followed by Reid, and in a splatter of fast activity, Gabe and I are left to watch the door seal us inside the room alone, every mistake I’ve made since meeting Gabe tormenting me with its closure; the only kind of closure we have right now. Kenneth is the only one who has closure. The kind you don’t come back from.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Abbie…

  Hand in hand, Gabe and I follow the rest of the group, stepping out into the courtroom hallway where Cat is awaiting us. “Why don’t you go to our place? There’s no chance you’ll get sideswiped that way. All the reporters stalking Reese are here right now.” She looks at me. “Have your mother come to us, too. Then Reese can meet with her as soon as he’s free.”

  “I have a dog now,” Gabe says. “We need to get home.”

  “Bring him with you,” Cat offers. “We love furbabies. We babysat Reid and Carrie’s cat and dog while they were gone.”

  “What if my dog eats their cat?” Gabe challenges and despite all of this, I laugh.

  “He named him Dexter,” I explain, “and he did so because, despite all his friendliness, Gabe is certain that he’s a killer.”

  Cat gives her brother a dubious look. “I’m certain that comes from a deep-rooted distrust of pretty much the entire world. Bring Dexter for a playdate. It sounds fun, and I think the baby wants pizza so we’ll order pizza.” She places her hand on her belly, considers a moment and then confirms. “Yes. Pizza. Non-negotiable.”

  I laugh but it comes out choked, my emotions masked but not buried. “Thanks, Cat, for everything. You two—or—” I glance at her belly, “three, have been nothing but wonderful to me, and even my mother. I know it’s about protecting Gabe, but you’ve made me feel like an old friend.”

  “A new friend,” she says. “You’re one of us now and our clan protects our own, except for the father who would eat his own children.” She hugs me I suspect to hide the emotions radiating in those words. “You’re good for him,” she whispers next to my ear. “You just don’t know it yet.” She releases me, and as she hugs Gabe, I’m quaking inside.

  I’m good for him.

  I want to be, but she’s right. I really don’t know it right now. Cat hurries back to court while Reid joins us. “Party at Cat’s house. I heard.” He eyes Gabe. “We need a minute.”

  “Because you want to talk about me and you can’t when I’m with you?” I ask, because he couldn’t get more obvious.

  Reid’s eyes dance with unfettered amusement. “You have a mouth on you, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Gabe says. “She does.” He steps into me and cups my face. “Use it to get all of my secrets later when we’re alone.” My cheeks heat with the comment that Reid has to have heard, but Gabe is already kissing me. “Give me two minutes, baby.” He releases me and walks away with his brother, that endearment of “baby” doing funny things to my belly.

  I turn away from the two brothers, and stare down the long hallway, watching people hurry past, headed toward the courtrooms that hold destinies for both those who are on trial and those affected by the trial. I feel as if this is where I’m going to end up, with Reese defending me. I just have to make sure Gabe and my mother don’t end up here, too.

  “Ready, baby?” Gabe asks, sliding his arm around my shoulders and setting us in motion.

  “What was that, Gabe?”

  “Reid’s going to take Dexter out. I told him to leave him at home. It might be too much for him to come with us. And I don’t want to take any chances of us getting cornered before we can get a game plan going with your mother.”

  “You’re that worried?”

  “Yes. Dexter is a killer.”

  “Gabe,” I say. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “I like to do things on my terms,” he says. “And that means the police get us when we know why they want us. When we have details and a plan.”

  “Can’t Reid just call Jean Claude?”

  “They parted on bad terms.”

  “Can you call your father?”

  “He’s the enemy.” He turns us right down the hallway leading toward the side door. “We can’t trust a word he says.”

  I don’t have a father that I can call a father, not really, and he was really horrible to me and my mom, but to distrust him the way Gabe does his father—that’s got to hurt. That’s got to mess with you and I think of Cat’s comment about trust. Gabe doesn’t trust. I’m just thankful that I told him what I did. I wouldn’t want to hide anything from him. Not with this history that I have a feeling runs much deeper than his father. It’s about why he ensured he can’t have babies. It’s about that KM threat my ex threw out at him that he didn’t talk to Reese about. He’s going to have to talk to him. The thing is, will he talk to me? Will he trust me?

  Maybe.

  Eventually.

  Not now.

  We exit the courthouse with that thought on my mind, that certainty: no, he will not trust me. Not yet. I just have to understand that we’re new. He’s all in with me. I feel that, but emotional layers are created over years and years, over a lifetime. I can’t expect full exposure now. I haven’t even given him full exposure. I don’t have secrets, but as we settle into the backseat of the SUV, and he pulls me close, I think of some of the things I endured with my ex. These things aren’t easy to talk about. They aren’t things I even think about. I’m a robot in some ways where my ex is concerned. That was survival. But what, I wonder, made a vasectomy survival for Gabe?

  I lean into him, closer now and some part of me wants to hide in the shelter of his body. He’s going to ask questions. He’s going to push for more of my past, and if I really want him to share his, I’m going to have to share mine. Gabe must read my mind because he turns to me, cups my face, and strokes my cheek. “You were brave. You are brave. So fucking brave.”

  I don’t know if he means with Reese and his family, or with my ex. It doesn’t matter. I reject this description of me vehemently. “No. I’m not brave. I was not brave. I was a coward. You don’t—”

  He kisses me, a tender kiss, tongue stroking deep but slow, and when he pulls back he says, “I do. I know. More than you think I know.” He runs his thumb over my lips and then settles into his seat.

  I’m quaking inside again, but I’m warm in ways I didn’t think I could ever feel warm again. It seems that since my ex, I’ve lived with ice inside, with a chill that would never heat, a part of me always a wrong move away from shattering.

  Gabe knows more than I think he knows. He’s said that kind of thing to me before. I’m not sure what he means. I just know that I’m remarkably at peace with those words, as if he’s declared his soul knows my soul, his damage understands my damage. And maybe it does. Maybe he does. I just hope it’s enough to get us through it all.

  A few minutes later, we enter Cat and Reese’s apartment building, and I’m now hyperaware of all the doors I opened, all the questions I invited when I talked about my past with Kenneth. Now, Gabe will ask quest
ions and I decide on the elevator ride that I will give him answers without demanding he do the same for me. He’s not ready for that and, I have to take risks with this man. Lord knows he’s taken them with me by staying in this, by standing by me. I have to give trust to get trust, I decide, but the thing about trust is that it’s fragile in its infancy. Trust is about being vulnerable and when you’re vulnerable, you shatter easily. And what if you shatter into too many pieces? What if you can’t pull yourself back together? What if you let the person destroy you?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Abbie…

  The minute we’re inside his sister’s apartment I know the questions will follow. Anticipation, dread, worry—these things knot in my belly, have burned through me with every step down the hallway leading to the apartment door. Now, waiting for Gabe to deal with security and then eventually unlock the door, my stomach is in knots and it’s not like I’m not willing to share details with Gabe. This man has quickly found his way into my life where I want him to stay. He’s helped me. He’s involved himself in things that will cause him hell I don’t want him to live. He deserves whatever answers he wants from me. It’s just hard to talk about some of the things this conversation will expose.

  He shoves open the door and when I would enter, he grabs me and kisses me. “Easy, baby. You’re throwing off nerves and I don’t know why. It’s me. Just me. You know me now.”

  “Not as well as I want to know you, Gabe.”

  “And I want to know you, all of you, Abbie, but I get the idea that you think that’s going to change?”

  “I’m just—I’m feeling a little exposed, for a lack of a better word, right now.”

  He caresses my cheek. “Don’t. Whatever you think I see when I look at you, you must not see what I see. When I think of what you went through—”

  “You think weak and stupid?” I challenge, my heart lurching.

  “I see nothing but strong and brave when I look at you, Abbie. Go inside. Let’s talk. Let’s kiss. Let’s get past this.” He strokes my bottom lip, heat waving off of him, crashing into me. “We definitely need to go inside.” He turns me to face the door and smacks my backside playfully.

  I yelp at the unexpected palm, laughing the way only Gabe could make me laugh right now, stepping into the apartment foyer as I do. That’s when I laugh all over as I’m accosted by a Golden Retriever with a ball. Smiling broadly, I go down on my knee in front of the pup when a pretty brunette appears in the hall.

  “I see you’ve met Nikki,” she says. “Our kitty Kesha is hiding somewhere so don’t let her scare you if she pounces.” She smiles. “And I’m Carrie.”

  I pop to my feet. “Reid’s wife, right?”

  Gabe steps to my side and gives Nikki a pat. “Hi there, Nikki. Hey there, Carrie.” He calls out, “Hi Kesha!” He eyes Carrie. “Hiding again?”

  “Always,” Carrie assures him, giving me a friendly look Gabe latches onto.

  “This is Abbie,” he announces.

  “Nice to meet you, Abbie,” Carrie says, “And yes to your prior question, I’m Reid’s wife and that’s still so new that it’s crazy to say out loud.”

  So new they were literally just married and guilt stabs at me. “I hate you came back from your honeymoon early. I feel like it’s my fault.”

  She waves that off. “Nonsense. We were both eager and ready to get home.” She eyes Gabe. “Reid ran to your place to check on Dexter, but you know that. I can’t believe you have a dog.”

  “That I blame on Abbie. She and her mother run a shelter and one thing led to another.”

  “One thing led to a lot of things,” I say, looking at him. “Not all as good as Dexter.”

  “On that note,” Gabe says. “We all need a drink.”

  “I made coffee,” Carrie says. “Anyone want to join me?”

  “Coffee sounds almost as good as whiskey,” Gabe says. “Coffee with whiskey though, even better.”

  Carrie hurries down the hallway with Nikki on her heels and while Gabe and I remove our coats, Gabe leans in close to whisper, “Something tells me it’s going to be a while before I get to kiss you the way I want to kiss you.”

  The way I want him to kiss me, but I also want this nightmare to be over with and with him feeling none of the aftermath. Carrie is Reid’s wife. Reid is well-connected to the people who started all of this: the Maxwell father and Jean Claude. I want to know Carrie’s take on all of this.

  Gabe leads me down the hallway to join Carrie in a stunning large box-shaped kitchen with shiny tiles and stainless steel. Carrie settles at the island with a piping-hot cup of coffee, and the pooch at her feet.

  Gabe leads me to the pot and the ease at which he opens cabinets and provides coffee supplies for us both tells me that he’s comfortable in his sister’s home. I like this about him, the bond he shares with siblings, that’s enviable, even if it bares open the hole that is family in my life.

  “So,” Carrie says, as we join her, sitting across from her. “It sounds like things got interesting while we were traveling.” Her hand covers mine on the island. “How are you?”

  My chest pinches. These people, all of Gabe’s people, settle into that open hole, as if they belong there, as if we’re meant to be there.

  “Scared,” I admit. “I’m scared. I know I’m supposed to be sad, but I’m not, and I don’t know how I talk to the police and not seem guilty because of that fact.” I hear the lift to my voice, and I feel, oh how I feel, the hysteria that just this easily, with one little question, starts to bubble in my chest.

  Gabe’s hand comes down on my arm and I can’t explain how, but he tamps down that hysteria. He calms me. He makes me feel safe. I trust this man when I didn’t think I could trust again and it kills me to know that I’m going to end up burning him because I didn’t walk away while I still could have. Because I was with him when this happened.

  “I need some air,” I say, scooting off the seat too quickly and losing my balance, but I find my footing and head toward I don’t know what. I step into a hallway, aimlessly turning to my right.

  Thankfully this path leads to a living area framed by floor-to-ceiling windows, as well as a sliding door leading to a balcony. I head for that door and in a rush of movement, I’m outside, cold air rushing over me, but I don’t care. A motion detector trips lights and I hug myself, rushing to a railing with a city view that displays miles of city skyline, the city bursting with life. I imagine all the people down there, bustling about, rushing to and from, living life, the way I just want to get on with living life. I’ve tried. I’ve tried for years but Kenneth was never going to let that happen though. He’s proven that in life and death.

  The door opens behind me and I don’t need to turn to know who is with me. I can feel Gabe join me. His energy. His strength. The charge between us that is ever-present. I feel him. I have never felt any man like I do this one. I revel in that sensation. It gives me life. He makes me feel alive. And then he’s there, with me, stepping behind me, ever the gentleman, as he settles a blanket around my shoulders. “It’s cold out here, baby. There are some warm, private spots in the apartment.”

  “I like the cold.” I turn to him. “And the blanket. You’re always taking care of me.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asks, reading the million layers to my emotions, even when I don’t realize they’re there, between us, owning their own little place, even when I think they don’t.

  “I swore I’d take care of myself from now on.”

  He grabs the edges of the blanket and walks me to him. “But now you don’t have to take care of yourself. You have me. You don’t fully know that yet, but you will. You will know you have me.”

  “I know right now that I have you.”

  “Right now,” he repeats. “Meaning soon I’ll be gone.”

  “Kenneth will drive you away. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “No one, dead or alive, will drive me away,” he replies. “Try to relax. This will be over qu
ickly. I know how Jean Claude and my father work. All of this is too close to them. They’ll make it go away.”

  “By pinning it on us?”

  “We’re a complicated layer of shit on their show. We aren’t how this ends for them.”

  He’s confident. I see that in his face. I see more there, too. “What do you know that I don’t know?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gabe…

  What doesn’t she know?

  Much.

  There is much she doesn’t know and she won’t know. Ever.

  That question hangs in the cold night air that shifts with a gust of wind. Abbie shivers and I let go of the blanket that I’ve wrapped around her. “I’ll turn on the fireplace.” I don’t wait for her reply. I walk to the wall by the sliding door and flip on the outdoor fireplace I should’ve turned on when I exited in the first place.

  Abbie follows me, steps to me again in front of the fireplace. “What don’t I know Gabe?” Her eyes narrow on me. “Oh God. Tell me you didn’t—”

  “I didn’t what, Abbie?”

  “Hire the assassin. You didn’t, right?”

  That question punches me in the chest. "I answered that question for Reese."

  “Answer it for me. Just me. Did you have Kenneth killed?”

  Did I have her ex-husband killed?

  And there it is. A question I created by making her prior question of “what don’t I know” become more complicated than it had to be, by making it about everything, not one thing. Not one fucking thing, as it was intended.

  “No. I didn’t hire a hitman to kill your ex-husband and can I say, just using the word ‘husband’ where you’re concerned pisses me the fuck off. After knowing you, and knowing him, I don’t understand how you ended up with him.”

  Her eyes widen and she tries to turn away. “Fuck,” I murmur, and catch her arm, pulling her back to me. “That wasn’t about you.”

  “It sounded like it was about me.” She hangs onto the blanket but doesn’t touch me. “It sounded judgmental and pompous and—”