"I will. Thanks, Sully," Gabriel said, and he put the phone on the coffee table. She watched as he rested his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.
Cate had just started towards him when Legs meowed loudly, twining herself in and out of Cate's legs. Gabriel sat up with a start.
"Sorry. I couldn't sleep, so…" She left the sentence unfinished. He looked at her with such intensity that Cate wondered if he could see through her—like with Superman's X-ray vision, except that instead of her bones, he could see all her secrets, emotions, and thoughts. He blinked, breaking the connection, and looked puzzled. Right. What was he supposed to do about it?
"I was wondering if—well, I thought that maybe…"
"Spit it out, Cate." He stood then, and walked towards her, caressing her arms with his hands. "What do you want?"
"Will you hold me tonight? I don't want to be alone," she whispered.
"Of course. We can stay down here and—"
"No. In my room." His eyebrows rose. "I need you, Gabriel."
He nodded his agreement, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him up the stairs with her. She took her normal side of the bed and watched as he crossed to the other side. He slipped his shirt off over his head but kept his jeans on. She couldn't move, watching this huge man get into her bed. No man had ever been there before.
Cate knew this wasn't sexual. She was too raw for anything that intimate, that permanent. But she wanted his arms around her more than she wanted air right now.
"Are you going to stand there all night, or get in bed at some point?" he asked, one brow arching and a smile tugging at one side of his mouth.
Her face heated up, and she hurriedly jumped into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Gabriel reached under her, scooping her up and pulling her close to him, tucking her rear into his stomach. It was such an intimate pose, one that lovers took after lovemaking, or that a husband and wife chose to cuddle in before they fell asleep. Cate was stiff with nerves and almost flinched when she felt Gabriel's warm breath on the back of her neck.
"Relax, Cate. I won't bite," he said and chuckled softly.
Why was she so nervous? This was Gabriel. Her Gabriel. And even though he was the only man who could break her heart, she also knew that he would never physically hurt her. She was safe with him. She relaxed, letting out a long breath and settling in closer to him.
"Night, Gabriel," she whispered. He answered her with a soft kiss to the back of her head. "Thank you."
* * * *
Gabriel held Cate in his arms, her backside tucked up against his front. She was so tiny and vulnerable. It made the caveman in him come out, spurring him to drag her into his cave by her hair and beat anyone that bothered her with his club.
He'd already failed her once. Her admission that she'd been forced to leave in the middle of the night by some unknown stranger with the authority to get her passport revoked had nearly brought him to his knees. When she'd needed him most, he had allowed his insecurities and self-doubts to cloud his perception of her. He’d betrayed her. Abandoned her. And yet she lay here in his arms—her head resting against his chest—her soft, rhythmic breathing peaceful and calming.
Could she ever forgive him? He loved her. He knew that now. He'd loved her then, and that had never changed. But could she ever love him or trust him again? She trusted him at this moment, to hold her and keep her safe. Would she ever be able to trust him with her heart?
He didn't deserve her love. He didn't deserve anyone's love.
"You're a worthless piece of crap. Good for nothing!" she yelled at him, as the man who’d ruined what little Gabriel had in his miserable life, walked out the door.
He was used to men coming and going at all hours of the night. Some stayed for days or weeks, others just for the night, leaving money on the bedside table. Since Gabriel's bed was on the ragtag couch in the main room of this one-bedroom hovel, he was privy to all the sounds coming from behind his mama's closed door. He often wondered what it would be like to have a room all his own. A room where he could lock the door and keep himself safe from some of the men who looked at him funny—kind of the way they looked at his mama.
The man standing in front of his couch had not only wanted his mama, he'd also wanted Gabriel. He'd been asleep early that morning when the man had pushed his long, curly hair away from his face.
"You're as pretty as a little girl," the man had said, his breath smelling of stale beer and decay, his face too close for comfort.
Gabriel had pushed back against the arm of the old couch, curling up to make himself look smaller, as if he could blend in with the furniture.
"Come here, boy," the man had tried again, pulling at Gabriel's arm.
"No!" Gabriel shouted. He wasn't about to let that man do to him what he'd done to his mama. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what went on in there. He was ten years old, after all.
The man reared back and hit Gabriel across the face. Tears streamed from his eyes and clouded his vision. The man took advantage of Gabriel's weakness and secured Gabriel's arms above his head. He lay on top of him, trying to get Gabriel's pants down his legs. Screaming and crying, he thrashed back and forth.
"Mama! Mama, help me!"
"Ain't no one gonna help you, boy. Your mama's got enough drugs in her to knock her out for a week."
"Mama! Mama, help!" Gabriel cried out. She wasn't a very good mom, but surely she'd help him. Surely she would hear him.
A movement in her doorway caught his eye. The man paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder at her. His mama's eyes were dead, her expression lifeless. She was dressed in a thin slip that had clearly seen better days. Her hair was mussed, and she had red abrasions all over her neck and chest. She also had needle tracks up her arm. She looked into his eyes, cocking her head to the side as if she were confused.
"Mama?" Gabriel cried.
And then she turned her back on him, closing the door to her bedroom behind her.
"See? I told you. Ain't nobody here to help you. Now be a good boy, and this will only hurt a little."
Rage made Gabriel see red, filling him with adrenaline and courage. He fought with everything that was in his tiny, too skinny, ten-year-old body. He kicked the guy in the balls, then sank his teeth deep into his arm, the tangy taste of blood reaching his tongue. The pervert jumped off him, one hand cupping his bruised package while he cradled the injured arm close to his body.
"You're going to pay for that, kid!" the man yelled. Gabriel’s mama walked out through her door again, and the man turned on her. "You'll pay, too! You hear me? I don't need this!"
Somehow, that sank into her head, and she got down on her knees in front of him.
"Please, James! Please don't leave me. I need you. Please, James!" she pleaded.
He released his balls long enough to backhand her across the face. She fell to the floor, sobbing and trying to crawl after him. The man walked towards their front door, pausing to turn back to them.
"Next time I come around, this boy better be willing to do what I ask. Got that?"
He slammed the door behind him as he left, leaving Gabriel curled up on the couch, the man's blood dribbling from his mouth.
His mama lay sobbing on the floor. He went to her, his arms wrapping around her thin shoulders.
"You ok, mama? Can I get you something?" he asked.
"YOU! This is all your fault! If you'd just done what he wanted, he'd still be here, and we'd have money. Now we got nothing! He left us. Just like your no-good, lying father did. I wish he'd taken you with him."
Gabriel sank back on his knees, his heart breaking as his mama, the only person he had in the world, told him what a burden he was.
"You're unlovable, Gabriel. No one will ever love you. You ain't worth it!" she yelled, stumbling as she tried to get to her feet.
He jumped to his own feet to steady her, when blinding pain exploded on the side of his head. His ears were ringing as he braced himself for the next hit. It came as
a punch to his gut, which laid him out flat on his back next to the makeshift coffee table. She fell on him then, hitting him over and over again until, tiring at last, she placed her hands on his throat and squeezed.
Shocked from the blows, Gabriel tried to pry her hands off his throat, clawing and scraping. The drugs must have given her extra strength, as nothing would budge her. He could feel the flesh on her hands and forearms tearing under his fingernails, and yet she pressed harder.
"No good kid. Nothing but trouble. Ungrateful bastard!" she screamed as she tried to choke the life out of him.
Blackness edged his vision as he desperately tried to remove her hands from his throat. Scrambling to find something to help him, he felt for the ashtray that sat on the table for his mother's chain-smoking habit. Finally, he felt the cool ceramic under his fingers, and he grappled for it, finding purchase on the edge. Lifting it with what little strength he had left, his arm came up, knocking his mama in the head, right at the temple. Her eyes widened, and then she fell on top of him, her hands releasing their hold from around his throat.
Coughing and sputtering, he crawled out from underneath her. He sobbed, crying for the hatred that his own mother felt for him. Weeping that no one loved him. That no one would protect him.
Several minutes went by as he desperately tried to get air into his starving lungs. His throat was sore and bruised, and it hurt to breathe or swallow. Finally, he touched his mama's shoulder.
"Mama?" he asked.
She didn't move.
"Mama! Wake up! I need to get you back to bed."
Nothing. He turned her over, and her eyes were wide open, staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
He scooted back away from her—away from the horror.
He'd killed her! He had killed his own mother.
The tears flowed down his face as he screamed and screamed.
"Gabriel! Gabriel!" Warm hands shook his shoulders, and he shook his head back and forth. What had he done?
"Gabriel!" The hands shook him harder, and he shot upright, turning with his fist pulled back, ready to strike.
"Gabriel! It's me!" Her soft voice penetrated his dark memories, and he blinked as she came into focus. Cate. His Cate.
"Are you ok?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his raised fist. He lowered it, dropping his head into his hands.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He wasn't sure if he was apologizing to Cate or to his dead mother. Maybe both?
She scooted closer to him on the bed, wrapping her soft, gentle arms around him. She would never hurt anyone. Could never hurt anyone. Cate was everything that was right with the world, and he was going to corrupt her. Just his presence in her life would be like the dark clouds that covered the bright rays of the sun.
He was dark, and she was light. He was unlovable, and she was the personification of love itself.
"Did you have a bad dream?" she asked, curling up on his lap, forcing him to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. It was as if she knew that he needed to hold her. That he needed to ground himself in reality and goodness. Her goodness.
"More like a bad memory," he answered.
"Want to talk about it?" she asked, as she traced the lines of the phoenix tattoo over his collarbone.
"Not really."
"Ok."
And that was it. No argument. No pressure. Just her simple acceptance of him. He held her more tightly. His face bent close to hers, and she lifted her chin to press a gentle kiss on his lips. That little touch ignited a fire within him. It was all-consuming as he took the plunge, vowing to burn for her forever.
* * * *
Consumed. That's how Cate felt as Gabriel kissed her like his life depended on it. She had thought she would comfort him, her heart nearly breaking as he called out for his mama, tears soaking his pillow and his body shaking from the tremors.
He was broken and troubled. Something had happened in his past, and she'd heard a few things that had already made her weep for the boy that had lost his mother at a young age and grown up in a place that most grown adults wouldn't venture near.
But as he continued to make love to her mouth—tasting, nipping, exploring—she realized that this was his lifeline. She wanted him to feel loved. She couldn't tell him what was in her heart—it was much too soon for that. Cate wasn't sure she could trust him with her heart just yet. But this—she could give him this.
She moved to straddle him, one leg on each side of him. Taking his head in her hands, she angled her head for deeper access. His mouth moved against hers, his tongue delving more deeply and sliding against hers in a way that sent fire racing along her nerves.
Her heart was beating wildly, the passion building inside her making her skin feel too small, too tight. She tilted her head back, giving Gabriel access to her neck. He sucked on a pulse point near the base of her throat, then licked it with the flat of his tongue. She knew he'd marked her, and she didn't care. She wanted to be branded by him—needed to feel as if she was his.
Pulling back, Cate traced her fingers down his chest, letting them linger over his abs. He was beautiful, tan and roped with long, lean muscle. His chest was perfectly defined, with a fine smattering of dark hair across it. It trailed down his abdomen and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
Gabriel drew her closer once again, but this time he didn't kiss her. He simply held her close, her head resting on his chest, and his heartbeat thundering loudly in her ear.
They sat there for…one minute? Ten? She wasn't sure. Finally, she looked up into his ice-blue eyes. "Why did you stop?"
"Because you deserve more."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that all my life, I've gone from one woman to the next, hopping from bed to bed. You deserve more. You deserve it all." He lifted her off his lap and placed her back on her side of the bed. He slipped under the covers and opened his arms.
"You think this conversation is over?" she asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
He grinned, clearly amused by her pouting. "Let's get some sleep, ok? You can argue with me in the morning."
The temptation to curl up next to him was too great for her to continue to act mad. She wasn't sure what his declaration meant—why he’d put the brakes on. Cate loved his words—that she deserved it all. In some ways, though, she disagreed. Not because she didn't deserve good things. It was just that she felt like he deserved those good things, too, and something in his eyes told her that he didn't believe that.
She tucked herself up close to him, his arms wrapping tightly around her. He kissed the top of her head and sighed.
She lay there for some time, wondering what had had Gabriel screaming in his dreams. What demons tormented him?
Chapter 15
Gabriel woke with a start. He paused for a moment, looking around to see where he was. He took in the floor-to-ceiling windows with sheer panels framing each side, the tufted white headboard, and the whitewashed dresser. He lifted the pale pink comforter and glanced under the covers. He let his head fall to the pillow. Cate's room. Cate's bed. And he was still fully clothed.
It wasn't surprising that this was the first time that Gabriel had ever woken up fully clothed in a woman's bed. What was surprising was that this was the first time that he'd ever woken up in a woman's bed without her still in it. Usually, it was he who did the disappearing act the morning after. Of course, in this case, there was no morning after. He hadn't been able to treat her like the many women before her. She was different. Special.
Damn emotions!
Where was Cate, anyway? Pushing the covers away, Gabriel stood to go look for her when he heard the shower running in the next room. She hadn't left him. His breathing slowed, and his heart rate returned to normal, the momentary panic forgotten. For a moment, he thought that maybe she'd seen that he wasn't worth the trouble.
He heard the water turn off and sank down on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. The soft smacking sound of damp feet walking across t
he floor met his ears, and he looked up to meet the eyes of the woman he loved. The woman who had captured his heart five years ago and had refused to let it go. Now, he just had to figure out how to have her without putting out her light. How to get her to trust him—not only with her safety, but also with her heart.
A smile broke across her face.
"You snore," she accused.
"I do not."
"You do. Not loudly, but you snore all the same."
His eyes raked across the exposed skin of her chest and shoulders, the short towel wrapped around her body, and the vast amount of bare skin that peeked out from underneath it. Did she not own a bigger towel? It was like temptation all wrapped up for him in a tiny, terrycloth bundle.
She cleared her throat, and he realized he was staring. He lifted his eyes and caught the smirk stretching her lips. "I, uh, need to get dressed."
He nodded.
"Can I have some privacy?" she asked, the duh resounding in her tone.
Gabriel jumped up from the bed and pushed his hands through his hair.
"Yeah, of course. I'll just—you know—like, take a shower." He rolled his eyes at himself. What was he, fifteen?
Cate's giggle followed him out the door as she pushed it closed. Gabriel found the shower and turned it on, pushing his jeans down his legs and stepping into the freezing water. He needed to get a grip, and a cold shower seemed to be just the way to accomplish that.
After showering, Gabriel toweled off his hair as he walked down the steps to the kitchen. He'd left his shirt off, donning only a pair of jeans. Cate's perusal of his chest as he made his entrance gave him back a little of the footing he'd lost before.
He cleared his throat, and her eyes went wide, jumping to his.
"Um, sorry. I mean, hi. I mean…" She paused and looked up at the ceiling, her coffee mug halfway to her mouth. "Want some breakfast?" she finished, much too cheerily.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one affected by bare skin this morning.
Castle Investigations Box Set Page 38
