His grandmother"s eyes widened. “Really? Is she the woman we met last June?
Celine?”
Marcus smothered a smile. When Celine had joined them for dinner one evening, his grandparents had been…polite. Their reaction to her had added weight to his decision to step back. He didn"t want a surface-sweet, manipulative woman; he wanted one who"d yell at him to his face, one who could keep him as fascinated as Gramps was with Nana.
In the lifestyle, his grandmother would be known as a brat. “No, Nana, you haven"t met her.”
“Are we likely to?” she asked bluntly.
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He smiled at the thought of a meeting. Gabi had an effect on others like the spring sun on flowers, and it wasn"t because she was a pushover, but because she liked people. Despite her sassy mouth, she cared, and they could feel that. The little brat would probably give his domineering grandfather a rough time, and Gramps would love it. “I very much hope so, yes.”
“Was she the woman in here yesterday?” Nana asked.
“No one was in here with him,” Gramps said.
“Remember when we returned from the cafeteria? A young lady came out of Marcus"s room.” She paused. “The same one who sat in the waiting room the entire time we were there.”
His grandfather frowned, his bushy brows forming one line as he thought.
“The one who kept the little teen from having hysterics?”
Nana nodded.
“Curvy. Fair with light red hair.” He snorted. “And a blue streak in it?”
“That"s her,” Marcus said, smiling.
“She looked like somebody beat the hell out of her.” His grandfather"s face hardened. “Did you get the bast—bad guy?”
“We did.”
“All right then.” Blue eyes the same color as Marcus"s zeroed in. “You going to get the girl too?”
“I am.”
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Chapter Twenty-three
In her car, Gabi sat in the parking lot of the FBI Tampa field office. This emotional stuff was going to have to end real soon, dammit. She studied her hands.
Nice and steady. Her face in the mirror looked calm, despite the yellowing bruises on her cheek and jaw.
Her insides felt like a pile of scooped-up Jell-O. If Dickhead had told stories about her, well…she"d just have to deal with it. At least she didn"t work in Tampa.
To her surprise, no one gave her any trouble. On the contrary, the ones who recognized her thanked her and promised they weren"t giving up. No sidelong looks at all.
“Ms. Renard.”
Gabi stopped in the hallway and turned to see four women in business attire.
The one in the lead grinned and held out her hand. “I"m Marjorie—one of the other decoys. I wanted to congratulate you on the job you did. Agent Kouros kept holding you up as a shining example of getting into the role, and you aren"t even an agent.”
“Uh. Thank you.”
“And you didn"t give up,” another younger woman said. “Even when your backup abandoned you.”
Gabi couldn"t help asking. “I never did hear what happened to Agent Rhodes.”
Marjorie snorted. “Agent no longer. Something else we have to thank you for.”
She rolled her eyes. “He said you"d come on to him, blahda-blahda-blah. But, although he managed to side-step written complaints, everyone here knows what kind of an asshole he is. When he tried to lay the blame on you, every woman in the office lined up to set the facts straight. Between the complaints about him, the fact you had to defend yourself, and him leaving you without orders or calling in? He"s history.”
A tall brunette swept a courtly bow. “And the females in this division thank you.”
Well, there is a God. Gabi grinned. “Sounds like I owe you thanks, and you certainly brightened my day.”
As the women continued down the hall, Gabi opened the door to the office Galen had commandeered. Same dingy decor. He sat at the small table again, talking with Jessica.
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“You"re here!” Jessica limped across the room to hug Gabi. “I wanted to visit you in the hospital, but Z wouldn"t let me leave the first day, and these guys”—she wrinkled her nose at Galen—“monopolized the next morning, and then you disappeared. Where"d you go? Mr. Never-Talk Galen won"t tell me.”
“I"ve been staying with my parents in Orlando.” Only one more day there and then home for good.
“Are they vacationing in Disney World?”
“No, they live there. My father is a lawyer for Thompson and Dunn International.” An important, dignified job. No scandals allowed. When Galen had called them from her hospital room, she"d heard their revulsion that she was involved in something sordid. It might wipe off on them, right? But Galen had pushed, and her parents had agreed to let her stay in their house.
She pressed her hand over the cold lump in her stomach. The visit had been…difficult. Somehow, maybe from having almost died, she"d realized down to the bone that they"d never love her. And the only way to obtain their respect would be to turn herself into a pale reflection of them.
I like myself. Surely if she said it often enough, the pain would diminish. And hey, she had friends who liked her, a grandmother who loved her, clients who needed her. A person could survive without her parents" love. So get over it already.
When Gabi smiled, the worried expression on Jessica"s face eased.
“Please join us,” Galen said, patting a chair on his right.
Gabi settled herself in the chair. Carefully. Even several days after the kidnapping, her head still hurt, her body hurt.
“One last debriefing with both of you,” he said. “Give me any tidbit, interrupt each other, add in what else you might have heard.”
By the time they finished, Gabi felt depleted and the aching in her owies had increased an order of magnitude. Then again, she shouldn"t complain. She could be screaming under a whip. Raped. Have someone like Jang…
Her stomach twisted, and she started to spiral into a panic attack. Breathe.
She closed her eyes, trying to get control. Think of something else. Marcus"s voice saying, “Easy, sugar. It’s over. You’re safe, sweetheart.” The way his gaze could take her elsewhere. Breathe.
Her chest loosened, and she opened her eyes.
Jessica had taken her hand.
Galen was frowning. “Let me get you some water.”
“Sorry.” The panic attacks and emotional crap would improve, she knew. Been there, done that.
After she"d passed out in the elevator by Marcus"s room, they"d admitted her to the hospital—just like ten years ago. Same old merry-go-round. Hospital stay, interviews by cops and FBI, dumped on her parents to finish recovering. Panic attacks. Eventually a return to normality.
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As Galen handed her the water, Vance walked in. “Hey, Jessica.”
“Hi, Vance.”
“Gabrielle.” The big agent grinned and came over to gently shake her hand.
“You look like hell.”
Gabi snorted, feeling better. “Thanks a lot.” She took a sip of water, pleased when it went down without difficulty.
“You seeing Marcus today?” Vance asked.
Just like that, the water stuck in her throat. She choked and coughed and tried not to whimper at the stabbing pains in her ribs. She said hoarsely, “No.”
Vance frowned. “Does he…?” He shook his head. “First things first. Galen, boot up your computer. I have a couple of problems that came up.”
Galen picked up his cane. “Excuse us, ladies.”
As the two men moved away, Gabi turned to Jessica. “Did you and Z… Um.”
The blonde laughed. “We definitely ummed. And Gabi? What you said helped—
not only the explanation of the kidnapping stuff, but how Z feels about
me. We"re getting married. Soon.”
“Oh. My. God.” Gabi hugged her, ignoring the complaints from her ribs. “That is the best news I"ve had all week.”
“I"m so happy.” Jessica bounced in her chair. Then her brows drew together.
“Although he"s still pretty steamed I left the club that night without him. He said something about putting me in leg shackles.”
Gabi snickered. “You poor baby.” After waiting for her voice to steady, she asked, “So how is Marcus? Have you seen him?”
“Yeah, we"ve visited him almost every day—got him groceries and stuff. He seemed a little shocked at first about everybody showing up to help out, but he"s mellowed a lot. Anyway, he"s doing all right, but he"s not supposed to use his arm much. The doctor gave him a sling.”
Relief felt like a cool breath of air. “Good. That"s good.”
“Well, well.” Jessica raised her eyebrows. “Did you get hooked on him like all the trainees do?”
Just another one of the trainees, huh? Gabi assumed a rueful smile. “Guess so.”
“You met his girlfriend yet?”
“Oh yeah. The lovely Celine made a point of introducing herself.” He deserves so much better.
“She would. She goes out of her way to make it clear he belongs to her.” Jessica shrugged. “Damned if I know how she caught him—I still don"t know him that well—but men are really stupid sometimes. Still, she"s the kind of oh-so-sweet sub he likes. Everybody knows he doesn"t like bratty subs.”
“Sally mentioned that.” And he told me himself.
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Jessica"s mouth curved. “You"re a lot like Sally, you know. I bet if the agents had asked you to be a sweet, passive submissive, you"d have had a lot more trouble playing the part.”
“Oh thanks,” Gabi snapped, then tried to imagine herself being all sweetness and light. Ugh. “You"re right. You bitch.”
Jessica giggled. “So why don"t you ask Marcus to introduce you to a dom who likes brats?”
Oh sure, and how pitiful would that be? Please, Marcus, if you won’t have me, do you know someone who would? “Thanks, but I"m going back to Miami on Monday.”
“Already?”
“I need to work. I really do. Sitting around is…” Too filled with memories and wishes and disappointments. Between her parents" disapproval and loving a man who didn"t like her personality, she not only needed a distraction but to surround herself with her friends too— before I throw a pity party to end all parties.
“Got it.” Jessica smiled. “I wanted to go back yesterday, but Z told me I had to wait until Monday. For someone who said he only dominates in the bedroom, he sure gets bossy sometimes.”
“And you love it.”
“Well, yeah. Still, it"s probably better that he doesn"t know that.”
Gabi raised her eyebrows. “If you think he can"t tell, you are so delusional.”
Jessica snickered. “Point to you.” She glanced at her watch and grimaced. “I"ve got to go.” Her hand curled around Gabi"s. “I wish you could stay. When you come back to visit your folks, why don"t you call, and we"ll get together?”
“I…don"t visit my parents. I"m only there because Galen wanted me close to Tampa and I was too dizzy to stay alone.” Gabi managed a smile. “They"re pretty conservative, and…they don"t approve of me. At all.” God, Gabi. Pathetic much?
“Oh.” Jessica frowned. “Well, maybe come back to the Shadowlands for a visit?”
“Jessica, I don"t think that would be a good idea.”
The blonde"s eyes turned unhappy. “You really did fall for Marcus, didn"t you?
Oh, Gabrielle…”
“I know. Wouldn"t work…and I agree.” Gabi made a shooing gesture. “Go.
Don"t draw this out or we"ll both end up bawling. Galen would be horrified.”
Jessica nodded, gave a quick hug, and hurried out of the room.
Gabi moved her chair to face the windows and pretended to watch the thunderclouds building up on the horizon. When she had her emotions under control, she turned back around and saw Vance leaning on the desk watching her.
Galen had resumed his seat at the table and had the same assessing expression.
“Are you two through with me?” she asked coolly.
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“Only a few things left,” Galen said. “Your friend, Kimberly. I"m sorry, Gabrielle. It"s not good. If we can take this organization down, we might be able to trace her. But our best bet—finding them before the auction—didn"t happen.” He looked so unhappy she wanted to pat his hand.
“I know.” When she finally accepted the facts—that there was nothing anyone could do—she"d spent a day crying. Grieving. “Please…just please don"t stop looking.”
“You know we won"t,” Vance said.
“Thank you.” She looked away for a second. “So what else?”
“Z and the other Masters have all called, wanting to make sure you"re all right.
We"ve reassured them that you are.”
Hearing that the doms had worried warmed her. “Thank you. Anything else?”
“Marcus has called every day wanting to know how you are and where you are.
Wanting your number.” Vance grinned. “He got pretty damned annoyed when I didn"t hand it over. But regulations say I need your permission. I assume you"re okay with it?”
She so didn"t want to see him. She"d said good-bye. If she"d had any lingering hopes, Jessica had crumbled them like dead leaves on a vine. She pushed her emotions into a box and shut the lid. “No, I"m not.”
Vance"s smile disappeared. “What?”
“My job is finished. I"m going to put this behind me, and I"d rather not have any reminders. Please don"t give him—or anyone—my information.”
“Marcus didn"t sound as if he thought everything was finished,” Vance said slowly.
Her eyes prickled with unshed tears. “He"s a nice man. I"m sure if you tell him I"m fine, that"s all he needs.”
Galen leaned back in his chair, his gaze intent. “I got the impression he cared more than that.”
“He"s very protective of his trainees.”
“I…see.” Vance sighed. “Well, Gabrielle, the protective bastard isn"t going to believe us that you refused, and he"ll hound us. Would you mind calling him and explaining?”
The wish to hear Marcus"s voice again dissolved in the knowledge of what it would do to her. No more crying. “Sorry, you"ll just have to cope.” She pushed her chair back, needing to be gone.
Galen"s mouth tightened. “He deserves more than being blown off, Gabrielle.
The man risked his life for you.”
Guilt stabbed worse than the pain in her ribs. But Marcus didn"t really want her; they just didn"t understand. She said in an even voice, “I know he did, and I"m very grateful.”
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“Gratitude, hell.” Galen tossed a piece of paper and a pen across the table.
“You write him a note explaining, or I"ll give him every number we have on file for you.”
She took a step back, feeling as if he"d slapped her.
His black eyes were cold. Implacable. “Do it now.”
You bastard. She shoved her tears down. “You know, any resemblance between you and a human being is purely coincidental.”
“I"ve heard that.” He rapped the table with his knuckles and pushed to his feet.
“Leave it here and I"ll see that he gets it.” He turned to Vance. “We"re due in Benton"s office now.”
Vance nodded.
Galen limped to the door, glanced back once. “Be well, Gabrielle.”
She looked away.
Vance hugged her. “We enjoyed working with you, Gabrielle. Take care of yourself.”
“You too.” As he walked toward the door, she cleared her throat. “He was only kidding about writing a note, right?”
* * *
On Saturday, Marcus stalked into the Shadowlands. A sub said hi, met his eyes, and backed away. He tried to be amused and failed. Thank Christ Z had assigned the trainees to Mistress Olivia for the rest of September, or he"d probably terrify them too. The music from the dance floor reverberated through the room, the bass hitting his bones in repetitious blows. He nodded curtly as people greeted him, grateful the doctor had let him abandon the sling and he didn"t have to explain to every nosey parker how he"d been hurt.
He glanced around. Z said the FBI agents planned to drop by tonight to give the Masters an update and their thanks. Marcus intended to ask for an update also.
The bastards had refused to tell him Gabi"s location; perhaps they"d be more cooperative in person.
“Hey, Marcus.” Behind the bar, Cullen waggled a bottle of beer.
Marcus hesitated, then walked over and took the drink. He"d stopped his pain meds yesterday, and his shoulder throbbed like a sadistic dentist had drilled holes in it. “Thank you, Cullen.”
“You look a bit pissed off. Anything I can do?”
Marcus"s mood lightened slightly. To his surprise, all the Masters had visited him in the hospital. Once he"d gone home, their care continued. Z and Jessica had brought groceries and books on Monday, followed by Dan and Kari, who"d cooked and frozen meals for him to microwave. On Tuesday, Nolan and Beth had stopped 224
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by to run errands and had found Sensei and a batch of his teenagers there. Beth had commandeered the boys to do his yard work. Impressed by their enthusiasm, she"d hired two for her gardening service.
Wednesday, Anne, Olivia, and Sam had visited in the morning. Then Andrea had cleaned his house—over his objections—while Cullen had put together a meal.
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