Renegade

by Alers, Rochelle

  Summer turned around for the first time since Dumas had stopped her. Her features were deceptively composed. “Thanks for asking. And yes, I’ll take that ride.”

  Gabriel smiled, but the warmth never reached his eyes. “I’ll you see you later.” He inclined his head. “Dumas.”

  Summer watched Gabriel walk, then without glancing at Dumas, she followed him.

  The return trip to Cotuit was accomplished in complete silence. There was no conversation, no music—nothing to break the swollen silence.

  Gabriel pressed a button on the visor of the car, and the garage door slid up silently. He maneuvered into the space, shut off the engine, and came around to open the passenger side door for Summer. He felt the delicate bones in her hand as his larger, stronger one closed on hers. She was so fragile, delicate. All he had to do was increase the pressure and the bones would break.

  Holding her hand called to mind what he had observed when Dumas had held the hand of the woman whom he now thought of as his. What he had wanted to do was launch himself across the gym and tackle Dumas before he had a chance to react. A jealous rage had threatened to turn him into a wild man wherein he would cause another human being serious physical harm.

  Tucking her hand in the curve of his elbow, he led her along the path to the front door. He had to let go of her hand when he unlocked the front door. A wave of heat greeted him as he stepped into the entryway, pulling Summer in with him. He closed the door, pressed her back against it, his hands anchored on either side of her head.

  Light from a lamp on the table in the space permitted him to see her questioning expression. “What’s up with you and Dumas?”

  Summer did not blink, as she said, “Nothing. Why?”

  Gabriel moved closer. “Every time I looked I saw him hovering over you.”

  Her expression softened as a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Jealous, baby?”

  His expression was impassive. “Yes.”

  She leaned forward and her breasts touched his chest. “There’s no need for that, sweetheart. Who was it I was shaking my booty for tonight?”

  A grin overtook his features until his whole face spread into a smile. “How did you do that little step where you stand still and your booty bounces?”

  “Step back and I’ll show you.”

  He complied, and Summer took off her coat, placing it on a chair. Showing him her back, she leaned down and grasped her ankles while keeping her knees straight. She did not see Gabriel’s shocked expression as she gave him an up close and personal view of her buttocks moving as if they had taken on a life of their own. She completed her routine when she dropped down then sprang up, peering at him over her shoulder.

  “That’s called ‘dropping it like it’s hot.’ ”

  The blood roared in Gabriel’s head, as he stared at Summer mouthing words. The only thing he registered was hot.

  He did not give her time to react when he looped an arm around her waist, lifting her high off her feet. Her legs flailed as he took long strides through the living room and to the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time.

  Summer knew they had crossed the threshold of their prior coming together when they fell on the bed, tearing at each other’s clothes. She heard her heels hit the floor with a dull thud, following by the sound of Gabriel’s boots joining them. He ripped off her Tina Turner wig, throwing it across the room. She laughed because it looked like a small furry creature running to escape a larger predator.

  Naked, mouths open, and breathing heavily, they literally tried to devour the other. Her shock was magnified when Gabriel lifted her off the bed and carried her into the adjoining bathroom.

  He opened the door to the shower stall, pulling her in with him. Closing the door, he turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was a softly falling warm spray. The water beat down on their heads and bodies as they clung together. They danced together for the second time that night, this dance of desire, wild and unrestrained.

  Gabriel strummed her body like he did a guitar. He tasted the nectar of her sweet mouth the way he licked a reed to moisten it before he inserted it in a mouthpiece for a sax or clarinet.

  Cradling her breasts, he moved down her body, ignoring her plea for him to stop. He would stop, but only when he got his fill—for now.

  Still holding her breasts, he went to his knees and drank the honey flowing between her thighs. He felt the bite of her nails against his scalp, heard her hoarse gasps as she sucked much needed air into her lungs.

  Her moans turned into a keening that snapped the last fragile thread on his control. He kissed the wet curls between her legs as he retraced his upward journey. The look on her face would be imprinted on his brain forever. Eyes closed, lower lip trembling in desire, Summer was in the throes of a passion every man wanted to glimpse just once in a lifetime from the woman he loved.

  Cradling her face between his hands, he licked at her mouth, leaving teasing kisses at the corners. She licked him back, and each time their tongues met, she moaned her pleasure.

  “Drop it like it’s hot for me, baby,” he crooned against her swollen mouth.

  Her body went pliant as she turned in his embrace and bent forward. Holding her waist with one hand, Gabriel guided his hardness into her feminine heat. A growl escaped his constricted throat when he felt her squeeze him once, twice, three times. He lost count after that as her hips moved against his thighs in a motion that was old as time itself.

  He felt the convulsions shaking her womb squeeze him, and lowering his head, he slid down to the floor of the stall, bringing her with him.

  The liquid fire in her body incinerated his, and he pressed his head to the tiled wall and waited for the flames to burn out. They sat, water beating down on their fevered bodies, joined in a passion that flooded them with lingering joy that went beyond words.

  Water spiked Summer’s lashes as she rested the back of her head on Gabriel’s shoulder. His hands were clasped over her belly, adding to the heat that did not come from the water pouring over their bodies.

  She shivered when his tongue touched her ear. A knowing smile curved her mouth. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I love you, Gabriel.”

  There was a moment of silence before he said, “I know.”

  Twenty

  Dumas stood up when Summer was shown into his office by his secretary. “Thank you, Jackie. Please close the door after you.” He walked around his desk, pulling out a chair at a small round table. “Please sit down, Miss Montgomery.” She sat, and he took a chair opposite her.

  She looked different today—much different than she had at the Halloween Ball. A black slim suede skirt, white turtleneck sweater, leather waistlength jacket and black riding boots pulled her winning outfit together. Her hair, with a fringe of bangs falling over her forehead, was pulled off her face with a black velvet ribbon.

  How staid she looked now when only a few days ago she had strutted and wiggled her hips like a dancer in a video. He’d watched her, like most of the boys and men, with his tongue hanging out.

  Summer observed Dumas through her lashes, seeing what he did not want her to see: fear. He was afraid she was going to tell someone that she saw him choking a student. She did not know the student’s name, and could not make inquiries without calling attention to herself. However, she had called Lucas on her cell phone early Saturday morning during her jog, promising she would get a name for him.

  She had gotten up early, leaving Gabriel asleep in bed, and completed her three-mile run. He was up and had showered by the time she returned. They’d spent the morning avoiding each other like cautious strangers. Their wanton coupling in the shower had frightened her because she was not aware that she was capable of such grand passion.

  They shared a walk along the beach later that afternoon, holding hands and talking about everything and anyone but themselves. She retired for bed first, waiting for Gabriel to join her. She fell asleep, and when she woke early Sunday morning he was
beside her, his arm thrown over her hip. When she attempted to leave the bed, he implored her to stay. She did stay, moving closer to his warmth. Within minutes they both had gone back to sleep.

  She crossed one leg over her knee, resting her hands on the arms of the chair. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Dumas did not drop his gaze. “You and me.”

  She blinked once. “What about you and me?”

  “Your insubordination, Miss Montgomery.”

  “Wrong choice of words, Mr. Gellis.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you, Miss Montgomery.”

  “Then don’t, Mr. Gellis,” she retorted.

  He ran a large hand over his face in a weary gesture. It was apparent he couldn’t intimidate Summer. He breathed deeply, successfully curbing his rising temper.

  “What happened between me and Omar Knight was unfortunate, and I regret losing my temper. I’ve apologized to him, reassuring him it will never happen again. And I promise you, Miss Montgomery, that it will never happen again with Omar or any other student here at Weir.

  “You weren’t here when we lost two of our best and brightest students to drug overdose. Meanwhile, another lies comatose as we speak, brain-dead because of someone selling death in my school. I can still see the faces of these kids, laughing and enjoying what they didn’t know would become a very short life. So, when I heard rumors that Omar was dealing on school property I…” His words trailed off as he buried his face in his hands. When he lowered his hands, moisture glistened in his dark eyes.

  Summer’s expression did not waver as she waited for Dumas to continue. Despite his impassionate monologue, she did not believe him. Unlike Patricia Cookman, who was childless, he was the father of two sons. Would he have wanted his sons’ teacher to put his boys in a chokehold? No, she mused, answering her own question.

  “I was thinking of my own sons,” he said, his voice hoarse and filled with emotion.

  “Would you want someone to choke them if they were suspected of doing something wrong? People have been known to riot and burn down cities because of what they perceive as police brutality. What you did to Omar bordered on brutality.”

  “And I said I was sorry.”

  “Don’t say it to me, but to the boy’s parents.”

  “Omar said he didn’t tell his parents.”

  Why? Is it because you threatened him with retaliation? She longed to speak her thoughts aloud, but held her tongue.

  “The only thing I can say is that you’re lucky Omar is not my son. First of all, I’d raise him to trust me enough to tell me anything—good or bad. And if he’d told me that you’d choked him, then you never would’ve been given the opportunity to say you’re sorry.”

  A sheen of perspiration formed on Dumas’s shaved head. “Are you threatening me, Miss Montgomery?”

  She gave him a chilling smile. “Of course not, Mr. Gellis.”

  Dumas returned her smile. “That’s reassuring to know.”

  Summer uncrossed her legs. “Are we finished here? I still have a few things to do before I leave for the day.”

  He gave her a long stare before his gaze dropped to her left hand. “Yes, we’re finished.”

  She rose to her feet, nodded, then walked out of the office, closing the door softly behind her. She had lied to Dumas. She had threatened him, because if Omar had been her son she doubted whether Gabriel would’ve been able to restrain her.

  Every time she and Gabriel made love she thought about his seed growing inside of her. She wanted a baby. But, that could not become a reality until next year.

  It was as if her life had been placed on hold until June twenty-fourth. It would be the twenty-fourth if no days were lost due to snow accumulation, otherwise it would be June thirtieth.

  A smile curved her mouth as she made her way to her office. She had a name! She would call Lucas and give him Omar Knight’s name.

  Gabriel and Summer changed positions at a rest stop in Maryland. Adjusting the seat to accommodate her shorter legs, she settled in behind the wheel. Gabriel had driven non-stop from Massachusetts to Delaware, stopping only to refuel the Porsche. They’d planned to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday weekend with Tyler and Dana Cole in Hillsboro, Mississippi, however, fogged-in conditions had closed Boston’s Logan Airport for more than twenty-four hours, which precluded any aircraft from landing or taking off. The only option was to drive to Georgetown. Once there they would connect with Merrick, Alexandra, Michael Kirkland and his family, and fly out of Washington-Dulles.

  Summer stared at Gabriel. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep.”

  “You’ll be okay?”

  Summer cut her eyes at him. “Of course I’ll be okay. Just go to sleep.”

  Reclining in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest, he closed his eyes. He did not relax until she shifted into gear and pulled out of the rest stop and into the flow of interstate traffic. A knowing smile curved the corners of his mouth. She handled his car better than he did.

  Summer shifted, signaled and changed lanes as if skating on glass. She occasionally glanced at the navigational screen displaying the interstate and local roads. Gabriel, with the push of several buttons, had electronically calculated the route from Massachusetts to Washington, D.C.

  She drove past familiar buildings, sites and neighborhoods: Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Rock Creek Park, the campus of Howard University, and Georgetown University and Hospital. Seeing them brought back memories of the first time she had come to Quantico as a recruit trainee. So much had happened in five years; it was as if she had lived two lifetimes in those five years. But her dangerous masquerade would end in seven months, whether or not she identified the dealer or dealers at Weir.

  Turning into the cul-de-sac where Michael and Jolene Kirkland lived, she reached over and shook Gabriel. “We’re here. Which house?”

  Gabriel came awake immediately. He raised his seat, blinking. “It’s the one with the red pipe fence.”

  Summer stared in awe at the structure, which looked like a Frank Lloyd Wright Japanese-inspired design. “It’s beautiful.” She maneuvered into a driveway that curved around to the back of the house. Soft lighting was illuminated as she passed motion detectors.

  A side door opened, and Michael Kirkland stepped out, pointing to his right. “Pull it in over there.” The door to a garage opened silently and she maneuvered next to a black SUV with West Virginia plates.

  “Alex and Merrick are here,” Gabriel said, opening his door. “I’ll get the luggage.”

  “Leave the luggage here,” Michael said as he approached them. “The car service just called, and they’ll be here in an hour.”

  Summer smiled at him as he extended his arms. “Hey, cousin. Welcome to the family.”

  She went into his embrace, her arms going under his shoulders. “Thank you.”

  Pulling back, he stared at her. “Do you really want to marry this moody SOB?”

  Summer laughed. “I wouldn’t have him any other way.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “I guess that told you, primo.”

  Michael laughed loudly. “That’s what I like. A woman who takes up for her man.”

  “Hush, Michael,” came a woman’s voice from the doorway. “You’re going to wake up the children.”

  Michael lifted his eyebrows. “The boss speaks.”

  “I heard that, Michael Kirkland.”

  “I meant for you to hear it, Jolene Kirkland.”

  Gabriel shook his head as he placed his luggage and Summer’s near several others lined alongside the door. “You’re talking that smickedy smack because you’re standing out here, primo. If I were you, I wouldn’t go back in the house tonight.”

  Jolene Kirkland stepped out of the house, hands folded on her hips. “Why are you hanging out here, Michael? Don’t you realize Gabriel and Summer have been driving more than half the night?” Walking over to Summer, she wound her arm through hers and kissed her cheek. “Come inside and rela
x a bit before we have to leave. Alex and I also want to see your ring,” she added sotto voce. “Have you eaten?”

  “Gabriel and I had a quick bite in the car when we stopped to refuel.”

  “Even though we’re not scheduled to take-off until after midnight, we’ll eat during the flight.” She led her into the kitchen. “Let me see your ring.” Summer extended her left hand. Overhead light reflected off the flawless center stone. “I’m afraid of you,” Jolene gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

  Summer smiled. “Thank you.”

  Jolene shook her head. “Don’t thank me, girlfriend. Thank your man.”

  “Believe me, I did.”

  Snapping her fingers, Jolene said, “Hel-lo.”

  Jolene Walker-Kirkland led Summer through the chef’s kitchen and into a room that resembled a Japanese teahouse. Octagonal in shape, the walls were made entirely of screened-in windows. A low lacquered table, surrounded by large black and pale green floor cushions, was set up in the middle of the room. A woven rug made of straw covered the gleaming oak floor, while low tables overflowed with delicate bonsai plants. Towering stalks of bamboo in glazed containers grew in wild abandonment. Gurgling water from a large indoor corner pool created a soothing mood. Flickering candles and soft lighting invited one to come and stay a while.

  “Your house is beautiful.”

  Jolene smiled. “Thank you. We expanded it a couple of years ago. Unfortunately, I can’t give you a tour now, but why don’t you and Gabriel come down whenever you guys have a school recess.”

  “I’ll talk to him about it.”

  “It can’t be Christmas, because everyone goes to Florida, so consider it for February.”

  Summer did not want to tell Jolene that she would probably go to St. Louis in February. It had been too long since she’d seen her Gram.

  Merrick, who sat next to Alexandra, stood up. Closing the distance between them, he hugged Summer, his smile warm and genuine. “Congratulations,” he said, kissing her cheek.