by T. M. Cromer
The little weasel glared his disdain, his body practically bristling with anger at finding Gabriel present. “Is Margie home? I need to speak with her.”
“She was about to phone your call center. Seems she had a break-in. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that, would you?”
“What are you implying?” Don snapped.
“I’m not implying a damned thing. I’m asking outright what you know.”
The other man tried to muscle by him, but Gabriel stood firm and put up a hand to push him back. “You should know, I don’t trust you, you fucker. I’ve dealt with many men like you my entire career.” He refused to provide a hint of his childhood trauma. “You’re a sneaky little liar, and the first time I catch you being untruthful, your connection with Margaret will be severed. You got me?”
“Gabriel!”
He spun around to stare down into Margaret’s shocked face. The words explaining his actions wouldn’t come, which was odd because he made his living concocting the perfect phrase to defend people. How did he tell her his behavior was all for her? For sure, she’d view this confrontation as jealousy, but it went much deeper.
“Don, come inside.” She gave Gabriel a severe side look.
Because his body was blocking the swine, Margaret missed Don’s smug satisfaction. Gabriel didn’t. He growled, causing the other man to skitter sideways.
Margaret bit her lip and dropped her eyes to the floor. Either she was super pissed, or she was struggling not to laugh. Gabriel suspected the latter. Her hand brushed his, and they entwined fingers. All was forgiven, and he understood her show of shock wasn’t real.
Together, they followed Don into the living room.
When the shorter man turned back around, his gaze zeroed in on their joined hands, and white lines formed around his compressed mouth.
Gabriel fought like hell to prevent his mocking smile. He failed. Okay, so maybe he didn’t try all that hard.
“Margie, I was notified by one of my employees that—”
“Which employee?” Gabriel demanded.
“What?”
“Which employee notified you there was a problem?”
Don’s mouth opened and closed as his mind worked to come up with an answer.
No employee found the problem. The man standing before them had. Why he needed to lie about it was anyone’s guess. In all likelihood, Don watched her account closely for the very reason he was here now—he wanted to appear important in her eyes by responding so quickly.
Since Gabriel had no way of proving any of the things he suspected, he let it go.
Ripping his hostile stare from Gabriel, Don waved a USB memory stick in the air. From his back pocket, he pulled a folded sheet of paper. “At eleven-forty-three a.m., it shows the system was armed. Twenty minutes later, it was disarmed and not armed again until two hours later. At four-fifteen p.m., the alarm was shut off a second time.”
“That’s when we arrived home. So between noon and two, someone else was definitely in my home. What about the exterior cameras? Do they show an intruder?” The furrow between Margaret’s brows deepened.
“I’m afraid not.” Don handed her the stick, holding onto it a little longer than necessary. He stroked the back of her hand once before she jerked away. “They must’ve had a scrambler to disrupt the signal. The video is blank between the times I told you.” He looked between them. “I’m happy to contact the police for you.”
“You’ve done enough.” Gabriel stepped forward to create a buffer between Margaret and Don. “Thanks for the memory stick. We’ll turn it over to the proper authorities.”
Don glared at him a moment before his look turned calculating. Without taking his eyes from Gabriel, he leaned sideways and spoke to Margaret. “You should know, dear, the panel was accessed by someone with your code. Whoever came through your door, knew your schedule.”
Fury fueled every cell in Gabriel’s body when the smarmy weasel used an endearment. “First, she’s not your ‘dear,’ and second—”
Margaret’s hand on his forearm calmed him—marginally. “Thank you, Don. We’ll take it from here. In the future, you can just call with this information or email it to me. We don’t want to take you away from your business any more than you need to be.”
“I don’t mind. For you.” Don’s gaze was worshipful.
Unease snaked along Gabriel’s spine. Something was seriously off with this little toadstool, and he intended to discover exactly what.
“Good night, Don,” Margaret stated firmly. Her mom voice caused him to jump into action and scurry toward the exit.
Gabriel laughed aloud after the door closed. “Impressive. Now, let’s phone the police to get a report on record.”
Chapter 17
The holidays swept past in a blur, and Margie saw Gabriel when they could carve out time from their schedules. Mostly, in connection to Sammy’s legal troubles, since Scott and Crystal were still an item, and he refused to make time for the children.
Gabriel was only able to get Sammy’s sentence reduced to a ninety-day stay in a local mental health care facility. Brookhaven was upscale, and his friend Stephen had agreed to treat her.
But Christmas without Sammy and Michael had been a somber affair.
Earlier in the week, Gabriel invited Margie to a New Year’s celebration, but she’d declined. Once again, she had to care for the kids. Sure, she could’ve asked her mom to watch them, but because they were all still feeling Michael’s loss, Margie wanted to stay home.
Tonight, she was well into a steamy romance by her favorite historical author, Kate Bateman, when she heard the distinctive clink of a pebble against her window. A glance at her clock showed eleven-fifty-two. A second pebble collided with the glass, and she grinned.
Gabriel.
It thrilled her to think he’d left his party early to see her. Utilizing her phone app, she shut off the alarm. Butterflies danced in her belly, and she did a girly little dance right before she parted the curtains and tugged the cord for the blinds. A flick of her wrist unlocked the window, and she shoved it open. “Gabriel?”
“Margie.”
Not Gabriel.
Puzzled and more than a little weirded out, she inched the window back down. “Who’s there?”
“Margie, it’s me. Don.”
Her stomach twisted, and not in a good way. Why the hell was he outside her house, copying Gabriel’s break-Margaret-out-of-her-tower game?
“What are you doing, Don?”
“I thought you could come out to play.”
This guy was seriously becoming creepy as fuck!
“Sorry, I was just about to go to bed. I—”
Pitching his voice to mimic Gabriel’s warm, seductive tone, Don said, “I could come in and keep you company.”
Her flesh crawled, and she wasn’t sure she hadn’t thrown up a little in her mouth.
“Look, Don. I don’t know how many times I can tell you. Gabriel and I are in a relationship, and I really need you to understand I’m not interested in you that way. Don’t come here again.” She didn’t give him time to comment, and she slammed the window closed, drawing the blinds and curtains for good measure. As quickly as her trembling fingers would work, she opened the app and keyed the code. She made a dash for the light and flipped the switch, throwing the room into darkness. Tiptoeing back to the window, she held her breath and listened.
What to do? Did she call the police? Gabriel? No, not Gabriel. He was at a party, and dragging him back here to ease her fears only to have him tell her “I told you so” didn’t sit well.
Searching through her contacts, she found Jamie’s number and pressed send. She swore under her breath when her call went to voicemail.
“Hey, Jamie. It’s Margie. I’m sorry I’m ringing so late, but can you call me back?”
From inside, she heard Don jiggle the handle for the screen door. Fingertips smashing her lips to stem the instinctive scream, she eased back the blinds and p
eered out.
Don’s silhouette was visible by the glow of the pool light. Thankfully, she’d locked up earlier, but the very fact he went so far as to try to open the screen door after she specifically ordered him to leave dismayed her. What if he took it into his head to rip the screen and jimmy the lock on the slider?
She dialed Gabriel.
He picked up immediately. “Margaret! Did you change—”
“Gabriel, I’m sorry to bother you, but Jamie isn’t picking up and—”
“I’m on my way, and I’m contacting Gordie. He’s crashing at my place.”
“Wait! You don’t even know—”
“You sound scared, and you’re calling me in the middle of the night. I’m on my way.” She heard the slamming of a vehicle door and an engine hum to life. “All that remains is for you to tell me if I need to call the police.”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“What’s going on?”
“Don showed up. Gabriel, it was super strange, and he gave me the willies.”
“That peckerhead! How long ago?”
“A few minutes maybe?” She relayed the events of her conversation with Don, desperately trying to keep the tremble from her voice.
“Margaret, how sure are you that this guy is mentally all there? Is it possible he can access your alarm to get in the house?”
“You’re scaring me, Gabriel.”
“You should be scared. I don’t trust him. He hasn’t gotten it through his head that you and I are a couple.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. She hadn’t dared call them anything more than occasional lovers, but Gabriel had just laid the truth bare. “Should I call the police?”
“If you are feeling threatened or worried he’ll break in, then abso-fucking-lutely. I’m still eight minutes out.” He paused a second. “Gordie’s at the back of your house now.”
“Don’t text and drive,” she ordered absently.
Easing back the curtain, she peered between the slats of the blind. The back yard was almost pitch black, so she hurried to the living room and flipped on the floodlights. Gordon James was visible, and Don was nowhere to be seen.
Next, she checked the locks on the doors. The main panel for the alarm showed it to be armed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She peeked in on the boys, then Kaley, satisfied they were safe and still asleep.
“Margaret? You’re awfully quiet. Are you okay? Talk to me.”
“I was just double-checking everything is locked up tight.”
“Fuck!”
“What?”
“There’s a goddamn checkpoint ahead.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Nursing a single scotch over the last half hour. Nothing before that one.”
“Just be careful, Gabriel. Please.”
“Stay on the line with me, okay?”
“Okay. Should I invite your brother in? He shouldn’t have to wait outside until you get here.”
“He’s at the front door.”
Margie disengaged the alarm and swung open the door. She grabbed Gordon by the front of the shirt and hauled him inside, causing him to laugh at her manhandling.
“If this is the type of reception a man gets, coming to your house, I can see why you have an overabundance of admirers,” he quipped.
“Shut it.” She shot him a half smile to take away the sting, and secured the door. “I’m sorry you had to come out tonight.”
“No harm. I was vegging on the couch, watching a movie. So, tell me. What’s going on? Gabe said an unwanted visitor.”
She gave him the same explanation she’d given Gabriel, watching as Gordon’s scowl darkened with each word she spoke.
“I’m assuming that’s my brother?”
Margie handed Gordon the phone.
“Gabe? Yeah, man. No. Right.” He checked his watch. “No, we’re good. He seems to be gone.”
Although she could hear the deep tones of Gabriel’s voice coming through the line, Margie had a hard time understanding the words. He seemed to have a lot to say on the subject of Don, and none of it was good, based on Gordon’s raised brows and smirking lips.
His blue-gray eyes met hers, and he gestured to the phone in his hand. “Seems your boyfriend doesn’t like your stalker much.”
“Don isn’t a stalker. He—”
Gordon winced and distanced the phone from his ear. “Aannnd, you just set him off.”
Margie retrieved her cell and listened to Gabriel for a second before she disconnected.
“Did you just hang up on my brother?” Gordon’s eyes were rounded with shock and something akin to awe.
“He had a few choice things to say about my sanity. I didn’t care to hear it,” she stated primly.
He laughed and gave her a one-armed hug around the neck. “You’re perfect for him. You know that, right?”
Her phone lit up, and when she answered, the long stream of swearwords prompted her to disconnect again.
“He’s going to stroke out if you keep doing that,” Gordon warned on a laugh.
“When he can talk with some modicum of respect, then I’ll listen.”
“I can’t wait for the show to unfold when he gets here.”
Her phone lit up again, but this time, it was a sleepy Jamie on the other end. “What’s going on, sis?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry I woke you, Jamie. I thought I heard something outside. I—”
Gordon practically ripped the phone from her hand and explained to her brother what had happened. He ended with, “No, man. Gabriel’s on his way. We have it covered for now. Yeah, of course.” He pulled out his phone and programmed in Jamie’s number. “Got it. Right. Here she is.” He mouthed “sorry” as he returned her cell.
“Margie, why the hell didn’t you call the police right away?”
“My first instinct was to call Gabriel, but he wasn’t home, so I called you. I figured Don would leave if you showed up. But then you didn’t answer, and I…” The stress of the night caught up with her, and tears cut off her babbling explanation.
“Don’t cry!” Jamie sounded pained. “I’m on my way.”
“No. No n-need. Gordon’s h-here.” With a shaky hand, she swiped at the moisture on her cheeks. Gordon stepped away to allow her a minute to control her emotions. “Seriously, Jamie, I’m okay for now. I think the adrenaline is wearing off.”
“I’m going to beat that fucking asshole to within an inch of his life.”
“No, you aren’t. I intend to have a serious conversation with him one day very soon.”
“Not without Gabe or myself present, you aren’t.”
“I’ll admit, I’d feel better if one of you were.” The squeal of tires in her driveway made her wince. “I think Gabriel just arrived.”
Gordon checked the peephole and nodded, so Margie disengaged the alarm to admit his brother.
The storm cloud on Gabriel’s face said she was in for a stern lecture. “Gotta go, Jamie. Thanks for checking on me.”
* * *
Gabriel didn’t know whether to hug Margaret or shake sense into her. The tears on her face triggered his compassion, and he went for the hug. “Come here, love.”
She flew into his open arms, and he rested a cheek on the top of her silky hair, happy to confirm she was safe.
“Don’t you ever hang up on me again. Not when it’s this important.”
Pulling back, she glared up at him. “You don’t get to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling.”
“You were yelling,” Margaret and Gordon said in unison.
“Fine, maybe I was yelling a little bit. But goddammit, I was scared, okay?”
And he had been. Completely terrified that Don would take it into his head to hurt her and the kids. Until now, Margaret had labeled her pain-in-the-ass neighbor as harmless. The man was anything but. Time and again, Gabriel had seen men like Don get away with hurting women with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Their justice syst
em wasn’t designed to be fair to women.
“You need to file a police report,” he told her.
“What can they do? He basically tapped on my window and asked me to ‘come out and play.’ They’ll say he didn’t break in or hurt me in any way.”
Gabriel knew she was correct. Law enforcement would see this as tame, and on a busy New Year’s Eve, they’d more likely be irritated to be called out to Margaret’s home than anything. But it went against his nature to do nothing. “I think we should still get a report on record. I’m almost positive he’s the one who came in here and took your things.”
Margaret paled and shot an uneasy look toward her bedroom door. Apparently, she hadn’t drawn the same conclusions he had.
“I should change my alarm provider,” she said softly. “And get a restraining order.”
“Honestly, they rarely do anything to encourage a stalker to leave you alone, but it’s not a terrible idea to have one on record.”
Gordon nodded his agreement with Gabriel’s assessment. “Truth. In my industry, musicians deal with this constantly.”
“So what do I do?”
Gabriel didn’t like the shaky quality to Margaret’s voice and met his brother’s eyes over her head. With a grimace, he admitted, “I don’t know. Pray he takes a hint after we talk to him.”
Chapter 18
The moaning woke him. Easing up on one elbow, Gabriel watched Margaret as she slept.
Her face was slack with passion, and he turned more fully onto his side. Her hands clenched the folds of the comforter, and a pleasure-filled gasp escaped her lips. Clearly, she was having an erotic dream.
He grinned at the familiar sight of her desire.
She murmured something in her sleep, and he leaned closer to hear.
“Sebastian! Please, yes!”
Cold washed over Gabriel, and he couldn’t seem to recover his breath from the shock. Although they’d never spoken of love, he had believed they were on the same page. Knowing she dreamed of another man and hearing her call his name flayed Gabriel’s insides. How was he expected to push past the pain of her calling for someone else?
