A Love of Vengeance

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A Love of Vengeance Page 17

by Nancy Haviland


  She was furious that she wanted to be with him again.

  She sighed. Had he been upset when she hadn’t come back out of the restroom? Would he be understanding when she told him she was quitting? She bit her lip. She’d go in tomorrow morning. Get her phone and tell him she wasn’t going to work for him after all.

  At least she’d be able to see him one last time.

  Her gaze settled on a photograph of her and her mother sitting on the top of her dresser. Closing her eyes to the sight of it, to the reminder of the damage Gabriel could cause her, Eva clasped her hands in her lap and hung her head, fear of the unknown giving her a chill.

  She didn’t want to give him up yet, she realized. After everything, she just didn’t want to let him go. Not yet.

  What was wrong with her? How could she feel like that?

  Was this how her mother had felt about her father?

  Eva’s head whipped toward the door at the sound of shattering glass. Heart racing, she stood and kicked off her shoes before tiptoeing from the room. She crept along the wall, wondering if some kid had thrown a baseball. Or maybe a rock. Fear crowded in, sickening her stomach as thoughts of intimidating mafioso and undelivered messages tumbled through her mind.

  She froze at the sight of a man, his dark hair cut in a Mohawk, already halfway up the stairs.

  Move, Eva!

  She spun around, intending to run to the bathroom because it was the only door with a lock on it, but the intruder threw himself up the remaining stairs and grabbed her ankle.

  The momentum sent her crashing hard to the floor, her cheek smacking painfully on the solid surface. She kicked wildly, and her heel connected with what she was sure was his jaw, but the slim-fitting skirt of her dress didn’t allow for much movement and she was soon being yanked across the slippery hardwood.

  “Settle the fuck down, kitty,” he gritted out. “Or I can make you very sorry.”

  When she stilled, he released his grip on her, allowing her to crab-walk back to the wall to put some distance between them.

  “Wh-what do you w-want?” she asked, voice shaking.

  He rubbed at his jaw for a second and then focused on her. “Stay away from Gabriel.”

  Wait. What? Not “Give me your money and jewelry” but “Stay away from Gabriel”? She blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “You don’t have to understand. The boss wants you to stay away, you stay away. Gabe isn’t who you think he is.”

  Gabe? The boss? “Gabriel is your boss?” she asked stupidly.

  He scoffed. “He fuckin’ wishes. This is the only warning you’re gonna get, little kitty. Listen to it.” He raked down her body with a hungry look that made her shrink back, but nothing came of it when he simply turned and headed down the stairs.

  He opened the front door and glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t call the cops. They can’t help you.” Reaching into the front pocket of his black pants, he withdrew a surprisingly large wad of cash. Peeling off two bills, he dropped them to the floor. “For the window,” he told her before he walked out.

  Painful tears pushed into Eva’s eyes but she rapidly blinked them away, too afraid to have her vision impaired in case he returned. She forced herself to grab the stair railing to pull herself up. She needed to close the still wide-open front door. With her teeth chattering, she moved carefully down the steps on legs she couldn’t feel.

  What did she do now? He’d said not to call the police, but what could he possibly do to her if she did? The answer was simple.

  He could come back.

  Caleb! She could call Caleb. He’d know what to do. He’d told her before she left New York that if she needed anything she should call the number he’d given her and one of his Seattle brothers would come right away.

  But she’d programmed that number, and Caleb’s new pre-paid into her cell without memorizing them. She didn’t have her cell!

  Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she winced as glass shards bit into the soles of her bare feet. She slammed the door shut and locked it with barely working fingers, her eyes widening when she saw that the man had damaged the alarm pad so badly it most definitely needed replacing. What had he meant by Gabriel not being who she thought he was?

  She stepped back and lifted one foot to swipe away the glass, then did the same with the other. She hissed as a jagged shard that was embedded in her heel cut into her palm, and then cursed as she pulled it out to drop it on the floor.

  She went to the phone and had just picked it up to try Nika again when she heard breaks squealing outside. Anxiety pulsed through her veins.

  Had the man returned?

  A loud pounding on the door had her dropping the phone as a sharp scream squeezed from her throat.

  “Eva! Open up!”

  Gabriel.

  Thoughts splintering, she leaned to the side and looked through the broken window to see that big body she’d know anywhere. In seconds, she had the door flung open and was flying into his waiting arms.

  The terror on Eva’s face, coupled with the smear of blood on her cheek, went through Gabriel like a bullet. With one quick scan, he took in the trashed alarm and broken window, which explained the glass littering the floor. His lip curled up in a feral snarl when he saw two crisp Benjamins among the mess.

  “What happened?” he demanded as he scooped her up and moved into the house, closing the door behind them.

  “A m-m-man broke i-in . . .” She pressed her face into his neck.

  A wild, beastlike emotion tried to rip its way out of Gabriel’s chest, screaming in fury because he hadn’t been there to protect this woman who was his responsibility.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair. “Tell me he didn’t hurt you. Please.” She shook her head, and he closed his eyes in relief. He held her, running his hand up and down her back in soothing strokes, the pads of his fingers skipping through each ridge in her spine, loathing, fucking loathing, the tremors he could feel slowly fading from her body. How could he want to strangle her slender neck and comfort her at the same time? She should never have left the office without telling him!

  After that fierce look she’d leveled at him before disappearing into the restroom, one that hadn’t sat well with him, he’d waited only a minute or two before checking on her, but she’d been gone. He and Quan had tracked her with the GPS they’d installed on her car before she’d arrived home from New York. Thank God he’d had the foresight to, again, invade her privacy with that little piece of technology, otherwise they might not have found her so quickly.

  “Where is the blood coming from, sweetheart?”

  “I . . . the g-glass . . .” she stammered.

  He looked down and caught the drip of crimson liquid as it ran off the fingers of her left hand. And she was barefoot. Sonofabitch. He scooped her into his arms, his shoes crunching over the debris as he quickly moved down the hall.

  After bashing the light switch on the kitchen wall, he stalked over to deposit her on the counter next to the sink. The sight of her bleeding was making him want to lose his shit.

  “Towels.”

  She pointed to a drawer behind him. He pulled it open and grabbed a handful of white terry cloth. After tearing one in half, he tied it around her dripping palm.

  “Keep that elevated,” he ordered, reaching for her feet and bandaging them as well.

  Gritting his teeth, he glanced up to see her staring at him warily, clearly trying to pull herself together. But that wasn’t all he saw. He brought his hand up to her reddened cheek, hissing in fury when she winced, ducking away from his touch.

  “I will kill whoever did this to you,” he vowed, never more serious in all his life. “I will kill him with my bare hands. I promise you.”

  With a start, she grabbed his forearm, her nails digging in as she crowded into him. He understood her reaction had nothing to do with his vicious pr
omise, but was because the front door had just opened. He flicked the snap with the bottom of his shoe to free the pistol on his ankle.

  “He’s back,” Eva whispered, just before Quan appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her pent-up sigh was followed by a quietly relieved, “Oh, shit.”

  “Gone,” Quan said. Which, translated, meant Eva’s neighbor, Nick, was dead.

  Fuck. Fuck! “Did you call the boys?” he gritted out. No matter how many times it happened, losing a man who worked for him, even though they knew the risks, was a blow Gabriel felt right to his soul. Nick had technically been hired and placed by Vasily, but Gabriel still felt responsible.

  “Of course. They’ll take care of him,” Quan reassured him before turning to Eva. “Hey, pretty lady. Bit of action in the crib tonight?”

  Quan kept his tone easy, but Gabriel had seen his friend’s features harden when he saw Eva’s injuries.

  She nodded as Quan handed over a small black bag, which Gabriel opened to reveal basic medical supplies.

  Eva narrowed her eyes. “Oh, so you’re a doctor as well as a CEO. Wow. You’re just full of surprises.”

  Hearing the spark in her tone was music to his ears, and Gabriel would have smiled had the circumstances been different. Stefano’s goon had scared her but not broken her. She still had that same feisty spirit. “No, sweetheart. I’m not a doctor, but I do know how to administer a painkiller.”

  She stared a moment longer, then finally said, “Stop calling me that. And I don’t need a painkiller.”

  “Not right now you don’t, but once the adrenaline leaves your system, you might.”

  “Then I’ll take some Tylenol. How are you here right now, Gabriel?”

  He eyed the stainless steel refrigerator and wished he could give it a right hook. No, it wasn’t enough for Eva that he’d shown up. She wanted to know why he’d shown up unexpectedly. Man, she was her father’s daughter all right.

  “You left the office without a word, and I was concerned. You looked upset when you went into the restroom.” He dug her phone out of his jacket inside pocket and placed it next to her leg. “You also left your phone on your desk.”

  “Oh.”

  Had his explanation sounded too reasonable?

  “Well, thank you.”

  “Welcome.” He looked back at Quan. “Clean up the broken glass from the window and then go upstairs and pack her a bag.”

  “Wait. What? Why do I need a bag packed?” Eva questioned, straightening from the exhausted slump she’d settled into.

  “I’m bringing you back to the hotel—”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “—until it’s safe for you to return home,” he finished as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll have someone come in and repair—”

  “I can call someone myself.”

  “—the door,” he ground out. “In the meantime, we’ll—”

  “No.”

  And if there was anything bound to set Gabriel off, it was being interrupted. He. Fucking. Hated. That.

  Without another attempted word, he slammed the towel he held into the sink and stormed out.

  Ten minutes later, after having gone upstairs to pack two suitcases himself, he returned to the kitchen a little calmer. He’d decided the right thing to do would be to offer Eva a compromise. She could call Nika and see if her friend would put her up for the night, and he would pray the redhead said no for some reason. He didn’t care what the reason was at this point; he just wanted Eva to be stuck. For him to be her only option. He wanted her in the suite. With him. Where he could keep her safe.

  But he wanted her to agree to come on her own. He didn’t want her hating him when this mess with Stefano was over, so no sense appearing overcontrolling by forcing her. And while there was no denying the attraction they shared—that she was desperately trying to appear indifferent to—it still wasn’t enough to keep her from turning on him and kicking his ass out the door.

  The fucking ice he walked on seemed to get thinner and thinner as the day wore on.

  He couldn’t believe the effect she was having on him. Any other woman he’d have just thrown her over his shoulder and dragged her protesting ass out caveman-style. But now . . .

  He wanted Eva to want to be with him.

  Fuck.

  Not finding her on the counter, Gabriel looked to the dinette to see her sitting across from Quan, cell resting in her palm, her dark head bowed, silky hair hiding her face.

  “You can call your friend,” he said begrudgingly. “The one I met last night.”

  “I tried. She didn’t pick up.”

  He barely refrained from fist pumping the air like the Giants had just won the Super Bowl.

  “Try again,” he offered, feeling generous now.

  “That’s okay,” she mumbled.

  “It’s only past eight, do you think she’s out for the night?” Why was he pressing this? He was about to get what he wanted. Eva at his home.

  She shrugged but didn’t look at him. As she traced the outline of her cell, her finger had a barely perceptible tremble, but he saw it.

  Yes. He was about to get what he wanted. But he was now realizing that what Eva wanted was more important.

  She wanted her friend. She wanted the familiar. She was in a terrifying situation, had shit coming at her from every angle, and her only option was a man she was angry with. A man who’d lied to her. A man who was still lying to her, by omission, only she didn’t know it yet.

  Holy Christ.

  He rubbed at the burn behind his sternum. Goddammit, why couldn’t he hand her care over to Alek and be done with it? He’d have handled all of this with much more aplomb.

  Because Vasily came to you with this assignment. Not Alek.

  True.

  And, if he were being honest, had Vasily called and told him he could hand her off, would he?

  Fuck, no. Eva had given herself to him last night. Had gifted him with her innocence and her trust. And, despite all the reasons he shouldn’t, he wanted to keep her as long as he was able.

  Eva looked away from the blaze of possession darkening the green in Gabriel’s eyes. She didn’t want him looking at her like that. As if she were his. She didn’t want to feel as if she were his.

  She ran her finger over the screen on her phone, tempted to try Nika’s cell again. But she didn’t want to appear any kookier than she already did to Quan, who’d only minutes ago sat there quietly watching her frantically redial Nika’s number almost a dozen times. Until Gabriel had come back from his time-out.

  Why had he done that? Stormed out in the middle of their conversation. Because he’d been angry that she wasn’t following his orders?

  Quan had neither confirmed nor denied her suspicion. Which was another thing she liked about him—he didn’t talk about Gabriel behind his back. Instead of gossiping, he’d helped her from the counter and over to the table, saying she might as well get comfortable.

  Now she had to eat crow and accept Gabriel’s offer to stay at the hotel. She didn’t have a choice in the matter. She wasn’t stupid enough to insist on staying here with that man on the loose and a broken window and busted alarm system allowing easy entry into her home. She shuddered and closed her eyes.

  She had to ask Gabriel what the intruder’s warning meant. There was no doubt in her mind that he could offer some insight, since he was clearly involved.

  But she was afraid of what the truth might mean. Where the hell would she go if Gabriel’s home was no longer an option? At least he didn’t seem as though he was out to physically harm her.

  Yes, she’d been royally pissed today when she’d found out he’d lied about being her boss. And while his deception still stung, it was hard to hold a grudge when he was here seeing to her safety.

  Helping her not feel so damn completely alone in the world.

  “Eva? I’d like you to come stay at the hotel because it’s the safest place for you. You
must see that, sweetheart.”

  She raised her head from where she’d rested it on her folded forearms, her stupid heart thumping happily at that endearment. “Okay.”

  “There just isn’t—What?”

  She hid a smile. “I said okay. I’m not an idiot, Gabriel. And I’m not going to endanger myself by being stubborn. Since Nika isn’t picking up, and I’m certainly not going to panic my mother’s friends by calling them and telling them about this, you’re it.” She dragged herself to her tender feet and laughed in a tight burst. “God, that’s pathetic, isn’t it?”

  Quan got up from the table. He reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed the dustpan before leaving the room, offering them some privacy.

  “If we were in New York, would you have more options?” Gabriel asked as he skimmed his thumb over her mildly throbbing cheekbone.

  She nodded. “Sure. I would call Caleb. If for some reason he wasn’t around, I’d call one of my friends from school.”

  “It’s all in the circumstances. You’ve been back in Seattle for days, after being gone for years. It isn’t surprising that your ties here have weakened.” His voice was careful and softer than she’d ever heard it. She must really be shaken, because she put up no fight whatsoever when he drew her against his hard chest and slowly rubbed her back. “Can you tell me exactly what happened earlier?”

  “Can we leave? I want to get out of here. I’ll tell you at the hotel. Where I want my own room, by the way,” she added, regretfully pulling out of his comforting embrace.

  “No.”

  The flatly stated refusal set her teeth on edge. “Listen—”

  He came down, grasping her chin and invading her personal space as if it were an extension of his own. “No. You listen to me. I’ve allowed you more concessions than I’ve ever allowed another. You’ve refused my offer of help, talked back to me like no one has done since I was a teenager, walked out on me, interrupted me too many times to count. All of that ends now. You will do as I say until this shit is over. And you will do it from my suite where I can guarantee your safety. Do you understand me?”

 

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