Abel: A Sabine Valley Novel

by Robert, Katee

  “No.” He walks around my chair to drop into the one across from me. He moves without any stiffness at all. Either he’s faking it well, or Abel didn’t work him over quite as thoroughly as it appeared in the amphitheater and during the aftermath.

  I sip my tea. It’s unsatisfying cold, but it’s better than sitting here with nothing in my hands while so much hurt spins out in the silence between us.

  Finally, Eli sighs. “I fucked up.”

  Of all the things I expected him to say, that doesn’t number among them. Still…this is Eli. I can’t take anything at face value. I focus on holding perfectly still. “Elaborate.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have challenged him to that second fight. I put my own feelings above the good of the faction. And then I kept fucking up by increasing the animosity between the three of us instead of trying to smooth things out to ensure Abel wouldn’t punish our people.”

  I wait, but it appears that’s all. There’s no reason for the disappointment that sinks its claws into me and rips its way through my heart. Did I really think that Eli would come and tell me that he loves me, he’s sorry for boxing me in again and again over the last five years? Of course he has his eye on the endgame and the bottom line. That’s what he should have done from the beginning.

  This is something of an olive branch, and if I’m willing to play with Abel, then I can’t turn away any resources. I stroke my thumb over the rim of my cup. “In hindsight, I’m not sure it would have made a difference. You might have handed him the faction on a silver platter, but he was already here and prepped for war. He and his brothers would have taken the compound regardless, and there would have been bloodshed. All with the same result.” Abel never would have been satisfied with only me as revenge. He always meant to take the faction back. He’s admitted as much.

  No reason for that to sting, either. After all, I’m used to coming in a far second to the faction. One way that Abel and Eli are identical. The thought almost makes me laugh, but I swallow the sound down.

  “You have so little faith in me, Harlow.”

  I hold his gaze. “I have exactly the right amount of faith, I think.”

  He doesn’t quite flinch, but he makes an involuntary movement. “I suppose I deserved that.”

  “Yes, you did.” Although I’m hardly blameless in this situation. I stayed, after all. I could have left at any time. Instead, I let the resentment grow instead of making a clean break. I stare down into my tea. “Why are you here, Eli?”

  He leans forward and clasps his hands between his knees. “I want what’s best for our people.”

  Somehow, even when I doubted everything else, I never doubted that. Of course he does. Now that he’s not reacting emotionally, he’s focusing on the only thing that matters. That should make me happy. No matter what my personal feelings are, the faction matters more. I have to remember that instead of striking out at him until he reacts to me the way he does to Abel. I didn’t even realize how much distance Eli’s held me at all this time until Abel showed up and I realized how he acts when that distance isn’t a factor. Oh, he might hate Abel right now, but their history is written all over them. The intimacy of being close friends for most of their lives.

  No reason to feel jealous of that. I’ve given up any hope of my happily ever after a year ago when I realized nothing would ever change between us. All I have left is the responsibility to the people who live in this faction. That’s it. “So do I.”

  “With that in mind, I…” He takes a slow breath. “We need to put our personal feelings aside and deal with Abel.”

  I stare at him a long moment. “Eli.” I take a breath and cling to calm with everything I have. “Please tell me that you’re not going to break your word.”

  “There’s nothing in the agreement that guarantees his safety.”

  I ignore the spike of fear that sentence brings. I don’t like Abel. I mean, I might kind of enjoy him, just a little, but he’s not a good man. No matter what promises he’s made to me, I can’t trust him beyond this year. I have to remember that. Always. “In fact, that’s exactly what the Bride agreement guarantees. Peace between our people and his for the duration of the year.”

  “Peace doesn’t mean he suffers no accidents.”

  For fuck’s sake. Eli is just proving that he hasn’t learned anything after all.

  “We talked about this. Even if you managed to do something to him, he’s got six brothers who will be howling for your blood and who will turn around and punish our people for your sins. Not to mention breaking one Bridal agreement paves the way for the other factions to do the same. They’ll crush us.”

  “The only way I’d stage another coup is if I could take all the Paine brothers out. If I do that, the other factions will have no reason to fight us. Not when their people are returned to them.”

  I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I carefully, oh so carefully, set my cup on the tea cart. It’s either that or throw it at his head. “So what you’re saying is that you haven’t learned anything at all. I want no part of whatever you’re planning.” I lean forward and meet his gaze. “You will fail, Eli. He’s too good, and his brothers and his people are too capable. And when you fail, I’ll be the one who’s forced to pick up the pieces and do damage control. Again.”

  “Damage control like fucking Abel.”

  I push to my feet. “I’m not having this conversation.”

  He drapes his arms over his chair, his expression lightly mocking. I’ve seen him with that look in his eyes more times than I can count, but never directed at me. He used to know better than to use his public persona on me. Even bracing for it, his words still lash me. “I thought you got over your knee-jerk reaction to run from things that scare you.”

  He did not just say that.

  Rage sears every last bit of control I have. I plant my hands on the arms of his chair and glare. “You don’t scare me, Eli. You’re a fool, and I’m scared of the consequences of your actions, but I am not scared of you. If you laid one hand on me, I’d cut it off, and you know it.”

  Slowly, oh so slowly, he lifts his hand and presses it to my upper chest. “Prove it.”

  I slap his hand away, but he catches my wrist. I yank, but it’s no use. Eli might be built leaner than Abel, but he’s still far too strong for me. “Let go.”

  “No.”

  Playing tug-a-war on my wrist will only hurt me. So I stop trying to pull free. “You want to know why I fucked Abel? Because it was my duty.”

  “The first time.”

  “Yeah, the first time.” Poison wells up in my throat, and despite my best efforts to swallow it back down again, it drips from my lips. “You want to know why I fucked him again? Because I am so angry at you, I wanted to hurt you so you’d finally see me. Because it didn’t fucking work, and you hurt me instead. Because when he touches me, I forget everything, and that’s what I need right now. There. Is that what you wanted to know? Do you feel better, Eli? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

  He shifts his grip and strokes my wrist with his thumb. The intimate touch nearly sends me to my knees. It’s something he’s done more times than I can count, often when we’re in a room full of people. A subtle possessive code that promises pleasure as soon as we’re alone. Five years is long enough to create an entire language of small touches and significant looks, and I hate that he’s using it on me right now.

  “Stop,” I whisper.

  The mocking light drains out of his eyes, leaving a man who might be a stranger to me. He’s nearly as cold as Abel is, his hazel eyes hold things I can only begin to guess at. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  There’s a tight, wet feeling in my chest. I yank on my arm again. I have to get out of here, because I’ll be damned before I cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve that kind of trust. Not anymore. “I don’t care.”

  “I recognize that I fucked things up. I was doing what I thought was right at the time.” He drags his thumb over my wrist again.
“I understand now that that wasn’t what you needed.”

  “Great. Congratulations. Let go.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “I love you. None of this changes that truth. And when everything is burned away and there’s nothing left, we’ll be the last ones standing. I promise you that.”

  Just like that, I stop trying to get free. “You love me? Then promise me you won’t do anything reckless. Promise me that you’ll be the leader you vowed to be when you took over this faction. Promise me that you won’t do anything to endanger our people.”

  “I promise.” He says it so easily, so smoothly, it can’t be anything but a lie. “But you’ll give me a promise in return.”

  I already know I won’t like what he’s about to say, but I can’t pretend that I won’t crawl through broken glass for the people in this faction. What can he ask of me compared to the depths I’m already prepared to go to? “What?”

  “Promise me that you’ll share my bed while you share his. We’ll switch off every other night.”

  I blink. “What?”

  “We’re not through. I don’t give a fuck if you’re riding Abel’s cock. That’s your choice, and we both have roles to play as Brides. But you will give me a chance to heal things between us.”

  A sound erupts from my lips. I’m not sure if it’s a laugh or a sob, but it makes us both flinch. I yank my hand back and, this time, Eli lets me go. “That’s not how healing works.”

  He doesn’t drop his gaze. “It is with us.”

  Is this really the worst thing he could ask of me? No, but it certainly feels like it in this moment. I trust Eli with my body, but I no longer trust him with my heart. He’ll shred me every time we touch, will cut right down to my core and leave me bleeding out. I straighten slowly. “Are you sure, Eli? After all, that would put me at sloppy thirds for you.”

  “I’m sorry.” His expression doesn’t change. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” I turn for the door, but it’s like my feet have grown roots, sinking deep into the floor and holding me captive. I can’t walk out of here without doing everything in my power to keep this faction safe and as stable as possible. I never anticipated that I’d be bargaining my heart in the process.

  But then, what worth do my heart and body hold when weighed against so many peoples’ safety?

  “You want to bargain? So be it. I’ll share your bed for the duration of this handfasting. Sex is off the table unless I decide otherwise, on a case by case basis. Satisfied?”

  “Not yet.” His lips curl into a heart-stopping smile. If only it reached his eyes. “But I will be.”

  17

  Abel

  Old Town is almost exactly the same as it was eight years ago. It’s not surprising, exactly, not when the entire point of Old Town is that is doesn’t change. The shops line a street so narrow, it’s been closed to vehicle traffic since before I was born. They’ve stretched banners from rooftop to rooftop over the street, creating a breezeway of sorts. It keeps the worst of the heat out in the summer and the rain and snow the rest of the time.

  I stand at the entrance and inhale slowly. This is the second test of being back. No matter what the other factions think or what happened during Lammas, if the people here don’t fall into line, our return will be short-lived.

  We only have one chance.

  Cohen stands at my back with Maddox and Iris flanking him. They’re all dressed in black and look forbidding, though Iris is drinking in the sight of the street in a way that tells me she’ll be peppering Finnegan with questions when she gets back to the compound. She’s a white woman with long, dark hair that she’s got pulled back from her face in a low braid. Iris isn’t a Sabine Valley native; we picked her up a few years ago as we were passing through New York. Good girl. Deadly with a knife, and even more so with a shotgun. Like a fucking artist. She’s got one in the scabbard strapped to her back, and despite what should be an awkward position, I’ve seen her draw it faster than some people can draw a handgun.

  Maddox is a white guy with blond hair and the kind of good looks that would have him competing with any of the legion of blond actors Hollywood likes to employ. He’s another transplant, this time from Chicago, and he and Cohen have been friends who occasionally are more for a few years now. He’s only the second guy my brother has trusted enough to let into his bed on a semi-regular basis, which is saying something. He’s also just as deadly as Cohen is.

  Between the three of them, they are more than capable of watching our back.

  Eli and Harlow flank me on either side. He’s in slacks and a light-gray button-down shirt and looks like he just walked out of a board meeting. He’s done something to his hair to give it a bit of a wave, and the only marring of his perfection is the bruising around his eye. Even that doesn’t really detract. It simply highlights the height of his cheekbones and the curve of his lips. Eli looks like a fallen angel, and it makes me want to prod at him until the illusion of perfection shatters.

  Harlow’s changed into a flirty red dress that makes her tits look amazing and flares out around her thighs. She’s got on black boots and a leather jacket to combat the chill in the air, and she’s left her hair down. Her makeup is understated, with the exception of the bright red lips that perfectly match the dress. She catches me looking and lifts her brows, a silent challenge, but she’s holding herself more tightly than the last time I saw her. Something happened today, either with the Brides or after. I’ll have to get her to tell me about it once this is over.

  “Behave, you two.”

  Harlow gives a tight nod. Eli just smiles slowly. “Of course.”

  He’s up to something, but I knew that from the moment he said he’d play nice and then hit his knees to suck my cock. I can’t afford to react, not when he’s no doubt thinking three steps ahead. I have to anticipate his plans and cut them off before he can move forward with them. Either way, it won’t happen this afternoon. He hasn’t had enough time to plan, and no matter how fucked up his relationship is with Harlow, I don’t believe he’ll do something to put her in danger. He won’t risk calling my bluff on it.

  At least, he better fucking not.

  I turn and look back down the street. This time of day, there should be a decent amount of foot traffic, but it’s almost deserted. I start moving, conscious of Harlow and Eli falling into step behind me on either side. I’d feel better having Harlow between me and Eli, but that’s the very reason I don’t put her there. I won’t do anything to let him know I register him as a larger threat than I already have.

  There are a couple ways to play this, but I have to maintain a position of power. Walking door to door to talk to the owners of the shops lining Old Town isn’t the way to go. Instead, I lead us down to the courtyard about halfway through the street. It used to be a four-way stop, but it’s been given the same treatment as the rest of the street. There are banners filtering the light and protecting from the weather, and someone’s dug up parts of the street to plant some carefully curated greenery. Tables and chairs provide outdoor seating for the scattering of restaurants in the area. There is also a trio of food trucks set up in the dead end that’s been blocked off.

  I sit on one of the picnic tables and prop my elbows on my knees. “Round them up. They dig in their heels, leave them be. I don’t need everyone. Word will spread either way.”

  Cohen nods and motions to Maddox and Iris. They head back the way we came and split, ducking into three separate businesses. I keep one eye on them and the rest of my attention on the area immediately surrounding us.

  Harlow props a hip on the table next to me. “You’ve got some balls of steel to summon them like a king. They don’t like it. That’s now how things work around here.”

  “It’s how things work now. They’ll learn to live with it.” I speak without looking at her. “This will save wasted time on both sides.”

  “Not how I’d play it,” Eli murmurs.

  I shoot him a lo
ok. “You’d smile and come, hat in hand, door to door to tell them how grateful you are for their support and make all sorts of promises.”

  “That’s exactly what he did.” Harlow doesn’t raise her voice, doesn’t look at Eli. Her tone is remarkably devoid of any emotion, which tells me the source of her disquiet. As far as I know, Eli didn’t leave his room from the moment Cohen marched him back in there earlier, and Harlow didn’t go to him, but they must have communicated somehow.

  A mystery to deal with later.

  It takes Cohen and his group twenty minutes to hit every business on the street. People come out in ones and twos. I have files on all of them. The Rodriguez family who run the textile businesses. The Smiths, owners of the market and two of the restaurants, each run by one of the Smith siblings. The Phan family, clustered around their patriarch, Chinh. They handle weddings, funerals, and everything in between. All of them have been here for generations, since well before my grandfather’s time.

  Not everyone shows up, but I don’t expect them to. These families will take the news back to the others, and Old Town will decide whether it wants to dig in its heels or roll with the new wave of things.

  I wait another minute, giving them time to settle. When I speak, I very intentionally don’t lift my voice, though I project it to everyone here. “You know me. You know why I’m back. I’ve won this faction by the laws of Lammas, and I fully intend to reclaim my rightful role. I have no interest in fucking with you. Tithes won’t change. My people will ensure that everyone behaves and no one bothers you.”

  Chinh moves forward. He’s a short Vietnamese man with a shock of white hair and a lifetime’s worth of laugh lines on his face. He looks like a kindly grandpa—he used to slip peppermint candy to me and my brothers when we were kids—but underestimating him would be a mistake. He has influence with more than just his family here; he’s arguably as powerful as Eli was before I took his seat.