Abel: A Sabine Valley Novel

by Robert, Katee

  “Harlow—”

  But I’m done. We can talk ourselves in circles until the end of time, but I can’t afford to be distracted from the thing that truly matters. The people of Raider faction. “If you really care about this faction, you should try to actually work with Abel.”

  Instantly, his expression closes down. “We’re not talking about Abel.”

  “We can’t talk about us without him. Not anymore. I would think last night made that startlingly clear.” Slowly, hesitatingly, I press my hands to his wet chest. It doesn’t matter how much we hurt each other; I still want Eli. I can’t seem to stop wanting Eli. My life would be so much simpler if I were able to walk away from this man. “You need to talk to him, Eli. Really talk to him. He might never forgive you for everything that happened that night, but the least you could do is explain your side of things.”

  He stares at the spot where I touch him. “It doesn’t matter what my side of things are, and you know it. Weren’t you just telling me that intentions don’t mean a single damn thing? Forty innocent people died, Harlow. That’s unforgivable.”

  I don’t disagree, but he’s not the one who made that call. “You didn’t even know about the house fire, not until after the fact. If you just—”

  He kisses me before I can continue. A soft press of his lips against mine, barely long enough to register. Eli lifts his head. “Some things can’t be fixed. We can only go forward.”

  Something akin to fear blossoms in my chest. The way he says that… I can’t shake the feeling that he’s not talking about the coup eight years ago. He’s talking about something much closer to home. I reach up and dig my hands into his hair, tugging until he lowers his head and meets my eyes. “What have you done?”

  “Nothing.” I can’t exhale in relief, because he follows it up with, “Yet.” Eli’s speaking so low, it’s almost lost in the sound of the water hitting the tile. “I’ve already sold my soul for this faction, Harlow. I can’t let all those sacrifices be for nothing.”

  Gods, he makes me want cry. To scream. To shake him until he gets the concept of a compromise. “Do I need to explain the sunk cost fallacy to you? The past doesn’t have to define you.”

  “I wish it were that easy.” He kisses me again before I can keep arguing.

  I should shove him back, should drag him out of the bathroom to talk to Abel, should do a lot of things. Instead, I let him kiss me with everything he has. I open for him, providing the escape he’s silently asking me for. He shifts forward, pressing me hard against the tile, and the contrasting sensation between his warm body and the coldness at my back has me moaning.

  Eli steps back just enough to spin me around, and then he’s bracketing my throat with one hand and sliding the other between my thighs to cup my pussy. His low voice in my ear hardly sounds like the man I’ve shared the last five years with. “Do you really think it’s that easy, Harlow? We have a conversation and all the sins of the past are forgiven?” He bites my shoulder hard enough to make me jump and then shoves two fingers into me.

  It feels like he’s possessing me, like he’s owning me. I don’t know if I hate it or crave more. I can’t think past the feel of him, the pleasure of him slowly fucking me with his fingers, dragging the heel of his palm over my clit in the same rhythm. Fuck, that feels good. My eyes threaten to flutter closed, but I can’t lose the thread of this conversation. “Why not? The only rules are the ones we make.”

  His chuckle almost sounds like a curse. “And what happens then? Do we live in a happy little throuple until we’re old and gray? Since when do you chase fantasies like that?”

  I don’t. I never have. I never will. But it still hurts for him to demolish the possibility of that future before I even allowed myself to contemplate it. I press my palms to the tile, arching back against him. His cock is a hard length at my ass, and the feeling has me moaning nearly as much as his hand playing with my pussy. I try to focus, to gasp out the words that need to be said. “Better to strive for that than to become your father—old and angry and alone until the day he died.”

  Eli freezes, and for one delirious moment, I’m sure I’ve gone too far.

  But then he drags me to the bench and sits down on it, pulling me astride him. “You’re so fucking mean now, Harlow.” His hazel eyes have a light in them I’ve never seen before. He looks downright feral. “Why do I like that so much?”

  I wrap my fist around his cock and position him at my entrance. I’m so wet, I slide down his length with barely a hitch. The full sensation steals my breath, but we’re finally sharing a degree of honesty, and I’m not about to stop now. “Because we’re not lying to each other anymore.” I start riding him. The tile bites my knees, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m too intent on my pleasure. “Because, after five years, you’re finally seeing me.”

  He might be right. It might be too little, too late. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. We’re well off the map and in uncharted territory. Here be monsters and all that. I don’t know what the future holds for us.

  Perversely, that knowledge slows me down, until I’m barely moving on his cock. He’s got his hands on my hips, but he doesn’t seem interested in rushing this, either. Eli leans back against the wall, and though his gaze skates over my body, it’s my face he lingers on. As if trying to memorize this moment, this vulnerability between us. This truth.

  Pleasure builds in slow waves, cresting higher and higher despite our pace. I start to close my eyes, but Eli moves one hand to cup my face and shakes his head. “No. Stay with me, Harlow.”

  The one command I’m not sure I can fulfill. Not when we have so much stacked against us. “I’ll try,” I whisper. In this moment, I’m not sure if I’m lying or simply wishing on a future that will never come. It doesn’t matter.

  I try to hold out, to slow down further, but we’ve gone too far. My body goes tight and hot, and then I’m grinding down on his cock, chasing an orgasm that has white spots dancing across my vision. It’s so good, it hurts. Or maybe I’m just always hurting with Eli.

  He pounds up into me, chasing his own pleasure. When he comes, he says my name almost like a curse. I start to climb off him, but he wraps his arms around me, loosely holding me in place. “Just give me a minute.”

  I should probably fight this; the feeling of being held by Eli is almost too sweet to bear. The feeling of time slipping through my fingers, faster and faster, shoving us toward some inevitable end… It keeps me in place. I don’t want this to end. It doesn’t seem to matter that we already have ended. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him as our breathing slowly evens out. An act somehow just as intimate as sex; maybe more so.

  My ability to keep a healthy distance falters with every moment that passes. The wall I’ve painstakingly built around my heart crumbles a little more after each interaction with these men. If I were smart, I’d say to hell with keeping my word and run. Just flee into the unknown and take my chances in another city with another set of people. Anything but kneeling at their feet, bowing my head, and hoping neither Eli nor Abel swings the sword that will end me. Not physically, never that, but a sword cuts through a heart as easily as a neck.

  I’m suddenly sure that mine won’t survive the year.

  24

  Abel

  For eight long years, my plan has been simple. Survive. Return to take my rightful place as faction leader. Make Eli pay for all the pain and suffering he’s caused me and mine. There is absolutely no reason that last night should have changed anything. Sex is sex is sex. Yeah, we put aside our fucked up past to take care of Harlow, but that’s the only reason we were on the same page, and even then it didn’t last past the moment we all felt into an exhausted pile and slipped into sleep.

  The first thing Harlow did upon waking was flee.

  The first thing Eli did was chase her.

  Both expected things, as long as I don’t fall into the trap of assuming that all the orgasms and pleasure meant something. It obviously d
idn’t to them. It shouldn’t have to me, either.

  But then, my rules have always been frustratingly flexible when it comes to Eli. Why should heartbreak, betrayal, and eight years of grief change that? It pisses me off so much, I can barely breathe past the rage. Last night is a glimpse of what we could have been. A future that he set on fire right along with my childhood home.

  The bathroom door opens, and Harlow strides out, stopping short when she sees me awake. She looks frazzled. She hasn’t taken the time to dry her hair, and she’s got that too-wide look around her eyes that says she and Eli had another altercation.

  I sit up. “Hey.”

  She glances back at the bathroom and lowers her voice. “I’m going to change and then go check on a few things. I…” Harlow takes a deep breath and marches to the bed. She hesitates and then reaches out and takes my hand. “Abel, could you talk to him? Actually talk, not just posture and threaten and end up with his mouth around your cock again?”

  I have to fight for an arrogant grin. “Why bother, when I love him sucking me off so much?” Despite my best efforts, the words fall flat.

  “Abel…” She gives me a small smile, though her eyes are sad. “If you two ever managed to work together, you’d be unstoppable.” She frames my face with her hands, leans down, and presses a light kiss to my lips. The casual intimacy shocks me as much as her words.

  I capture her wrists in a loose grip, holding her touch to me. “You’re asking for the moon, sweetheart. No matter if it would be a good thing or not.”

  Another of those achingly sweet kisses. “If anyone can get me the moon, it’s you. At least think about it. Please?”

  It’s not as if part of me has already been considering future possibilities. Not forgiveness. I don’t know if it’s in me to forgive Eli, and he obviously doesn’t crave that from me. But I haven’t been able to get what Harlow said yesterday out of my head. The policies Eli’s put in place, the very same fucking ones that we planned together all those years ago.

  I want to know why, if his goals were always the same as mine, he did what he did. I want fucking answers. I don’t know what I’ll do with them, having spent eight years telling myself that they don’t matter because I’m going to set the scales right. But I want them all the same.

  Am I actually considering this?

  I finally release Harlow. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you.” She turns away and walks to the closet, disappearing inside. A few short minutes later, she returns. She’s wearing jeans and a tank top and has pulled her hair back into a ponytail. It strikes me that she still has clothes in this room even if she’s moved most of her stuff down the hall. She gives me a faint smile. “Is there anything specific you need from me today?”

  No, but I don’t like the thought of not seeing her until tonight. “Check in on Fallon and Monroe.”

  “That’s where I’m headed now.” She makes a face. “How are you going to play things in the long run with them? They both have jobs and responsibilities in their respective factions.”

  A reality I was hoping to put off for a bit longer. “After you talk to them, we’ll figure it out. Feel free to negotiate on my behalf.”

  Surprise flares in her eyes, quickly followed by a warmth that I crave the same way I crave dawn’s light after a particularly brutal night. “You trust me enough to give me that power?”

  “I trust that you and I are in line with wanting the best for the faction.” Which isn’t quite the same thing as trusting her entirely. But it’s still a huge admission. “Do what you need to do.”

  Harlow opens her mouth, seems to consider what she’s about to say, and finally nods. “Thank you.” She reaches for the door. “See you tonight?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight.” I don’t imagine the pleased look on her face as she leaves the room.

  I don’t get a chance to enjoy the knowledge that I pulled Harlow out of her head, because Eli chooses that moment to pad naked into the room. His skin is still damp from the shower, and he’s slicked his hair back from his face. Without the pretty-boy blond waves, his features are almost too perfect. He looks like a sculptor crafted the high arch of his cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw, the sensual curve of his lips. It pisses me the fuck off.

  He sees me and stops. “Last night changes nothing.”

  “Agreed.” But I can’t get Harlow’s request out of my head. I can’t imagine a future where I trust Eli at my back the way I once did, but there are questions still churning in my gut that only he has the answers to. I almost snort. Turns out Harlow is right, after all. We do need to talk.

  I shove the sheet off and climb to my feet. “Let’s find some coffee. It’s about time we had a conversation.”

  Eli disappears into the closet and returns a few minutes later with jeans and a white T-shirt. The simplicity of the clothes does nothing to detract from his attractiveness. Or maybe I’m just getting sidelined because now I know how he tastes. A distraction I can’t afford, but a necessary one. The only real way to neutralize Eli would be to kill him, and I’m not ready to take that step.

  The longer we spend together, the clearer it becomes that I’ll never be ready to take that step.

  We stop in Harlow’s room so I can change clothes and then head down to the kitchen. I checked it out the first day here, and I’m reluctantly impressed all over again by how well outfitted it is. It’s commercial grade and commercial size. There was a chef and with two assistants on staff to take care of all the meals for everyone in the house—and another team that handled only the barracks—but we haven’t replaced them yet. Poison would be a great way to remove the threat we represent, and my people are the only ones I trust.

  We haven’t had the luxury of keeping a chef on staff, not when we’ve been more or less on the move since we left Sabine Valley. We’d settle for a few months, or even a year, but something always happened, and we always had to move again. Even if we’d landed in one place, it wouldn’t be home the way Sabine Valley is.

  There’s coffee made, but from the thickness of the liquid, either it’s been there overnight or that someone let Donovan brew it. I shake my head and dump it down the sink, pause to wash the pot, and then start the process for a new round of coffee.

  Once it begins dripping, I turn to face Eli. He’s got his carefully neutral expression in place, and he leans against the counter across from me. “I see Harlow got to you.”

  I shrug. “She’s tired of being the bone between us. Or the bridge. No matter which way you spin it, it’s not fair to her.”

  “Agreed.”

  I wait, but he doesn’t seem inclined to continue. Fine. The agreement, the fact that he’s here—it will have to be enough. I take a moment to look around the kitchen. All the stainless steel surfaces shine, the tile below our feet barely scuffed by so much foot traffic. It’s like the rest of the house. High-end and yet comfortable and practical. “You know, when we were younger, we talked a lot about how we’d fortify a place.”

  Eli’s expression goes perfectly blank. “Did we?”

  “Did you think I’d forget?” Honestly, I had. Our plans for the faction always took the forefront in my mind. We went over them time and time again, finessing them to the smallest detail, considering different paths to get to the same result.

  Talking about the home we’d someday build for our people was more of a footnote. One I forgot until yesterday, when the mystery of how Eli managed to upset Harlow had the memory flickering in the back of my mind.

  I walk from one end of the kitchen to the other, measuring it with my steps. “Especially when so many of these rooms don’t line up the way they should.” He’s not reacting, but that’s as much as an admission when it comes to Eli. “It’s not mapped out the way we planned, but the basic details are the same.”

  “There isn’t a question in there.”

  “No, there isn’t.” I already know he won’t show me any of the entrances to the passageways,
but that’s fine. I’ll figure them out on my own. It’s more the fact they exist at all that fucks with my head. “Harlow lined out the things she won’t compromise on yesterday.” He doesn’t respond, but I don’t need him to, not when I’m watching him so closely. “A food program so no one goes hungry. A concentrated effort to shut down violent crime against people who can’t defend themselves. Imagine my surprise at how familiar that shit sounded.”

  Still his expression doesn’t change. “You have a point.”

  “Yeah, I have a fucking point.” The sudden desire to cut through all the bullshit and find out the truth nearly overwhelms me. I cross my arms over my chest and stare. “I doubted the intel I had on you. It doesn’t make any fucking sense. We had plans together for this faction, for how to change things. When you betrayed me, I figured it was all bullshit, that you just wanted the power for yourself. But then I find out that you went ahead and implemented most of them. Why the fuck would you do that? Why would you do any of it?”

  Eli sighs and looks away. “They were good plans.”

  “Yeah, they were.” It feels like there’s a knife in my heart, the blade scraping against muscle and rib bones with every word. “Did you really think I had to be dead to make them happen?”

  “I…” He scrubs a hand over his face. “The past is the past. We both have plenty of sins to lay at our feet. What the hell does rehashing this accomplish?”

  I don’t know, but the fact he’s dodging this question means I need to hear the answer. “Indulge me.”

  “Nothing I can say will make a difference, Abel. Not a single damn thing. If I tell you that I had no idea my father was going to set fire to the house, you won’t believe me. If I tell you that I lost no sleep over your father’s death but that I’m still haunted by those forty people, you’ll call me a liar.”