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I break apart, crying out his name, the soft sound echoing around us in the quiet of the room. He
stays with me, thrusting gently, letting me ride his finger. When I open my eyes he's watching me
intently.
"That was beautiful. God damn." The hand on my cheek tightens, holding me still so that I can't
avoid his eyes. What I see there shocks me.
He looks & hungry.
When he slides his finger free, I want to cry out again at the loss. I can see him closing up right
in front of me, putting his desire back behind whatever wall he uses to keep himself so remote. It's
heartbreaking to witness after seeing him so open just a few minutes ago.
He kisses me on the forehead. Part of me wants to drag him back down for a real kiss but I can
sense that he's working through something. And I can't force him to want the same things I do.
"I have to go. I would stay and help but I need to check on something."
"You should be careful. If you want me to think you're a bad guy, you have to stop being so
nice."
Gabe gives me a crooked smile. "It's all an illusion. Lock up behind me."
"Okay, I will. Trust me, I've gotten the safety lecture from Eli a million times."
He runs his hands over his hair, taming the strands that I set in disarray while I straighten my
clothes. Then he follows me to the front of the building. At the door he pauses, taking one last look at
me before he steps over the threshold. He waits, watching until I turn the lock on the door. Then with
one final salute, he's gone.
As soon as he's out of sight, I sag against the door. My blood pressure is still high and if I
close my eyes I can still feel his fingers, his lips, his tongue. To Gabe, fooling around is just a little
fun and games but for me, it's just one more thing that pulls me in closer. Makes me forget myself. The
man is dangerous and I don't have time for dangerous.
I shake my head. "Enough daydreaming. It's time to get to work."
* * * * *
Every weekend, my sisters and I used to attack our house with cleaning rags in hand. It was
understood that chores had to be done before we could go outside and play or, once we were older,
go out with our friends. Brenna used to complain every single time and even Audra would try to
convince Mom that we could save chores for Sunday after church. Neither approach ever worked but
it didn't stop them from trying.
Strange as it sounds, I kind of enjoy cleaning. It's one of the few things you can do in life and
see instant results. So saving a few bucks by cleaning the building myself seemed like a no brainer at
the time.
Before I got started.
I've mopped the floor, cleaned the bathroom and figured I'd give myself a break from chemical
fumes by cleaning the thick layer of dust off the bookcases with a damp rag. I'm just getting started
when there's a knock at the door. I peel off the rubber gloves I'm wearing as I approach the front door.
But when I see who it is, I drop them on the floor and pull the door open with a squeal.
"Uncle Tommy!"
"Hey kid. Your Dad told me what you're doing." He pulls me into a hug and then looks around
the space. "You're really doing it, huh? I had to come by and see it. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not! Come on in." I step back and allow him inside. He pulls off his cap and walks
to the middle of the floor.
This is a great space. He points to the small counter on the left side where the previous
tenant had a small coffee bar. It looks like it s already got a lot of what you need.
"Yeah I'm going to use it for concessions."
His eyes shine as he turns in a circle. "I can't wait to see what you come up with." He looks at
the rags and cleaning supplies I've left in a pile on the floor. "But I can see you're busy. I'll get out of
the way."
"I'm so glad you came by. Dad told me you're interested in investing in this place so once I
work out the details, I'll let you know. I really want it to feel like the original club. My dad is really
excited about this."
"I am, too. You can't even imagine." He gives me another hug.
Once I get the stage built and everything is clean, I'll have to make sure he and my dad come
down to help me set up. It'll be fun for them to work on it together, the way they would have before if
things had been different.
After Uncle Tommy leaves, I pick up my gloves and rag. I stand, fighting another wave of
exhaustion. I should have just stuck with the cleaning service. I think I remember Finn mentioning that
his fiancée owns a cleaning agency. Maybe I should have just asked for a friendly discount instead of
trying to tackle all this on my own.
Another sneeze catches me off guard and leaves a burning pain in my chest and throat. I pause
with a hand over my chest. The pain settles after a minute but leaves a lingering ache of exhaustion all
through my body.
I move back a little and my foot catches on an uneven floorboard. "Whoa!" My legs buckle and
I go down hard on my bottom. The rag I was holding lands with a wet smack next to me. I roll over
slightly, moving off the uneven section of the floor. I lean closer to look at the uneven wood and then
groan. This place is starting to feel cursed.
If someone falls in here, they could sue me. I'm sure it's the landlord's responsibility to fix the
floors but how long will that take? And if I have to wait for the floors to be redone then all the
furniture that's just been delivered will have to be moved.
I sway as a strong wave of dizziness comes over me. The floor spins beneath my feet as I sit
back down and rest my head on my knees. The pain in my chest is back and it's starting to feel like my
throat is burning.
I'll just wait until this passes, I think. But I must have inhaled more of those cleaning fumes
than I thought because as soon as I close my eyes, I feel myself falling.
chapter eight
GABE
Gabriel. I wasn't expecting you today."
It's something of a shock to see my father answering the door of his own suite. He's using a
cane and looking pretty proud of himself. I know he hates to use his wheelchair but the sight of him
without it makes me nervous. As conflicted as my feelings are toward Max, I don't want anything to
happen to him.
"I called. I know I usually come on Wednesdays but something came up. I need to talk to you."
"Of course. Come in. I was just catching up on some correspondence." He steps back so I can
enter the suite. It's quiet today. Usually he has Carol or any number of other attendants hovering over
him.
"Where is everyone?"
Max grunts. "I fired them all. A man can't even walk on his own two feet without everyone
causing a ruckus."
Suddenly I understand. Carol must have tried to tell him to use the wheelchair again. "You
know, you can't just keep firing your staff. One day they're going to believe you and not come back."
Max sinks down into the couch and then rests the cane next to him. There are a few pages of
stationery and a pen on the table next to him. He picks them up.
"Somehow I don't think you came here to talk about the way I treat my staff."
"No, I didn't."
He waits patiently for me to get my thoughts together, writing something on the paper while I'm
trying to figure out how to approach him.
In all the time I've been coming to visit, I've never asked him directly why he did what he did.
Maybe because I didn't think he'd tell me or maybe because I didn't really want to know. Tank and
Finn have both said that he refuses to discuss it anyway. But it's time for me to put my personal
feelings aside. The guy following me is clearly connected to my father somehow since he's only
shown up since Max came to town.
Someone followed me today. A man I've seen hanging around here before. Is it one of your
guys?
Max suddenly looks more alert. Followed? Are you sure?
No, I m not sure." That's the most frustrating part. I can't be sure if I'm taking this out of
context or assuming the guy must be following me just because I've seen him multiple times. "But I've
seen this guy more than once. He has a scar that's hard to miss.
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