“Outside. In the car. Now.”
She shakes her head and I gesture to Rafa who puts his gun away and steps forward to take her to the car.
I brought Rafa on purpose. I want to be sure she’s clear that there’s nothing nice about my cousin.
Rafa takes hold of her arm. “Let’s go,” he tells her, his voice slightly less harsh than mine.
“No!” she tugs against him, taking hold of the back of a nearby chair.
Alex turns, points his gun at Rafa.
“She said no. Get your hand off her or I’ll blow it off.”
Rafa smiles, but that smile turns evil in the space of a second as he reaches for his weapon and I lunge forward, gripping Alex’s arm and aiming it up toward the ceiling when it goes off.
Gabriela screams and so does the old woman who buries her face in the seat of the ratty couch as plaster rains down on us.
“Let’s put all the fucking guns away, shall we?” I say.
I relieve Alex of his and I think we’d be well matched if it wasn’t for the fact that his legs are both broken, and he’s confined to a fucking wheelchair.
“You too, Rafa,” I tell my cousin, turning to him as I tuck Alex’s pistol into the back of my pants. “And get her out of here.”
“Let me explain! I can explain,” Gabriela begs as Rafa tugs her toward the door. “Please, Stefan. Don’t hurt him. You can’t hurt him. Please just let me explain.”
I look at her, take a step toward her.
When she tugs at her arm, I gesture for Rafa to release her. I grip a handful of hair myself and force her tear-stained face up to mine.
I note her wince in pain but the fact that it still takes her a moment to drag her gaze from Alex to meet mine fills me with an unexpected and indescribable rage.
“Are you fucking him?” I spit.
Her expression becomes confused. “What? Am I…no!” She shakes her head as much as she can with the fistful of hair I’m holding. “You’re hurting me, Stefan.”
I don’t relax my grip. Instead, I twist a little harder.
She grits her teeth, taking it.
“Then explain.” The room goes silent but for the blubbering old woman. “And for fuck’s sake, someone take that woman to another room.” The fucking prayers she’s chanting over and over again are pissing me off almost as much as finding Gabriela with another man.
Two men walk the woman out of the room. Gabriela’s attention turns toward them.
“Over here. Eyes on me, Gabi.” I read the texts after she left. It’s what Alex calls her. They’re that familiar.
She obeys. “Please. It hurts,” she says again, tugging at my arm.
I let go of her hair.
“You have thirty fucking seconds. Talk fast.”
“I just came to give them some money. He…my father did that to him. Broke both his legs. That’s why the other night…that’s why there was that blood on my shirt. They made me watch.”
“Why did he break his legs?”
“I ran away. Alex helped me.”
Her father ordering the beating makes sense, but making her watch? That’s fucked up.
“My father was going to marry me off to Abe McKinney’s son and I ran. It was all I could do, Stefan. But they caught up with us and he did this to Alex then sent him here and I know his aunt doesn’t have any money and he has no job and—”
“Alex worked for your father?”
She nods. “His father did too but he died a few years ago.”
“And he betrayed your father to help you?”
“Yes.”
I glance at Alex, at the casts, wonder if he’ll walk again. I don’t ask that. Instead, I ask another question. “Why?”
“Why?” she parrots, teary-eyed.
“Why would he do that?”
She studies me and the look in her eyes becomes almost pitiful.
“Because you help your friends,” Alex answers from behind me.
I ignore him. “And why is he here? In Rome?”
“To keep me away from Gabriela,” he answers again.
“I didn’t ask you,” I say, without turning to him. I step closer to her, catch her when she steps backward and stumbles over the splintered door. I narrow my gaze. “What is he to you?”
“My friend. That’s all.” Her voice breaks and fat tears fall from her eyes. “He’s my friend, Stefan.” I get the feeling she doesn’t have many of those and I don’t know if it’s the way she said it or the way she’s looking at me or how fucking pathetic she looks right now, a mess, but beautiful still, and crying. Crying for her friend. Desperate to save him from me.
“Do I need to keep him away from you?”
“Why?” she asks, her face crumpling, tears black from all that mascara. “Why would you do that? Am I not isolated enough? Don’t you have what you want? Everything you want?” She hugs her arms around her middle, her shoulders rounding, shrinking in. Like she did with her father tonight.
I’m not like him.
I’m nothing like that monster.
“Not everything, no.” I grit my teeth. “I’ll ask you one more time and you’d better not lie to me. Are you fucking him?” My voice is low but hard, harder than I intend.
She steels her spine and I see a wall go up. Remember how she’d been when she’d seen Clara.
“Not everything is about fucking. Maybe for you it is, but not for me.” Her voice, too, is hard. Her hands fist. “I don’t have to be fucking someone to love them, Stefan.”
That last part is like a slap to the face. I feel my chest tighten, my hands clench and unclench.
Alex cuts in. He must feel the tension growing.
“Gabi’s like a sister. I’ve known her and her brother since I was two for fuck’s sake. What I did I’d do again knowing the consequences. Her brother did the same for me. So why don’t you step away from her. Give her some space.”
I hear him mutter asshole at the end of that heroic sentence and I turn on him. Because I’m going to hurt this mother fucker, broken legs or not.
Gabriela grabs my arm and I think this is the first time she’s touched me. At least not to shove me away.
Does it count when she put her hands on my shoulders to brace herself to kick me in the nuts? I decide it doesn’t.
I take a step toward Alex and her grip tightens.
“Stefan, stop. Please. Alex is my friend. That’s all. If you hurt him because of me—” her voice breaks and I turn to watch her swallow the lump. “If you hurt him, or worse, because of me, I’ll never forgive you just like I will never forgive my father for what he did.”
I don’t know why that matters. Why those last words leave any impression at all.
I turn to one of my soldiers. “Give me that.” I point to the bag of cash.
“That’s for them. It’s not yours!” Gabriela says.
“Gabi,” Alex warns her with a shake of his head, and it fucking grates on my nerves, that fucking nickname. That and the fact that she heeds his warning.
I open the bag. “How do you have this much cash?” There’s several thousand in hundred-dollar bills.
“I always save it, little bits at a time so my father won’t find out,” Gabriela says. “It’s all I had when I left the other night.”