Page 36 of Gabriel's Salvation

I finally catch sight of Gabe heading into the pub at the corner of the street. I follow him inside and after scanning the bar I find him sitting alone in one of the corner booths.

“Let me explain,” I beg as I slide in opposite him.

“What, explain how this has all been some big joke? How you and Izzy thought it would be funny to pretend you were someone special?” he huffs as he takes his drink and downs the whole thing in one gigantic gulp. “Bet you and Izzy had a great laugh at my expense.”

“Izzy?” I ask, clearly confused. “What's she got to do with anything?”

“Bet it was her that told you about our father. Bet it was her idea to get that guy to hit you when I was watching to see what I'd do next. Bet you all had a great laugh at my expense,” Gabe snaps, clearly spiraling. What the hell is he talking about? I stare at him looking at his glass with his chest heaving.

Unsure what to do, my only options are to physically slap some sense into him or to do something to distract him and break the spiral. I decide on the latter. Reaching over the table I grab hold of his face and kiss him. At first he resists, keeping his lips tight in defiance, but soon they open and let me in. Gabe reaches out, grabs the back of my hair, and pulls me tighter against him. This kiss is anything but sweet; it's filled with a mixture of hate, anger, and passion. He kisses me so hard that it almost hurts.

I pull away and run my hand up to my mouth and am shocked when I find that my lip is bleeding. Not a lot, but enough that the metallic taste of blood is present when I swallow.

“You bit me, you bastard.” I snap.

“You deserved it.” He replies back with a smirk. At least the anger seems to have subsided slightly.

“You have five minutes to explain,” Gabe informs me.

“Fine but not here. Let's go somewhere else.” I suggest.

Gabe throws some money down on the table and we head outside.

“Where to?” Gabe asks.

I realize I have no idea where to go next. I don't really wanna go for a drive with him in this state, but I also don't wanna end up at another motel, well not just yet. Then an idea hits me. “Follow me.”

I lead him down the road to an old abandoned building, slip through the broken fence, and lead him up the rickety staircase until we get to the top.

“We’re here,” I finally say, opening the door, and carefully placing a nearby brick to stop the door from closing behind us.

“And where is here?” Gabe asks, looking around with that pissed off look he often has.

“My safe space,” I say quietly.

“Really? You call this safe?” Gabe laughs as he takes in the site around us. I look around as well, seeing it the way he must see it. The rooftop is old and bare. There are broken and cracked walls around us. Even the safety rail is hanging off.

“Safer than it is out there,” I admit as I sit down and point to the world below us.

I look over at Gabe and he has that ‘tell me more’ look in his eyes as he sits himself beside me. So I take a huge breath and begin.

“The reason why this is my safe place is because when my world was falling apart I had this place to escape to. When I was ten, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. My sister Harper stepped up and took it upon herself to become mom's nurse. Dad was wonderful to my mom. He took care of her and took her to all of her appointments. Dad did so many fundraisers to get money for her to fly all the way to the UK for some experimental treatment. Do you know what I did? I broke down and I didn't know how to cope. I didn't know what to do and I couldn't ‘fix’ my mom or make her cancer go away. So I acted out, I got into trouble daily, I didn't pay attention or care about school. I became a little shit to everyone.”

“And what happened next?” Gabe asks and I can hear the sincerity in his voice.

“Thankfully it worked. She was given some experimental drug that shrank the cancer enough that doctors were able to operate. She had to have a full mastectomy but they say the cancer’s gone. She gets checked regularly, but knock on wood, she's been given the all clear for the last five years.”

“She was very lucky,” Gabe says as he reaches out and wipes away the tear rolling down my cheek.

“Spoken like someone who understands,” I say leaning into him.

“Unfortunately, my mother wasn't so lucky. Her cancer was fast and aggressive. She went from happy and vibrant, to a shell of her former self in the blink of an eye.” Gabe admits and I can hear how his voice breaks as he speaks.

“How old were you?” I ask.

“Eight, poor Nate wasn't even five,” he says, standing and turning away.

Standing to join him I add, “You were only a little kid too, that must have been unbearable.”

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