Page 102 of Fragile

My confusion depended. “Maim, what does that mean?” The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, an image of the words ‘butchered to death’ on a tombstone flashing before my eyes.

He titled his head, his thick brows drawing together. “Put it this way,” he said slowly, almost savouring the words. “It would be hard to dance without any kneecaps. Now get in the fucking car.”

Something in his expression made me realise he was serious.

Glancing down at the gun which was now pointed at one of my knees, I buckled and fell forward into him. Strong arms caught me.

“For fucks sake,” was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

Gabe

I wasn’t one to use emojis at the best of times, if there had been an emoji to flip someone off, I might have done. Pulling out all the stops, as well as the smiling emoji, I added a kissing one to reassure Leonie that our talk was nothing to worry about. I was good at hiding my emotions and I couldn’t imagine she would be fully aware of how deep my feelings ran.

Since coming on the scene, she’d changed my life, made me want to be a better version of myself, cliched as fuck but true nonetheless. Apart from her beauty and cracking body, she had a killer personality. Leonie was kind and sweet-natured with a great sense of humour and an infectious laugh. I even loved the fact that she sounded like she was dying when singing in the shower. I’d told her so one day but that didn’t stop her. And she was strong, tougher than I had given her credit for, considering everything she had been through.

Leonie was that one that they talked about, a ‘keeper’ and I knew she had feelings for me as she wore her heart on her sleeve. I just didn’t know if they were as deep as mine. The fact that I was her first had also made me more territorial. She was mine, and that night at dinner, I would tell her how I felt.

I would also look forward to sealing the deal between the sheets. Once she was officially mine, I would never let her go.

Just the thought of seeing her had my heart thumping against my rib cage. Why the fuck it had taken me so long to sort my shit out was anyone's guess.

Leonie Smith was the one.

As I was pushing my phone into my jeans, it vibrated to say I had another text and I drew it out with a smile on my face. Wondering if she’d returned my kiss.

I believe you have a package that does not belong to you. WTF? I reread the message. It was from an anonymous caller.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I thought about whether to reply and eventually went with, Who is this?

The fucking tooth fairy. Do you have my package?

Chaos erupted in my mind. What package? I scanned the kitchen. Asher usually left my mail on the table.

I don’t have a package. Why don’t you call me so we can discuss it? I added the latter sentence to encourage a conversation with whatever dickhead was messaging me.

Recorded delivery. Signed for by a Mac?

Who the fuck was Mac? Someone was taking the piss and so I decided to ignore it.

As I was checking the fridge to see what I could cook for Leonie that night, my phone went off again. I didn’t check it straight away, hopefully, if I ignored it whoever was hassling me would do one.

After deciding on pasta for supper, I checked my phone and my whole fucking world crashed around me.

Two pictures of Leonie at Felice’s appeared from that same anonymous number. I almost dropped my phone; my hands were shaking so hard. They were shots taken of her when she was unaware and an obvious warning. My eyes flew up from my phone as I slammed my fist on the table to calm myself the fuck down, I then thumbed the screen and found her number.

Come on, come on, fucking answer! I swore viciously but it went straight to voicemail. I then accessed the net and googled the number for the restaurant and called there directly. They took fucking ages to answer.

“Felice’s,” a voice said.

“I need to speak to Leonie Smith, it’s Gabriel, her boyfriend,” I added the last bit automatically.

“Sorry, you’ve just missed her. She left early.”

I disconnected the call and started pacing, think Gabriel, fucking think! I was about to lose my shit before a thought occurred to me. Mac? Could it have been Max? But surely when you signed for something, you wrote your surname? It was a long shot but I searched his number and tapped the screen.

He didn’t answer and so I kept hitting re-dial like a crazy person.

“What the fuck dude, take a hint, I have the biggest hangover of—.”

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