Page 36 of Fragile

Asher was looking between us with a confused expression at the tension.

“God, you two are doing my head in with your constant bickering. Maybe you should just shag and get it out of your system?” Ash put in, adding a stupid toothy grin that made me want to thump him. Max had suggested the same remedy and I physically recoiled with embarrassment, my mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Gabriel took in my reaction and rolled his eyes, twisting his head to his brother. “Why don’t you shut it and concentrate on the Fettuccine? You know you can’t multitask for shit,” he suggested, handing Asher the spatula.

It felt like a pivotal moment and so I pivoted, trying to sneak away whilst his attention was elsewhere. Although I was partly relieved that Gabriel had at least moved his brother's comment on quickly.

“Leonie, wait up,” he snapped, stopping me in my tracks and forcing me to turn.

His shrewd gaze pinned me to the spot. “Well?” He was still waiting for an answer.

I so wished he’d leave his split personality at the door. “I’m going to work,” I replied, tightening the belt of my raincoat. It was banging it down outside but I had refused Asher’s suggestion that Marco drive me to the club. I knew the driver was a gossip and didn’t want him to report back where I was working to Gabriel. No doubt he’d have a problem with it.

“Since when did you work?” Gabriel said, pushing off the counter and strolling towards me. He was so graceful for someone so large.

A shiver went up my spine as he got closer. He looked so incredibly manly, even in the kitchen. I imagined he’d be a great cook as it appeared he could turn his hand to anything. I attempted to ignore how good he looked in the pale grey wool sweater and how the material pulled across his broad shoulders.

“Since I got a job,” I replied in a soft voice, attempting to play nice but my words were at odds with my intention.

His lip curled. “Don’t try to be cute, it doesn’t suit you. Where do you work?”

He was standing so close to me, and I could see Asher had turned to stir the large pot of whatever they were having for supper. Ash had offered to feed me earlier but, of course, I was on a strict no-food diet. Not great I know, but it was only for a few more days.

Chewing my bottom lip, I glanced up at him from beneath my lashes. “I work in a bar, serving drinks.”

“You can do better than that. Where?” he bit back, rolling his shoulders as if trying to work out a knot.

I pursed my lips. I didn’t need to lie as I had nothing to be ashamed of. Where did he think I got the money to pay my rent? “A place on the other side of Soho.”

Gabriel slowly shook his head from side to side, “Not good enough, kitten. What’s the bar called?” And my temper which was usually tightly coiled, unravelled at lightning speed.

I toyed with whether to name a totally different bar, but I knew it wasn’t wise. Gabriel was like a walking lie detector test he was that shrewd, so I went with, “Where I work isn’t important, what I do with the money I make so I can pay you, is. Look, I haven’t got time to chat. I have a job as a waitress and that’s all you need to know.” God knew why I appeared to be goading him but I couldn’t help myself.

“What crawled up your arse?” Gabriel shot back with narrowed eyes.

“You actually. Your attitude towards me is starting to get on my nerves.”

He smirked and raised his eyebrows, shooting a glance behind him at Asher who was still furiously stirring the pot, clearly pretending not to listen.

As Gabriel turned back to face me, he scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Fuck me, there actually is a backbone in there. You want to fight me, kitten?” my tormentor said with that snarky twist to his lips. I curled my hands into fists by my sides.

He was giving me emotional whiplash; now appearing impressed that I was answering him back. Talk about mixed messages.

“Talking of bones, you’ve lost weight. Shouldn’t you have something to eat before you go to work?” He delivered the words without any hint that he was concerned or trying to help me and of course he wasn’t; Gabriel Knight didn’t do feelings. Certainly not other people’s anyway.

“We have enough if you want some of what we’re having?” His face was impossible to read but I wasn’t in the mood for a diet lecture.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’m not into chicken nuggets,” I sassed, purposefully labelling Asher’s go-to meal. It was a low blow considering I knew Gabriel’s taste for steak. The other night he sat at the table tucking into a piece of meat the size of my head, served with steamy vegetables. Lean fillet steak and vegetables were a staple diet for most professional dancers as they needed the protein. Being on such a strict diet I’d struggled to not stare at what looked like half a cow, sitting on his plate.

“Funny. You know it’s pasta.”

Not trusting his offer after balling me out for not coming clean about where I worked, I arched a freshly tweezed eyebrow. “Again, too many carbs.”

I made to turn away but Gabriel grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. The skin where his fingers were wrapped fizzed under his touch.

“Fine. But in future, you need to tell us where you’re going. How can we look out for you if we don’t know where you are?” he husked, staring down at me. Gabriel had drawn me closer, still holding me firmly. His breath was warm on my face.

“Asher knows,” I stuttered.

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