Page 71 of A Little More Forgiveness

“Mitch, please listen to me.”

He cut his hand through the air. “I’ve done enough listening to both of you to last me a fucking lifetime. No more. No fucking more.” His anger and bitterness tore at me, knowing I was the cause.

“Tell me how I can fix this.”

“You can’t.”

“Please, Mitch.”

“Enough!” Gabe bellowed, his voice echoing around the kitchen, shocking us both into silence.

He turned to me. “Can you give us a minute?” I stared at him. “Please?”

He fixed his attention on Mitch. “Me and him have things to discuss.”

“We have nothing to discuss.”

“Oh, you’ve no fucking idea how much we’ve got to talk about Mitchell Houghton.” He turned to me and continued. “Take the dogs and go lie down for half an hour and rest.”

“Gabe, I—” I couldn’t leave him to take all of Mitch’s ire. This was my problem to resolve, not his.

He cupped my neck with his palm, and I automatically leaned into him. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

Another snort from Mitch got him a vicious look from Gabe, making him clamp his mouth shut and glare at us both instead.

I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, unsure of what to do for the best. Gabe leaned in and his gentle, loving kiss had tears filling my eyes, blurring my vision. “Half an hour,” he reiterated. I reluctantly agreed, leaving them alone in the kitchen, uncertain about doing so and wondering what on earth I’d find when I returned.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Gabe

What a fucking mess.

I fought to keep myself in check as Leo left. I’d never seen him look so defeated. His whole life he’d been told he wasn’t good enough, and his whole life he’d been trying to atone for it. Watching Mitch be so angry and dismissive with him cut me to the core, so his rejection had to be killing Leo when all he ever tried to do was improve the lives of the people around him and make them feel better, make himself feel better.

Pulling out a chair, I motioned to Mitch with my head. “Sit down.”

“I don’t wanna—”

“Sit. The fuck. Down.”

Mitch threw daggers at me but plunked himself down on the chair, which I took as a small victory and a good enough sign he seemed interested in listening to what I had to say. I let him settle as I sat beside him, angling my seat to face him, wanting no barriers between us while we talked.

Conscious of Leo in the next room and how easily our voices carried in the quiet space, I kept my voice low. “Have you ever met his stepfather?”

“What?”

“Leo’s stepfather. Have you met him?”

“A couple times. Mostly I’ve seen him in town talking to people.”

“What were your initial impressions of him?”

“What the hell does he have to do with Leo lying to me?”

“Leo didn’t lie, and what you think of his stepfather has everything to do with it.”

He tilted his head to look at me. “Malcolm Taylor’s an arrogant bastard.”

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