Page 17 of Vicious Devotion

“What?” I feel like my brain stutters, like nothing quite makes sense for a moment. I’m floating on a high of sensation, and it’s as if my body and mine physically resist returning to the real world, where we have to face the consequences of what’s happening.

But I’m dragged back into it anyway.

“You—you’ve been through all of this, with Igor, and the moment we’re alone, I just—” He looks down at his hands, as if it’s somehow incomprehensible to him that he just touched me the way he did. It feels like a sharp pain in my chest, seeing him regret it. The last thing that I ever wanted was for Gabriel to regret anything we did together. And up until this very moment, I’ve never seen even a hint of that.

But now—after what Igor did…

I can’t help but think that he has reason to regret it. That it would make sense, if he did. That maybe he’s thinking over what I said, and wondering if he should have left me there after all.

“We weren’t supposed to do this again,” he continues. “We agreed. I should have been able to stop myself. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

I bite my lip, trying to breathe normally enough to even begin to respond. “It’s alright,” I finally manage, my heart still racing in my chest. I can’t think of what else to say; everything in my head still feeling muddled and foggy. I’m still aching for him to come back, to touch me again, to kiss me like he did a moment ago. I want to forget everything that’s happened since that awful afternoon in his kitchen, and his hands on me make it so that I can do exactly that.

“I wanted it, too,” I whisper softly, a part of me hoping that he might change his mind. That he’ll throw caution to the wind. That we can put aside everything that needs to be worried about right now, and just?—

“We should focus on what’s happening,” Gabriel says carefully, as if he could hear my thoughts. He takes another few steps back, as if he needs space, and my heart aches. I want to reach out to him, but it seems to me that he’s made it clear how he feels about that, at least for right now.

“Okay,” I say quietly, biting my lip. “You said we’re going to Italy?” My mind is racing, the fear flooding back in as the moment with Gabriel fades into the background. Italy feels very far away, but is it far enough? Is anywhere far enough to get away from Igor and his threats?

Gabriel nods. “Yes.” He hesitates then, sinking down onto the edge of the armchair to my left, his hands rubbing over his knees. I can’t help but notice the way his gaze flicks to the bed, and then drops to the floor again, before he looks back at me. “What happened with Igor, Bella?”

“Do we have to talk about it?” I whisper, my voice small. My knees feel watery—at first from Gabriel kissing me up against the wall, but now because of the fear that prickles over my skin, chilling me to the bone as I remember Igor and his mansion and everything that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to escape. Everything that he threatened, if I did.

Gabriel shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly. “I won’t make you talk about anything that you’re not ready for. I think you know that by now. But I think—” He trails off again, and I let out a breath, my chest tightening.

“It would be good for you to know, since you’re caught up in it, too,” I murmur dully, my hands curling into anxious fists as my nails bite into my palms. None of this would be happening if I had never gone to work for him. None of this would be happening now, making it worse, if he hadn’t come to get me. I don’t want to go back—I don’t want to be trapped with Igor in his mansion; I don’t want to be his wife. I don’t know how I would have survived any of it, and yet?—

Gabriel shouldn’t have to be the one who pays for it when Igor comes after me. He and his family—the people other than Clara that I care most about in the world.

Gabriel nods slowly. “It would be good for me to know what we’re up against. What it is that Igor wanted from you, what he had planned. But I can’t begin to imagine how hard it would be to relive all of that by talking about it, especially when it happened so recently. And especially after—” He presses his lips together briefly, his mouth a thin line. “After what happened before.”

He’s right. We’re going to another country in order to put distance between Igor and Gabriel’s family, and Gabriel should know what Igor had intended. But the thought of talking about it makes me feel as if my legs can no longer hold me up, and I sink down to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees as I pull them into my chest. For a moment, I feel like I’m going to burst into tears, and I fight it back.

“He said he was going to give me to his men, at first.” I look down at the floor as I speak; I can’t bear to see the look on Gabriel’s face as I explain. “But he liked my defiance. He said I was responsible for what happened to Pyotr, because of what my family arranged and did, and that since all of that lost him his heir, he’d get a new one from me, instead. So he planned to marry me. He was arranging for the wedding when you—” I draw in a slow breath, trying to remind myself that I’m here now, that I’m free, and Igor can’t get to me here. Not at this moment, at least. What happens later will be something I’ll have to face, but at least for right now, I’m safe. “When you rescued me.”

When I look up, the expression on Gabriel’s face is tight and angry, an echo of what I saw the night that I told him about what had happened at my wedding to Pyotr, of the fury that I saw when he walked into the house to see Igor holding me and his family at gunpoint. His hands are clenched into fists on his knees, and I can see the flush creeping up his throat, his eyes dark with fury.

“Did he—” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and he barely gets two words out before I shake my head.

“No,” I tell him quickly. “He said he wouldn’t touch me until our wedding night. He treated it like—” I swallow hard. “Like he was doing me a favor. But he said he’d observe the proprieties, even though I wasn’t a virgin any longer.”

Gabriel’s face goes ashen, his lips pressed tightly together, his jaw clenched. “Shit,” he breathes. “God, I’m sorry, Bella. The fact that I, that we—it could have been so much worse for you, because you weren’t—anymore—” It’s clear that he can’t fully get the words out, his voice thick with anger, and I shake my head quickly. I can’t bear the thought of him wishing he could take that back. Not that night, a night that at one point I’d never thought I would manage to have with anyone.

“But it wasn’t.” I lean forward, part of me wanting to go to him, and part of me needing the space in this particular moment, with all of the memories crowding in. I both don’t want to be touched, and want the comfort of his arms around me all at once, and it’s the strangest thing I’ve ever experienced. “It wasn’t worse.”

“How did he know?” Gabriel’s expression looks pained. “Did he make you tell him, about?—”

I shake my head. “He had a doctor examine me.” It comes out a little choked, my throat tightening at the memory of Dr. Maglin’s hands on me. I shudder, my skin prickling. “The doctor was—professional about it. But it was still?—”

“Fuck, Bella.” Gabriel starts to get up, as if he’s going to come to me, and then sinks back down, his expression hurt and confused. It’s clear he wants to comfort me, and isn’t sure how, any longer. There are so many layers to what we are to each other now—at one point, he knew not to touch me at all. And then that changed. But now, we’re no longer lovers, and after what happened, I know he’s wondering if everything we managed to heal has been opened up again, stitches yanked out of a wound.

“I want to say that I can’t believe he would do that,” Gabriel says quietly, sinking back down with his hands in his lap. He stares down at them, as if there’s some answer there, something that can fix all of this. “But I can. I know what men like him are capable of. But I’m not going to let him get to you again, Bella.” He looks up at me sharply, his expression firm. “I’ll make sure you’re protected.”

“He’s going to come after me.” The brief moment of safety flees, and I look up at him, cold all over again. “Gabriel, the things he threatened—” I should tell him about that, too, but I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. My throat closes up every time I try, and I can feel myself shaking harder. “He’s not going to let this go. He won’t just take it out on me, either—he’s not going to let you all go again, and?—”

Gabriel looks up sharply. “I can protect you, Bella. I need you to trust me on that. Please.” His eyes are dark and intense as they fix on mine, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. “Please trust me.”

I let out a slow breath, biting my lip as I squeeze my arms more tightly around my knees. “You said we’re going to Italy,” I murmur finally. “Tell me more about that.”

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