Page 121 of Wicked Submission

“Reese has court this afternoon. I’m assuming this evening, maybe even at the courthouse. Go get dressed. We need to get moving.”

She gives a choppy nod and I manage to get her to the bathroom. Once we’re there, I turn on the hot water, strip her naked, and pull her under the water with me, wondering when she’s going to have the last piece of this puzzle hit her. It doesn’t happen until she steps out of the shower. She’s holding a towel when she drops it. “Oh God. It wasn’t me but—Gabe.” She swallows hard. “You know what I’m thinking, don’t you?”

“Your mother’s a redhead.”

Chapter seventy-two

Gabe

Gabe

“I have to call her. I have to go see my mother.” Abbie tries to pull away from me but I hold her close, folding her naked body into mine.

“Not yet. Wait, baby.”

“Why not yet? No, no waiting. Let me go.”

“Not yet,” I repeat. “Stop and think.”

“I need to know if she was there.”

“One: you don’t want to talk to her on the phone that can be listened in on. Two: we’ll know more when we get to Reese’s office. Neither Blake nor Reese wanted to tell me much for the same reason. The phone is a dangerous communication method.”

“There’s more to tell?”

“Nothing big or they would have warned me. They didn’t.”

“Gabe,” she breathes out, torment in her voice. “She isn’t a killer, but would she confront him? What if shewasthere? What if they blame my mother?”

“She has the best legal counsel possible in Reese and so do we.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know you are.” I tilt her face up to mine. “I’ll protect you and your mother. That’s a promise. And remember what I told you last night. When I protect someone, I don’t fail.”

“And who protects you?”

Dexter barks and my lips curve. “Dexter, the resident serial killer.”

She wraps the towel around her and leans down to hug the big pup, tension easing from her shoulders. Damn if that dog isn’t earning his keep and earning it well, but right now, I’m thinking about the redhead. It’s an obvious set-up. I pull Abbie to her feet. “Someone is trying to take us down, baby. We won’t let them. Dress for the office. We need to make damn sure we go on with our life. We need them to know that we have nothing to worry about but they do.”

abbie

Lies.

They cut like knives. They create wounds that don’t just bleed, they fester. I’ve been cut. I’m still feeling the pain and the sense of betrayal never to become trust. But Gabe is changing this, changing me. Someone is attacking me and my mother, and yet, I trust him. I trust him so much that when he says he’ll handle this, I believe him. That promise from him is what brings me down ten notches. It’s what gets me through my morning routine, as does him, by my side, shaving, and casting me concerned looks and well-timed smiles.

Still, I hurry through my routine, eager for answers, and dress in a lilac dress with a cinched waist. I’ve just pulled a black jacketover the top when Gabe steps out of the closet in a perfectly fitted gray suit and heads to the mirror to knot his tie. I pull on my knee-high boots and step between him and the counter. “Let me.”

“I don’t believe I’ve let anyone but my mother knot my tie.”

This pleases me, as does the possessiveness of his hands settling at my waist, under my jacket. “Now you have,” I say.

“Did you do this for Kenneth?”

I glance up at him, aware that he’s thinking of those years when I was another man’s wife. “No, I didn’t.”Because my ex and I didn’t have intimate moments like I do with you, I want to add, but I’m feeling rather vulnerable and exposed right now.

“Then how did you learn?” he asks.

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