Page 97 of Their Will be Done

No. No! Don’t—

Zachary grabs Gabriel’s jaw and wrenches the older man’s head back to face them.

And kisses him.

My skin goes ice-cold, but the jolt of panicked adrenaline that spikes through me is enough to get me moving.

I push open the door, slip through, and pause just long enough to close it again. Then I’m scampering silently over the carpet. I rush under the table cloth and almost knock my head against one of the table legs in my hurry to conceal myself.

I squat there for a moment, trying to muffle my too-fast breathing.

I shouldn’t have bothered.

There’s a soft sound a few feet away. Something whisking against leather, maybe.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

What the hell am I going to see when I emerge from this table cloth?

I push away the thought before it can debilitate me. I take the drive out of my pocket and uncap it, then steel myself with an unsteady breath.

One.

Two.

I slowly peek out from under the tablecloth. I’m close to the wall. Zachary and Gabriel were at least a yard or so behind me, to the right. I peer around the side of the tablecloth trying not to disturb it.

I see their legs and hurriedly retract into the safety of the tablecloth.

Shit. They’re too close.

But I can’t wait any longer. If I can slip the drive in without being seen, then I can probably just leave. Maybe Zachary can pull it out when—

He’s done fucking Gabriel?

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Fuck it, Trinity.Focus.

When he’sdone.

Breathe in. Out.

Much better.

I duck out from under the tablecloth, letting it drape my shoulders as I go to my knees. The chair Gabriel was using is in my way, so I have to twist awkwardly to get at the laptop.

Would it work with the lid closed? It’ll have to, because I can’t open it. That’s something Gabriel would definitely notice.

I peek up over the top of the table and almost immediately latch eyes with Zachary.

Oh. My. God.

My lips part as a quiet shock rifles through me like wind through a discarded newspaper.

Gabriel sinks to his knees in front of Zachary, who’s propped against the back of one of the armchairs on the other side of the room, his back to the fire.

There’s a clink of a buckle as Zachary yanks open his belt.

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