Page 75 of Gabriel
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’d keep Amara alive because you’re borderline stupid obsessed.” She scoffed. “Men!”
I ignored her sarcasm. “WhereisAmara?”
She shrugged. “Not here.”
“Obviously.”
“What did you do or say to send her running?”
It was my turn to shrug. “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, then placed a tray on the side table. She leaned over slightly to uncuff me, then pulled out a gun and took several steps back. She took a seat on the farthest chair in the room, crossing her legs, pointing her gun at me.
“Go freshen up and do your business, then get to eating. I don’t want to hang out here all day. I have better things to do.”
I headed into the bathroom, then quickly took a shower before I selected a change of clothes. I had to admit, the women had done well when they stocked up my wardrobe and toiletries for me. There was no expense spared.
Once done, I stepped out and found Elira still in the same spot.
“You and Amara sure know my tastes,” I remarked, taking a seat on the bed. “Every time I look at the wardrobe you procured for me, I’m impressed anew.”
She shrugged. “Amara’s doing. I would have left you uncomfortable and stinky.”
“It seems Amara knows me well, then,” I remarked, although I couldn’t quite decide whether it was surprising or not that she did.
“Of course she does,” Elira said with a smug smile. “Listen, Santos, I’m going to give you a tip or two.”
I reached for the egg sandwich.
“This ought to be good. Let’s hear it,” I muttered, then bit into it.
As if she were settling in for a long conversation, she sank deeper into the chair, then said, “Amara is a no-nonsense girl. She might not be my mother’s biological daughter, but she might as well be.”
I swallowed, the food going down harder, kind of like her message. “You don’t say.”
“Yep, the two are the same,” she continued. “So, in order to get Amara to like you, forget charm and romance. Instead, you need to prove to her that you’d have her back. She appreciates loyalty, reason, and… well, sex above all else.”
I took a drink of the hot coffee, pondering her words before replying. “So how will that work out for you and your brother, then?”
She raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“What do you think will happen when Amara learns of your and Jet’s betrayal?” I clarified. “You and your brother are certainly not keeping her in the loop, are you? Where’syourloyalty?”
Her expression cracked for a flicker of a second before a cold mask slid into place, and she shot to her feet.
“You’re done eating,” she gritted, then closed the distance between us, gun still in her hands.
It was obvious I’d hit a sore spot because in the next breath, my wrists were cuffed and she left, slamming the door behind her.
Late afternoon bled into early evening, and it seemed another day would waste away untouched. Outside, the light turned into the kind of gold that always reminded me of blood on sand.
That’s when I heard it: the soft pad of footsteps.Hers.
The door clicked open.
No knock, no warning—just Amara, shadowed in the doorway.
My heart slammed against my ribs the moment she stepped into the cabin, tray in hand.
