Page 24 of Salvation

I managed to slide out from under Gabrial’s arm without waking him. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, almost vulnerable. The prominent lines of his darkly angelic face were softened, though his cheeks were covered in dark stubble. Instead of making him look harsh, it made him just look beautiful. The combination of the face along with the wavy black hair and the muscles of his olive-skinned chest peeking out from the black satin sheet stole my breath.

Gabrial is literally the epitome of a dark angel. He’s so gorgeous. So perfect. It’s so hard to see him like this and think that this same man sells drugs and guns to the highest bidder.

How can someone look so much like an angel and do some of the things he does?!

My thoughts were bringing on a panic attack after being combined with my night terror, so after slipping the shirt from the early morning hours back on, I tiptoed down the stairs and made myself some coffee.

Once I’d fixed it to my liking with the supplies Gabrial keeps stocked just for me, I found myself heading into the sunroom at the back of the house and curling up on the sofa in there. I drank my coffee and stared into the darkness until the first rays of the rising sun broke through.

Sunrise was beautiful. The black of the night faded into navy before hints of lilac weaved throughout. And within seconds, the muted colors of the night gave way to the bright pinks, oranges, and yellows of the incoming day. It looked like some amazing artist took their brush to the sky. I found myself sighing at the absolute beauty of the sight through the large picture windows.

That was how Gabrial found me. I’d apparently drifted back off to sleep holding my empty coffee cup with my knees tucked under me sometime shortly after sunrise.

He’d kissed me softly as I woke up, and then smiled at me and told me he had somewhere he needed to be and asked me to lock up when I left. It was then I noticed he was in a full custom-made dark onyx suit and had shaved. His hair was slicked back, every black strand perfectly in place. The black suit was a sexy, stark contrast to his olive skin and dark eyes and hair. He looked powerful. Like a man that shouldn’t be crossed.

He once again looked like Gabrial DeLucca… the breathtaking crime lord. He was no longer the soft, vulnerable man I’d left in bed in the wee hours of the morning.

I nodded, but said nothing, and with one last smile, he left.

Sitting up, I stretch and jump around as I attempt to snap myself out of it. No time to lollygag. I have so much work to do. And Luke will be here shortly.

Grabbing the stack of mail that Maia has left on the table by my office door, I sit back down and start to sort it.

Bill… corporation letter asking how they can help… check that I’ve been waiting on… I won ten million dollars and to claim it, I have ten days… junk… newspaper… church around the corner where Daddy runs the mission’s newsletter… and an envelope with no return address…

What the hell is this?!

Moving the piles of important mail to the corner of my desk and tossing the junk into the pile to be shredded, I reach for the flat manila envelope.

It’s not thick, but I can feel what seems like a few pieces of paper in it. My name and the shelter address are on it in stark, clear, dark letters. That’s it. There’s no return address and as I look to see where it was mailed from, I see that it isn’t postmarked.

Someone put this into the mail slot out front?!

What the hell? What is this? Where did it come from?

Suddenly, I’m nervous to open it. But I find myself tearing the top off of it and dumping the contents onto the top of my desk. I was right. It’s only a few sheets of paper. Or rather three black and white 8x10 photographs and a typed note.

Picking up the photographs, I look through them. One is a photo of me and Luke. We’re smiling at each other in front of the shelter and my hands are on his arms as his own are around my waist. You can tell from the photo that we just broke from an embrace.

The next photo is of Gabrial leaving the shelter. He’s on his phone and his face is serious. He appears to be walking to his waiting car. I can see the top of Davey’s head in the left corner of the photo as he stands near Gabrial’s Escalade.

The last photo is of Gabrial and me… we’re in a romantic embrace and his hand is on my ass as my hands cradle his head. My fingers are woven through his hair to hold his face to mine. It’s shot from the side from an obvious long-range camera and captures the pool at Gabrial’s house.

My hands are shaking as I reach for the small, typed note that accompanied the photos.

A woman who loves two men.

One cop.

One criminal.

Opposite sides of the same coin.

Love can be a weakness…

My breath catches as I re-read the note a few times.

It flutters to the desk as I gasp, and my fingers go weak.

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