Page 15 of His Property

“Look,” I say, my tone sharp. “I get it. You’re embarrassed and angry. You have every right to be. But stop taking it out on me. I’m not your punching bag.”

The anger melts off her face, and I want to punch myself when I see the sadness take its place.

Fuck.

“You’re right.” Gabi lowers her head while lifting a hand to rub her temples, probably to shield tears from me.

Goddammit, I’m an asshole.

“I’m sorry. Can you please help me out?” she asks, her voice deceptively steady.

I open my mouth, but I don’t know what to say, so I close it. I hate it when she’s like this, and all I was doing a minute ago was trying to get her mind off the basement. I’d rather be her punching bag than her little brother who can’t cure this fucking disease.

Without a word, I hand Gabi the robe draped over her scooter and wait for her to put it on. I lift her off the chair and set her on the scooter, and then I walk from the bathroom and wait for her to back out into the living room. There aren’t any tears running down her face, but I know they’re coming. Just as soon as she’s alone.

“I’m tired,” she says, not looking at me. “I’m gonna go lay down.”

“You sure?” I frown. “I was thinking we could watch a movie or something. You still owe me a rematch at chess, do you want to do that?”

She shakes her head. “Maybe later. Don’t you need to be leaving, anyway? You said you had a job to do with Emily at four.”

Emily is a coworker of mine, one of the few I actually work with. Most of the jobs I do are solo, but Emily has deft hands and a skillset I can’t compete with when some things need to be done. She doesn’t ask too many questions, and she’s funny, so we get along well. You could call us friends.

“That’s tomorrow.”

“You said the job was on Saturday. It’s Saturday.”

Panic sweeps over me briefly as I realize she’s right. I left my phone on the couch earlier, so I go grab it to see the message from Emily sent a half hour ago.

Still picking me up?

I groan and type out a quick response before hitting send.

Sorry. Got caught up. Can we meet in the city?

We’re already ten minutes late from where we’re both supposed to be, which means we’re in deep shit. Well, I am. Emily’s husband is a capo, so I doubt he’s going to let her take the fall for my mistake.

“Reorganizing the basement must be awfully distracting.” Gabi says, her tone flat.

I put my phone away and look down at her. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She nods and holds out her arms when I go to hug her. “Be safe,” she says, her chin on my shoulder.

I pull back and nod like I always do when she says that. I think she knows I have a dark side to me, but she has no idea just how dangerous I am. I’m not the one she should be telling to be safe, but I never correct her.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m a thirty-one-year-old woman, Victor. I’ll be fine.”

I give her a half-hearted smile before turning toward the door and hurrying out of the house, grabbing my keys off the entryway hook as I go.

I try to believe Gabi’s words, but I can’t get over the feeling that she needs me.

The feeling started when I was twelve years old, that first time she fell, and it’s never quite gone away.

5

MAE

---