Invidia Read online

Gabriel follows her out into the lobby. “She changed me.”

  “She wanted to believe that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Prove it.” She spins to face him, locking eyes with him. “Do the right thing for once in your life. You might be surprised by the kind of results it can achieve.”

  Her words echo in his head on the way home.

  They’re still rolling through his mind after he feeds and changes Ella, and settles her down for a nap in her new crib in the old guest bedroom.

  The right thing.

  What is that anyway? Filing for a paternity test? Adopting Ella? Coming clean to Veva? Or maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe it’d be better for him to say nothing at all, and to spare her feelings. Maybe the honorable thing is for him to walk away from everything: his friendship with J.C., Ella, and his relationship with Veva.

  Or perhaps there’s another way.

  Perhaps he can satisfy his selfish need to be around Ella without having to disrupt the status quo. Wracking his brain for other solutions to his predicament, he realizes that he hasn’t yet taken full advantage of his new position within the Hunter Division.

  He’s the Deputy General now, and that comes with privileges. Taking a baby monitor with him, he boots up the computer in his home office. Quickly bringing up the Hunter Division staff rota, he attempts to make a small alteration.

  It works.

  He inputs his credentials into the restricted area of the mainframe, and with a few swift keystrokes, he commands the power to alter Hunter Division scheduling. He has the power to give himself weekends off. He has the power to ensure that he can be available to care for Ella when J.C. is unable to. Moreover, he has the power to ensure the latter.

  *************************

  Veva knocks on the front door, then tries the handle.

  It’s open.

  She lets herself into Gabriel’s home and calls out his name.

  “In here,” he calls back to her from the kitchen.

  She checks her appearance in the hallway mirror before she goes to him. She lets down her hair and applies another layer of lipstick, then adjusts her boobs inside her dress—she wants to be perfect for him.

  Upon entering the kitchen, she catches sight of the baby monitor on the countertop. A frown puckers her brow for a split second, but she quickly erases it. Sure, it’s premature, but the sentiment isn’t in the least bit unwelcome.

  Quite the opposite, in fact.

  She greets Gabriel with a kiss and compliments the aroma of dinner, then helps him set the table. She’s just in time. He serves dinner minutes after her arrival, and their conversation is peppered with talk of work and life and the future.

  She hints at moving in, and he doesn’t dissuade her.

  She hints at marriage, and he doesn’t object.

  Everything is going better than she could ever have hoped … until halfway through the main course, that is. Conversation is abruptly halted by a baby’s cries, and Veva freezes with her fork midway to her mouth.

  What the fuck?

  Her expression blank, she turns to stare at the baby monitor, the lights now flashing rapidly all the way to the top of the scale as the baby screams at the top of her lungs.

  “Gabe … ?”

  She doesn’t complete the question. She’s not even sure what the question is.

  He sets down his knife and fork. “I’m sorry. It’s her feeding time.”

  Without further explanation, he leaves the room.

  Stunned beyond words, Veva hesitates for several minutes before a morbid, fearful curiosity eventually drives her to follow him. When she opens the door to the new nursery, she finds him sitting in a nursing chair, bottle feeding a newborn.

  “Gabe …” She points at Ella. “Whose baby is that?”

  “I’m taking care of her for a few days.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Jonathan Cross.” He grits his teeth. “She’s his.”

  Veva’s not an idiot; she senses the animosity.

  “That’s what all of this was for?” She looks around the room. “The crib, the dresser—all of it.” She begins to back away, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m such an idiot.” Tears well in her eyes. “I thought …”

  “Vee, don’t be like that.”

  “I thought this was for us, Gabe. I’ve been so patient with you, and I thought …” Her voice trails off as she performs a few mental calculations.

  Lora’s death.

  Gabriel’s Fringe District binge.

  Their first night together, and his sudden, desperate need for her company.

  Shit.

  She looks back at Gabriel, his loving attention pinned firmly on the tiny bundle nestled in the crook of his arm. Restraining her tears as best she can, she forces herself to look at him so that she might gauge his reaction.

  “Why does she mean so much to you?”

  “She just lost her mother. She needs people to take care of her.”

  “Again, that’s not what I asked.”

  Backed into a corner, Gabriel answers carefully. “Lora was very special to me.”

  “How special?”

  Gabriel sets Ella’s bottle aside and sits her upright, patting and rubbing her back until she burps up air and small dribble of milk.

  “Answer me,” Veva insists.

  “Very.” He sighs.

  Veva reads between the lines, and she’s openly disgusted. “I guess old habits die hard, huh? Does J.C. know?”

  “Yes,” he admits, looking sorrowfully into his lap.

  She shakes her head in disbelief. “He’s supposed to be your best friend.”

  “I know.”

  “And she was his wife.”

  “I know.” Gabriel lays Ella down in her crib and rocks it back and forth with his foot.

  “And what was I?” Veva strides closer, grabs him by the shoulder and turns him to face her. “A convenient back-up?”

  “Vee …”

  She’s too upset for anger.

  She’s too upset for anything more than a faint whisper. “You bastard.”

  Gabriel tries to hold her back, but she wriggles out of his grasp and heads for the front door. After checking to make sure that Ella’s needs have been met, he goes after her. He catches up to her in the hallway and yanks her back by the elbow, giving her no choice but to stand and face him.

  “Please, Vee. We can talk this over. I can make this better.”

  “How long?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. How long did it go on for? How long were you fucking her behind my back? How long were you two-timing me? How long were you betraying your best friend? How long were you—”

  “Vee!” He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Stop it. I get it.”

  “Do you?” She jerks her arm free. “Do you have any real comprehension of what you’ve done?”

  “This is a clusterfuck, and I’m well aware of it.”

  Another thought suddenly occurs to her. “What if Loralei hadn’t died?”

  He looks as though he’s about to say something, but she doesn’t give him the opportunity to get a word out.

  “What was your big plan for the future? What was your end game?”

  She watches his expression closely, capturing every trace of hurt and guilt, no matter how hard he tries to conceal it from her.

  “I would’ve made things right,” he says at last.

  “What does that mean, Gabe? Go on. Say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “You were going to leave me, weren’t you?”

  “I—”

  “Is that what I am to you? Second best?”

  “It’s not like that, Vee.”

  “No? You kept me on the sidelines until Loralei died, you self-serving prick. You never really wanted to be with me at all.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Ella starts to
cry.

  So does Veva.

  Gabriel is conflicted.

  “Go to her.” Veva brushes away her tears and takes a step back from him. “Go tend to your daughter.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Hanged Man

  After dropping baby Ella back off at J.C.’s apartment, Gabriel sinks into a sulk like a dejected, unloved puppy. It’s been three days, and Veva still isn’t answering his calls. He stopped by her house, but she wouldn’t see him. He had flowers sent to her, but she refused the delivery.

  His apartment feels empty without Ella in it, and he can’t bear the silence. Tired of sitting alone, picking at food he doesn’t care one bit to eat, he snatches up his car keys and heads out.

  His destination is predictable.

  There’s only one place for a Hunter to go when he’s in a mood like this: back to Kink Central. He takes a seat at the bar and numbs his overactive mind with liquor, repeatedly fending off the advances of various Jades—including the Jade he ditched last time he was here.

  Three hours into his binge, he becomes aware of a figure sitting down on the stool beside him. He glances over, expecting to see another Jade …

  Wrong.

  It’s a thirty-something-year-old woman—a Fringer, but not a whore—who’s blind in one eye. A second ticks by, and then … a flash of recognition.

  Maddie King.

  Alexander’s mother.

  Gabriel turns his attention back to his drink. “What do you want?”

  “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

  “We’re not friends.” He takes a sip of his most recent measure of whiskey. “You’re usually the first one to remind me of that.”

  “True. It is hard to be friendly with a man who singlehandedly brought ruin down upon your life.”

  “You brought the ruin down upon yourself, I merely expedited it.”

  “You set me up.”

  “You tried to blackmail me.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Everyone has a choice, Maddie.”

  “Mitch’s banishment left me destitute.”

  “I guess that’s what you get when you marry a pedophile.”

  Maddie beats him with her fists, but she’s drunk and weak and the pummeling has little effect. He barely even flinches, and makes no effort at all to stop her.

  “Do you think I would’ve married him if I knew?!” She beats him one more time. “Do you think I would’ve given him a child?!”

  “Love is a crazy thing.”

  Maddie snorts. “You should know. You’re its biggest slave.”

  “I feel more like its whipping boy.”

  She leans in close and Gabriel grimaces, shoving her away from him. She stinks of piss, cigarettes and liquor.

  “I heard about Loralei Cross,” she taunts him, her lips curled upward in a vulgar grin.

  “And?”

  “It really is true what they say: what goes around surely does come around.”

  “Is that why you’re here pestering me? You’ve come to gloat?”

  “It’s about time you had something you love taken away from you.”

  “What happened to Lora was a tragedy,” he growls at her. “It wasn’t karmic retribution for your banishment!”

  “No? Then why is the symmetry so perfect? You tore me away from my child, and now you get to stand back and watch another man raise yours. She is your child, isn’t she, Gabriel?”

  “It didn’t have to be like this.” He shakes his head. “I warned you to back off.”

  “I was trying to keep food in my son’s mouth.”

  Gabriel smashes his glass down on the tabletop. “You should’ve kept your nose out! What went on between Lora and I was none of your damn business!”

  Maddie reflects on that for a minute. “I can’t say that I’m sorry for you, but I do pity the child in all of this.”

  “Come again?”

  “No child deserves to grow up without a mother.”

  Silence.

  Finally, “How is he?”

  Gabriel downs the rest of his drink. “He was just accepted into the Hunter Division Junior Academy.”

  Maddie’s eyes widen. “How dare you, you meddling bastard.”

  “He’s going to be a Cadet.”

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” She glares at him in disbelief.

  “What now?”

  “Making other people into what you want them to be.”

  “Lora wanted him enrolled. It was for his own good.”

  “What do you know of the good for your own child, never mind that of another’s?”

  “I know that boy needs all the help he can get to rise above the stigma of his crappy genetics, and I intend to give it to him.”

  Outraged, Maddie rises from her bar stool. “Despite what you might think, you don’t always know best.”

  *************************

  Veva leaves for work and finds Gabriel’s car parked outside her house. She recognizes it immediately. It’s his company car, and it bears the plate DG1. Stepping closer, she places her hand against the hood.

  It’s cold.

  He’s been parked out here all night.

  Peering in through the window, she finds him slumped in the driver’s seat, his Hunter Division jacket draped over him. The passenger seat is cluttered with empty cigarette packets, old betting tickets, and an empty bottle of illegal Old World whiskey.

  Rolling her eyes, she knocks on the window and shakes him out of a deep sleep. When he winds down the window, he releases the stench of stale alcohol and cigarettes.

  Repulsed by the odor, Veva takes a step back.

  “What are you doing here, Gabe? You’re a mess.”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “Go home.”

  He tries to open the door, but she pushes it closed on him.

  “I don’t have time for this. I’m late for work.”

  He reaches for her hand, but she withdraws and folds her arms defensively.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she chides him. “Don’t you have a job to go to?”

  “I took some personal time.”

  “It might be a bit late for self-reflection. The damage has already been done.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “So am I.”

  Silence.

  Veva checks her watch. “I really have to go.”

  She turns to walk away, but Gabriel calls her back. “Can I take you out for dinner tonight?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Drinks?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Coffee? During your lunch break.”

  She’s beginning to cave, he can see it in her face.

  “We’ll just talk. Nothing more,” he persists. “I need you to give me a chance to make this right.”

  “Five minutes,” she relents. “If you come during my lunch hour, I’ll give you five of my precious minutes, but that’s all. Okay?”

  Gabriel nods. “I’ll be there.”

  “And I’m not making any promises,” she warns him, wagging a disciplinary finger in his direction. “You’re an incorrigible prick and I should hate you for what you’ve done.”

  “But?”

  “But nothing.” She sighs. “Don’t be late.”

  She turns her back on him and leaves.

  She wishes she could cut him out of her thoughts completely, but as the morning drags on, she finds herself ever more consumed by him. During reading hour, her mind wanders. Lost in a daydream, she jolts back to reality when the school bell rings for recess.

  She dismisses her class, her cheeks flushing with color at the realization that she’s aroused. As they file out of the room, she uncrosses and crosses her legs beneath her desk, trying to get comfortable. She can’t even begin to fathom how it’s still possible for a man who broke her heart so cruelly to spark such an intense physical reaction.

  Pushing those thoughts to the very
back of her mind, she takes a deep breath and follows the children out into the schoolyard. It’s a bright, sunny day, and almost the entire faculty is taking advantage of the nice weather.

  The children play and chase and laugh, while the teachers congregate in small groups and gossip about their students, their spouses, or their affairs. Deliberately, Veva keeps to herself. Would Gabriel show up? What could he possibly say that would make any difference? She paces the schoolyard, becoming acutely aware that she’s nervous.

  How ridiculous.

  Nervous of what? She keeps telling herself that all she has to do is hold the line: remain true to her principles and not let him win her over too easily.

  But that’s easier said than done.

  He has a way with her, and she finds it almost impossible to resist him. He could win her over just by looking at her, and that’s what she’s really afraid of. She’s afraid that she’s not strong enough to stand up against him. She’s afraid that, no matter what, she’ll always melt into his embrace with too much ease.

  She’s his.

  She’s always been his.

  At that moment, the schoolyard falls eerily silent.

  Veva looks around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sudden mass diversion of attention, and there, on the school boundary line, stands Gabriel.

  He’s showered and shaved, and dressed in a clean uniform, holding a bunch of flowers.

  “Shit,” Veva mumbles under her breath.

  Her heart hammers inside her chest as he approaches. She’d give anything not to feel this way about him, but feelings of lust and love overwhelm her every time she sees him. It’s been that way for as long as she can remember.

  When he reaches her, he offers her the flowers.

  In front of almost the entire faculty, she dare not refuse them. She takes them from him—albeit hesitantly—and opens her mouth to speak … but she doesn’t get the chance to even formulate a thought before he drops to his knees in front of her.

  Fuck.

  Every other teacher in the yard is staring, and she can feel their jealousy seeping through the air. The Deputy General is on his knees, begging for her to accept him.

  The Deputy General.

  Begging.

  Her.

  His desperation is palpable.

  Just when she thought the display couldn’t possibly get any more provocative, he leans forward and presses his forehead against her, his hands on her thighs. Her mind is screaming for her to extricate herself from his grasp, but she’s frozen to the spot.