Part 8 (1/2)

”I did have the opportunity to meet Xavier Sanchez tonight. Are you positive that he's guilty, or is he just suspected of committing certain crimes? I wouldn't want to kill a man because a legal business rival hired us.” I need to be sure before I hurt Gabriel in such a life-altering way. Standing across from me, Jackson's resting his arms on the back of the chair he was occupying earlier, waiting for the answer along with me.

Simon sighs on the other end of the phone. ”Annabelle, you know I always double check what the client tells me. I'm absolutely positive that Xavier Sanchez is in need of a bullet to the head.” He confirms what I already know deep down. Just by meeting Xavier, I could tell what kind of man he is. I've been around enough bad guys to know one when I see one.

”Thanks, Simon. Here's Jackson.” I hand the phone over, getting up out of my chair to get a bottle of water out from the fridge. Jackson goes into his room to have a private conversation with Simon. Right now, I could really give a c.r.a.p what they're talking about. I know Jackson won't tell Simon what's really going on, at least not yet. We both respect Simon, but our loyalty to each other comes first.

The pounding on the suite door makes me jerk and almost drop my gla.s.s. This is getting embarra.s.sing. Whatever happened to my a.s.sa.s.sin nerves of steel? Knowing that it must be Gabriel at the door, I rush to Jackson's room and find him on the balcony. He's no longer on the phone with Simon, just leaning over the railing with the wind whipping his hair around. ”Gabriel's here. I need you to hide.”

”Okay, I'll stay out here.” He plops down on one of the rattan balcony chairs, looking tired. I shut the sliding gla.s.s door behind me, leaving him to hang out on the balcony. I also shut the long curtains, blocking the view of Jackson out there.

When I open the door to Gabriel's pounding, I'm surprised that Max is with him. I smile at them, but Gabriel brushes right past me. ”Where is he?”

”Where's who?” I play dumb.

”That Russian friend of yours.” Gabriel walks into my room, coming back out seconds later.

”Why would he be here?” I ask Gabriel, putting a mask of confusion on my face.

Gabriel walks into Jackson's room and comes out. Thankfully he didn't check the balcony. ”Why? Because he dragged you out of the club tonight and I need to kick his a.s.s for it!” Guess I was wrong in a.s.suming that Gabriel didn't see that happen.

I hesitate only for a moment before saying, ”It was no big deal. He was just worried about me.”

Gabriel scowls. ”Worried about you? Why would he be worried? You were with me.” That almost makes me want to smile, but I'm too stressed out right now. Max is quietly watching our exchange, looking amused.

”Because he's one of my parents' bodyguards.” Jackson isn't gargantuan, but he's big enough for that to be believable. ”That's how I became friends with him. Tonight he saw me hit that a.s.shole at the club and confronted me about it. Once he realized I was drunk, he became upset, knowing that I've never been drunk before. He went into bodyguard mode and dragged me back here,” I explain it slowly, as if what I'm saying is totally logical.

”Why was he driving your car?” Gabriel questions me.

That's actually a good question, one that should have dawned on me to ask Jackson myself. I left my car at Gabriel's house tonight. I'd hope that Jackson wouldn't be crazy enough to retrieve my car off of the estate. But he must have either done that, just to see if he could, or he went and rented a car exactly like the one I'm currently using. If that's the case, he probably has plans to race me in his. Compet.i.tive idiot.

I have to make a quick decision on how to answer this. I go with the second theory, hoping it's the right one. ”It wasn't my car. He just liked mine so much, that he went and got one of his own.”

Gabriel looks skeptical, standing almost toe to toe with me now. ”Your parents must pay their bodyguards well, that car costs over $450,000.” As if I don't know that, silly boy.

”They sure do. Dependable, trustworthy employees are hard to find,” I tell him, latching on to the explanation he gave me an opening for. Even so, lame answers seem to be my forte tonight.

Standing in front of me, staring at my face, as if searching it for the truth, he reminds me of Jackson earlier. He cannot read your mind, Annabelle, and you are a professional, so you better d.a.m.n well start acting like it! After a long moment, he takes a deep breath and pulls me into his arms. ”I'm sorry for being a spaz. I was just worried about you, baby. When I saw him practically drag you out of there, I thought he might hurt you. Bodyguard or not, I'll probably kick his a.s.s for it the next time I see him.”

”I'm sorry you were worried. I should have called you, but when I got back here, I wasn't feeling well from the drinks and just wanted to take a shower and lay down.” I kiss him softly on the cheek, knowing how it always softens him.

”Why didn't you answer your phone?” he squeezes me gently.

”I turned it off earlier tonight while we were at the club. I was just about to call you.” I pray to G.o.d that my phone doesn't start ringing.

Max finally speaks up, ”Um, Gabriel? Do you need a ride home? 'Cause if not, I'm gonna head out.” d.a.m.n, I hope I didn't ruin Max's night. That hooker nurse seemed like a sure thing.

Gabriel looks at me, whispering so Max can't hear, ”After what I've gone through in the past hour, I need to hold you tonight. I think I'll stay the night here, or we could go to my house if you want?”

I don't know if I want to be at Gabriel's house, with his dad there or if I want to stay here, with Jackson here. ”Let's go to your house. Just give me a minute to get dressed and pack a bag.”

”Okay, baby.” Giving me one more squeeze, he releases me and waits in the living room with Max.

Even though I'll be staying at Gabriel's house tonight and will probably have another opportunity to kill Xavier, I know that I won't go through with it yet. Because I also need Gabriel to hold me tonight.

Chapter 11.

Gabriel Leaving Anna's hotel, Max drops us off at my house. Anna's car is still parked in the driveway, so I guess that Russian jerk really does have the same car. She explained to me why he pulled her out of the club, but something still doesn't feel right about it. Anna's ent.i.tled to her secrets, but at some point I hope that she trusts me enough to divulge a few. Maybe she just needs to be softened up a bit. If I show her how much she means to me maybe she'll open up. It seems logical enough.

Once we're in my room with the door locked, she goes into my bathroom and comes back out wearing thin cotton pajamas. She plops down on my bed and I go into the bathroom to get ready for bed myself. When I come out, she's under the covers and lying on her side. I walk over and see that her eyes are closed. Brus.h.i.+ng the back of my fingers over her cheek, I ask quietly, ”Are you asleep, Anna?”

She opens her eyes, rolling over onto her back. ”Not yet.”

I grab her hand and kiss it, rubbing my thumb over her knuckle. ”I'm going to cook you dinner tomorrow at my parents' beach house.”

She gives me a small smile. I'm not sure if I imagine the sadness in it or if it's the play of shadows on her face from the muted lighting. ”That sounds nice. Although I would be just as happy with the fast food we sometimes eat. I wasn't allowed to eat it growing up, too unhealthy.”

”My cooking is better,” I brag.

”Okay.” She shuts her eyes and I lay down next to her with one arm draped over her. When she starts breathing deeply I know she's asleep. I think a romantic dinner is a good start in encouraging Anna to open up. Drifting off to sleep, I plan out the meal I'll make tomorrow.

We wake up the next day a little after noon. After dropping Anna off at her hotel, I go grocery shopping. I used to hang out in the kitchen with our chef when I was younger, before I had better things to do, but I did pick up some cooking knowledge. Getting back to my house, I climb the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs down to the wine cellar and pick a bottle out of my dad's supply. Later, up in my room I take a shower and put on a nice b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt and dark jeans. Looking for my mom afterwards, I find her alone on the back patio, staring out at the pool with an open book face down in her lap.

”Hey mom, where's dad?”

Her sad look answers before her words, ”He left already, business in South America.”

I feel awkward, never knowing whether or not to comfort her when she gets morose over his travels. He's never home, but she still loves him. That's dedication. I'm not so sure I'd have that kind of undying devotion to someone who didn't reciprocate it. ”Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be staying at the beach house tonight.”

She still looks lost in her own thoughts while she replies, ”Okay sweetie, have fun.”

I give her a quick peck on her sun warmed cheek and say, ”I love you, mom,” to cheer her up. My next destination is the kitchen. I grab the grocery bags from the fridge and put them in the backseat of my car. After I pull out of the gate I call Anna. She picks up on the third ring. ”Hey babe, I'm on my way to pick you up.”

”Okay, I'll meet you out front.” She hangs up without saying goodbye. Guess she's as excited as I am. Maybe tonight, if she's ready . . . .