Page 39 of Gabe
Carlos ignores her comment and continues the story. “They moved around a lot, but then the money ran out, and Ned forced Christina to get a job. I’m sure you noticed the bruises on her, as we all did. When we found them, they were living in a small one-bedroom rental house. Rodrigo took the lead and reported that Christina and her son were locked in the bedroom when he arrived. She told him that Ned had gone mental almost six months ago. We assume it was when Dean was reported missing. The abuse started because Christina was caught talking to her mom.”
Everyone is so focused on Carlos that we don’t see Christina standing off to the side until she speaks up. “I was trying to get away from him.”
We all turn toward her, but Tara quickly jumps out of her chair. She is across the room in seconds, wrapping her arms around Christina. “I’m so sorry that you went through that.”
“But… He… You…” Christina can’t get a complete sentence out due to her sobs.
I’ve been in love with Tara for two years, but right now, I fall even more in love with her. It doesn’t matter that she was also a victim of Ned’s, not to her, not in this moment. In this moment, Tara is affected by the abuse Christina endured in the past and is comforting her because she is nothing short of an angel. She has a huge heart that has been touched by darkness, but she didn’t let that take away from her humanity. Her ability to empathize with others who have been hurt might be her biggest quality that I adore.
“Did you ever find out who was helping him?” Tara asks without letting a sobbing Christina go.
“From what we have found, he was getting money from an offshore account. We’re trying to figure out who started the account and who eventually closed it, but so far, nothing,” Demon answers, as he is the one who has been focusing on this.
“Where is he?” Christina’s sobbing is quieting down now, and her hold on Tara seems to be lessening.
“In the basement,” I speak up for the first time.
Tara looks over her shoulder at me. Her eyes have darkened with rage, and my dick twitches. It might make me fucked up, but yes, I do get turned on when my girl turns dark and dangerous. I absolutely love watching her exact her revenge, and I won’t be ashamed about it.
Tara turns back toward Christina and pulls her face up. “Listen to me. I’m going to go destroy that little cockroach andmake sure that he can’t hurt you anymore. I promise I’m going to make it hurt for him.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
TARA
Idon’t know if it’s just human nature or if humans are sometimes so stupid that we forget how dangerous the world can be. I always knew that there were evil people in this world. I mean, how could I turn a blind eye when I grew up with an abusive mother? I’m ashamed to admit that after I escaped her cruelty, I thought nothing bad would touch me. I had already had my fair share of bad stuff, so surely I would be set for the rest of my life.
But then Dean and Ned stumbled into my life. Because of these two cockroaches, I’ve had my eyes opened to just how depraved some people are. They hide in plain sight, blending into society and tricking everyone they meet. The pain and destruction they leave behind is never a thought on their mind. Not until someone like me comes along and forces them to face the consequences of their actions.
I excuse myself and walk Christina upstairs. She is eerily quiet, but that’s okay with me. I’m not going to ask any questions, nor am I going to force her to talk about what she went through. If she wants to talk, I will be here for her. Whether she realizes it or not, she is now a member of my growing family, and I’m going to take care of her and her son as well.
I steer her toward the guest bathroom and open the door. Like the master bathroom, there is also an oversized clawfoot tub in here. “I want you to run yourself a nice hot bath. I’m going to go grab you some bubbles and a bath bomb. In that cabinet,” I point to the floor-to-ceiling cabinet beside the tub. “There are clean towels, extra soap, shampoo and conditioner. I want you to spend at least the next hour here. When the water gets cold, refill the tub. Turn on some music or maybe an audiobook, and just turn your brain off.”
“But Henry?—”
“I’ll watch him,” Jessie says from the hallway. Christina and I turn to look at him, both of us gasping in shock. This man should not be able to sneak up on anyone with how big he fucking is, but that’s a talent of his.
Christina’s eyes bounce between me and Jessie. I lay my hand on her shoulder and put her at ease. “Henry will be safe with Jessie. I promise you that I trust him and all the men downstairs with my life.” She looks at Jessie for only a second before she drops her gaze to the floor and nods.
I turn her back toward the tub and give her a little push. Stepping out into the hallway, I nod at Jessie and head to grab the stuff I told Christina I would. After setting her up in the bath, I head back downstairs. I pass all the guys still sitting at the table and head straight for the door to the basement. I hear their chairs scraping the floor as they all scramble to follow me.
I don’t need anyone to guide me because I’ve been down here before. It’s the same layout as Reed’s. The basement is a simple square shape with two rooms on each side of a small hallway. Three rooms are designed to hold people, while the first room on the left is where Gabe keeps all his knives, guns, and anything else he might need to get information out of someone. Each room is equipped with cameras; the only way into the roomsare through a fingerprint scanner. One that is programmed to recognize my thumb.
The lock to the weapons room beeps after a second, and I push it open. The lights come on automatically, and I walk to the middle of the room to glance around. My go-to weapon of choice is my trusted butterfly knife, but I have been known to use a gun once or twice when I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around. I pay no mind to the men standing around the door watching me. I focus on picking the right tool to get the desired results.
Fuck it. I stride forward and grab a random serrated knife off one wall. I snatch up a handgun and check the clip before reinserting it. I look around to find an extra clip and see one right beside where the gun was resting. The last thing I take before leaving the room is a blowtorch.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I say, but my eyes are glued to Gabe. The sea of men part, allowing me to exit the room. “Which?—”
“This one, Princess,” Gabe says, striding forward and laying his thumb against the scanner on the door to the last room on the right wall.
These rooms, hell, the whole basement, are soundproof. So we don’t hear the sobbing until the door opens, and my lips lift in a wild grin. I hold up the blowtorch and ask, “Would one of you possibly have a light?”
“I’ve got you,” Gabe says, taking the torch from me. The hiss of the gas being turned on fills the space surrounding us, and then the whoosh as Gabe lights it.
Finally, I step inside and get my first look at the man who started all of this. Why do all these men break down and act like children when they get caught? I’ve always found it interesting that the hardest men crumble the easiest. In my humble opinion, that means that they were never men, just pretending to be.
