She hated herself, knowing the situation she found herself in was as much her fault as it was his.
It was the shame she lived with as she counted the days until he was released from prison. Damian would only be forty-eight years old when his sentence was over and fully capable of reigniting his obsession with her.
Now they wanted to let him out of Tiverton Maximum Security prison at the age of twenty-eight. No matter how much his lawyer claimed he’d changed, gotten counseling, been a model prisoner, and showed remorse, she would never believe it.
She had to stop them from making a horrible mistake.
“We’re all proud of you for doing this. I can’t imagine how hard it’s going to be. Just know that you have an army of women worldwide who have your back and will be cheering you on.” Stacy said, heading down the hallway toward the airplane hangar.
“Thanks. I appreciate the encouragement.” Gabrielle swiped her cell phone and journal from the coffee table, tossed them in her purse, and then stood next to Stacy.
The woman wasn’t wrong.
Returning to St. Felipe after she’d been banished to Lisbon a decade ago hadn’t been high on her priority list. Especially not after her family was rocked by the disappearance of her parents’ plane in Africa two years ago. The islands no longer felt like her home or a place she belonged.
Until she found out about the parole hearing.
The encouraging messages had poured in from the moment she’d posted her video online about the reasons she was going home. She wished the strength her supporters sent was enough, though. The courage she displayed in public was only a facade. The possibility of Damian Hester being released scared the shit out of her.
But she wouldn’t let fear control her anymore.
The mantra that had defined her self-healing from the tragedy of her past was rooted deep within her. The girl Damian kidnapped a decade ago didn’t exist anymore. The woman she was now would fight like hell to make sure he knew he could never hurt her again. She would do whatever it took to keep that bastard in prison for his entire sentence. She had emerged anew with endless strength to fight him.
Gabrielle followed Stacy down the hallway to the front waiting area, then stopped as she headed toward the entrance door. A black limousine idled out front with lights shining through the glass. “Don’t we go out through the hangar to get to the airplane?” Gabrielle pointed back toward the opposite door.
“Oh, I thought you’d already been told. The plane is delayed and won’t arrive until later this afternoon. The pilot will need to get mandatory rest before taking off again, so you’ll be flying out tomorrow morning instead. The car service is here to take you to the hotel,” Stacy explained.
“No,” Gabrielle said slowly, fighting her annoyance. “I didn’t know I’d have to wait another day before going home.” She reached for her cell phone and followed Stacy to the waiting car.
The delay gave her more time to think … and worry about what she would say to the parole board to convince them not to release Damian Hester from prison.
There was only one person who could help calm her nerves. She glanced at her watch. The clubs were close to closing in Miami at this hour. It could be her best chance.
As she headed out the doors and approached the SUV, Gabrielle called her brother, Ike. She hoped he would answer this time.
Chapter2
“Not like that.” Sebastian Luttrell shook his head as he pressed off the wall and joined the teenage boys in the center of the gym. The King Community Center was empty at this hour of the morning, with most of the kids using the facilities for after-school activities.
As the steady thumping beats of the latest Coco song, Sweetie Badness, bounced off the walls, Sebastian executed a quick top rock and hip twist, then transitioned into a windmill spin on the floor.
The boys erupted in awed yells as they clapped and pumped their fists. Sebastian slowed as he balanced on one arm, spinning his body around without touching the floor in a signature hand glide before stopping in a halo freeze. “The key to this move is how long you can hold the position with only the strength of your arm. You keep falling out of the move because you have weak ass abdominal muscles and no fucking arm strength. You gotta hit the weights if you have a chance in hell of doing this move.”
“Dude, I can’t believe you’re still in that position and talking to us at the same time!” One of the teenagers said, his mouth gaping open.
“That’s dope,” the other responded, shaking his head. “I’ll never be able to do that.”
Sebastian lowered out of the position and turned toward them. “Never say never.” He glanced down at his watch. “Lesson is over. Get out of here before you’re late for school.”
The boys moaned and complained as they shuffled toward a mound of backpacks piled in the corner of the gym. The doors swung open and then banged shut as the teens exited the building.
Sebastian stretched as he walked toward the stereo system and turned the music off. Leaning over the counter, he reached into the back pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out the smooth card made of dark metal. Turning it over and over between his fingers, he gazed at the outline of the stingray. A heavy weight settled over him, replacing the exhilaration he felt from breakdancing.
“I still have my card, too.”
Sebastian jumped and turned around. “What the fuck, Kane! You damn near gave me a heart attack.”
Kane raised his hands, grinning. “I see the PISCO brainwashing hasn’t worn off. Can’t believe you were dancing with a Glock in your pocket. Put that thing down.”
