Page 55 of The Beast

“I saw her, Travis.” The words ripped out of him before he could stop them. “I saw her standing over me. I saw her eyes. They’re pretty damn unique. I heard her say⁠—”

He stopped. Swallowed hard.

Travis waited.

“She said surprise.” Gabriel’s voice was barely a whisper. “We’d talked about her throwing me a surprise party. A private conversation. Just the two of us. And she stood over me in the that cabin and said surprise before she pulled the trigger.”

Travis was quiet for a long moment. “You never told me that.”

“Never told you that she was wearing her mother’s gold ring, too. It gleamed in the lamplight. I think that’s the last thing I saw before I blacked out.”

“Why hold that back?”

Gabriel laughed—harsh, broken. “You’re still a lawman at heart, buddy, and with evidence like that, you might have called in a friend. But I don’t want the law. I want—” He stopped. Pressed his palm against the bar, steadying himself. “I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to be the one who destroyed her.”

“Wanted,” Travis repeated. “And now?”

Gabriel stared at the painting on the wall. At her face, rendered in shadow and longing. At the woman reaching for light she couldn’t touch.

“Now I don’t know what I want.”

“Yeah.” Travis moved to Gabriel’s side, then clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s what I thought.”

He headed for the door. Paused with his hand on the frame. “You know what I think? I think you’ve been so focused on revenge that you never stopped to ask if you were right.”

“Her eyes,” Gabriel said. “Her ring. Surprise.”

Travis just shrugged. “Someone wanted you dead. Maybe they wanted to set her up, too.”

Gabriel scoffed. “She’s gotten under your skin.”

“She has. And I’m a damn good judge of character. I chose to save you, didn’t I?”

Gabriel flashed an ironic smile. “Not sure that supports your case.”

“It does,” Travis said softly. “All those conversations we’d had before the fire whenever you came into the store? You’re a good man, Gabe, whether you believe it or not. Usually level-headed, too. But about her? She’s your kryptonite, son. You love her too much to see straight. And you love her enough that if you hurt her, it’s going to kill you when you finally realize you’re wrong.”

“And if you’re the one who’s wrong?”

“Then I’ll eat my words. But if you find out she didn’t do those things, well, you might just have to remember how to be happy.”

He paused at the threshold and turned back to Gabe. “By the way, ever heard of contact lenses? They come in a variety of colors. And in case you’re wondering, surprise is a pretty common word.”

Then he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Gabriel sat still for a long time, staring at the painting. At her face. At the eyes—one green, one blue—that had haunted him for five years.

Surprise.

His gut twisted. Had he really gotten it wrong?

He’d been so certain. The eyes. The word. The money. The cabin. Every piece fit together like a puzzle designed to destroy him.

But tonight, standing in front of him, her voice had been different. Raw. Desperate. I still love you, Gabriel. I never stopped.

The same voice that said “surprise” in that low-almost whisper before shooting him?

Or not?