Page 94 of Dirty Pool

That killed her more.

Because he would do it.

She knew it.

Gabbie was left with only one option. Just like her father said, really. His option. Because otherwise, it meant sacrificing Michel’s life simply because she wanted him.

That was the thing …

She couldn’t do that.

Not when she loved him.

• • •

“Don’t move,” the man at Gabbie’s back hissed. His fingers tightened around her arm, forcing her to stay hidden in the shadows just beyond the entry hallway to her father’s home. Every part of her was screaming to fight, to go to the man in the doorway just ten feet away, but she couldn’t move at all. “Stay right where you are, lass. You heard the boss.”

Right.

Charles wasn’t even her da anymore.

He was just the boss.

“You have a death wish, lad,” her father said.

For the first time in a month, Gabbie heard Michel’s voice. She had no idea what brought him here to her father’s home. They’d been in the midst of yet another awkward dinner when one of the men watching the house came rushing inside. His gaze had darted from her at one end of the table, to her father at the other side.

Then, he uttered, “Michel.”

Just like that.

Her immediate thought was simply no. There was no way in hell Michel had come to her father. Not to look for her, or otherwise. He was not a stupid man. At the same time, she couldn’t say for sure if that was true.

Because love was crazy.

It made you do crazy things.

Gabbie inched closer to the hallway, but the man kept his grip firm to keep her back. “Let me go.”

“No way, Gabbie.”

She closed her eyes, and willed the pain in her heart to go away so she could think. It was physically painful to be this close to Michel, yet not be able to look him in the eyes or speak to him. She’d had a whole month of worrying about him, and considering every single possible scenario that could be going on with him.

Every bad, horrible thing.

“Not a death wish,” she heard Michel say to her father, “more like a … an offer. Information, even. And you can do with it what you want, but I think you also have something I want, and I would like to talk about that. Because that’s the problem here, isn’t it? You think I picked the wrong side, when in fact, I haven’t taken any side. Yet.”

Charles cleared his throat. “What kind of information?”

“Your men—they said all the Italians want is a war. They weren’t wrong, but it’s got fuck all to do with what I was doing with your daughter, even if they want to spin it that way. It’s all about what they can get from you.”

“That’s all it ever is with your kind of mutt.”

Gabbie flinched at the insult.

Michel kept talking like it didn’t bother him at all. “I was simply a reason they could use to cause an issue. And when that issue continued to spiral into a worse situation, well, what would be the harm of feeding into it? If it meant they could finally get a stronger hold on the city when it’s always been the Irish who had it before them?”

“Your information isn’t something that helps me, lad,” Charles replied, unaffected, “but I suspect you already know that.”