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“I think it might be good for you to eat. I think... whoever you’re waiting for would appreciate your eating?”
I nod, and Mrs. Shaw fixes us a snack, a beautiful charcuterie board with dried fruits and nuts, a number of cheeses, sliced summer sausage, sliced ham, and an array of crackers. She humsas she goes, and I listen to her, doing everything I can not to think about what happened.
Time ticks on, that clock never stopping. The TV plays, and it turns to white noise in the background. I can’t help but look between my phone and the door, my hands gripping the throw blanket to keep me from calling him.
All the while, Mrs. Shaw reminds me that it’s alright and for me to simply wait.
Hours pass, and just as fear and dread compete to take over, the buzzer at the entrance buzzes once quickly, then four longer buzzes. “Ah, that’s Mr. Joshua,” Mrs. Shaw says, standing up and brushing off her apron.
I turn from where I’m sitting so I can see the door, and the moment it opens, every ounce of composure slips. I leap to my feet as Gabriel comes in with a tall, broad-shouldered man. I practically run across the room to embrace him. “Gabriel!”
His scent, his warmth, and his touch are a soothing balm. I murmur, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I’ve never been so sorry in my entire life.
“Shh... it’s okay,” he says, but his voice is deeply grim. He kisses me on the forehead and releases me to introduce his friend I’ve heard so much about. “Kiersten, this is Joshua.”
“I wish this had happened in happier circumstances,” Joshua says, and I recognize the voice from the club. We’ve only spoken in passing, but still, I’ve met the man. Never anything else, though. “Has Mrs. Shaw seen to your needs?”
“Mr. Joshua!” Mrs. Shaw feigns a protest, and Joshua gives her a kind look.
“I was just checking, Lynn. I’m certain that you took good care of our guest.” Seeing me and Gabriel, he gestures to Mrs. Shaw. “Let us give them a moment.”
Reality settles in as they leave, and Gabriel looks at me sadly. “Are you okay?”
“No.” I sniffle, fighting back tears. “Gabriel, I... I can’t ... I don’t know.”
“Shh,” he says, still sad. “I want you to forget what happened. Don’t ever think about it again.”
His voice sounds like it just dropped ten degrees, and my eyes widen with disbelief. “What? How?” Just forget? How could I possibly just forget?
“Kiersten, I—”
“Gabriel, we need to talk,” Joshua says softly before glancing at me.
Gabriel merely nods and then suggests that I wait for him where I was. I’m slow to take my seat back as they have a hushed conversation. I hear bits of it, and I’m all too aware that I shouldn’t be listening. But I do. No matter what Gabriel says, I’ll never be able to forget.
“I just got a call from Goldman. He’s saying that it’ll take some favors, but he can bury it... for now.”
Gabriel nods and looks at Joshua. “For now?”
“His advice, and I quote, is to not poke at the wound. Let it heal with time... maybe.”
GABRIEL
The Past, December
The dining room at Paul’s Steakhouse is too quiet, with all eyes on me apart from the constant tapping of my thumb on the white-clothed table. The anxiousness that rides through me is very much warranted. Of course, that’s usually the case, but this time they’re being more surreptitious, more hidden. But I’m a student of behavior, and the more they consciously avert their eyes, the more that I know they’re thinking about me.
The question I have is, are they sharks circling the prey, sensing blood in the water? Or are they vultures, looking to swoop in on my already dead carcass?
Because I’m not dead yet. I’m not going down without a fight. Because if I go down... they’ll come after Kiersten.
“Gabriel.”
I clear my throat and look across the table at Joshua, whose brow arches with concern. “I noticed that we’re the center of attention. Not exactly wanted today.”
“I suppose not.” The adrenaline hasn’t waned. My hands nearly tremble knowing what we’re here for. I’ve done a number of selfish, greedy ... even cruel things in my life. But I’ve never killed someone. I’ve never gotten away with murder before... and I’m not certain I will now.
While I have enough connections to have Ivan’s death left open down at police headquarters without my arrest, that doesn’t mean that I’m free and clear. The last thing I want to do is call in a favor. I’d rather handle this as quietly as possible. Rumors will spread. Sacrifices will be made. Which is why I’m meeting with Joshua.
