The King (Gentlemen Rogues 2)

“Fuck you."

"I know you have a better vocabulary than that."

I flipped him the bird, and he smirked. That one expression made him look five years younger. He looked like my Gabe again.

“It's done. You got your way, or whatever."

“You think I want you to be alone? I don't, because I know one day I’m going to the field and I’m not coming back. For the last two years I have held myself apart from you because I didn't want you getting even more attached in case something happened to me. When our parents died, it put everything in disarray. There are always people jockeying for power. I’m trying to protect your legacy.”

“It's too late for that because my heart is already broken."

Gabe took my hands. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is keep you safe. You were ready for the field six months after Mum and Dad died. You were so focused. Single-minded. You knew exactly what you wanted.”

I frowned at that. “I’m not so sure. In retrospect, I don't think I was. It was harder than I expected knowing everyone was dependent on me.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. No one is ever ready.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. "So this whole time, you've known about Lock?"

Gabe shrugged. "He made you smile. Not in a fake, blank way that you give to strangers on the streets, but that real one I remember in all the home videos where we'd both peek out and your eyes crinkled and you were truly happy. You think you two are slick? I could see it every time you smiled at him, every time he smiled at you. It was really gross, just so you know."

"Why did you let it continue? You must have known where it was going. You must have known that I was going to fall for him."

He shrugged. “You'd already lost so much. I couldn't stand to take it away from you. Look, for the record, I just tried to do the right thing. He cares for you."

“Don't give me that bullshit."

"He does. He gave you something that I couldn't give you. More than a sense of normalcy. He gave you room to breathe. I know I’ve held on a little tight since Mum and Dad died."

"A little?"

"Okay, a lot. But that was my job. I was supposed to hold on tight. I held on tight so you could have some freedom. But Lock gave you more than that.”

"What bullshit. If he cared, he would have trusted me."

Gabe ran his hands through his hair. “Fucking hell, you don't give an inch, do you?"

"Should I?"

"No, you shouldn't. I have been overbearing and overprotective. I have undermined your friendships, your relationships, your joining the agency. This is all my fault."

“This doesn't change anything. I still made the choice in the field that nearly got everyone killed because I went after Graciella. All you're doing now is telling me that it wasn't worth it. The joke was on me all along. So yeah, I’m not really interested."

“I understand you should know the truth. He does love you. And if you have someone like him, I wouldn't worry so much about when something happens to me. He won't leave you alone. I know that’s your biggest fear. When they died, you tried to stopped needing anyone. Hell, you wouldn't even let me come and get you. You packed up your shit and left Pittsburgh and made it all the way back here on your own. I know that was a trauma response, or whatever Madeline and the rest of the shrinks would call it, but you wouldn't even let me help. You're so fucking independent it's scary. You have every right to be angry. I'm just saying cut Lock some slack. And cut yourself some too, Saff. The only problem I ever had with Mum and Dad was the amount of pressure they put on you. They didn't even know they were doing it. Mum would always say things like, 'Ah, that's my Saff, just like her mama.' And it was building you up to want so much to be like them that you put all this pressure on yourself to be perfect. I know that you deal with things that I don't deal with. I'm a white man in espionage. My ticket is written. I know yours isn't. I'm not a fool. You carry around so much, and I wanted to take some of the burden off. But it was the wrong call. Lock made a wrong call in the Winston Isles too, but it made me give him another chance. Because everything he did, he did because he loves you."

The image of Lock attempting to paint my toenails was not one I needed. The image of Lock holding my hand and traipsing me through the old town market was not one I needed. The image of Lock holding on tight, and whispering my name as we talked about his brother and my parents and things we missed in the hushed hours of daylight… I didn't need those. Not at all. I didn't want them.

I knew the truth. He didn’t love me. Not enough anyway.