Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

“We’ll need a receptionist,” she says, “and a vet nurse, maybe even a bookkeeper, and a makeover. A nicer reception area. I’d like to run a rescue center in conjunction with the practice. We have enough space in the back where the vegetable garden used to be. God knows, I don’t have time to plant a blade of grass, anyway.”

I can’t help but laugh at her contagious enthusiasm. “Slow down. We’ll first need a financial plan.”

“We?” She puts down her knife and fork. “Does that mean you’re in?”

“All right, I’m in.”

She grabs my hand on the one side and Charlie’s on the other. “The three musketeers.”

“The three of us,” I echo.

“Way to go, kiddo.”

Charlie, who picks up on the vibe, chants with Kris. “Way to go–go.” Laughter transforms his face. For a moment, he looks exactly like he did at the age of fifteen, before the accident.

I cup his cheek. “You like being a dog walker, don’t you?”

He agrees by banging the end of his knife on the table until I have to put my hand on his arm to still him.

“Finish up,” I tell him. “Kris has to go back to work.”

She looks at my untouched food. “Still feeling queasy?”

“Yep. There’s no telling when it will pass. I wish I was one of those lucky women who only felt sick during the first trimester or not at all.” A thought strikes me. “I hope I won’t let you down when it gets time to deliver this baby. Nobody in their right mind will employ a pregnant woman, let alone for such an important job.”

“We’ll work around it. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” I mean it. Kris has always been my lifebuoy, and she’s just thrown me a big one, thanks to Gabriel.

She pushes her plate aside. “How are things going at home?”

“Good.” I can’t help the smile or heat that creeps onto my face when I think about Gabriel’s reaction this morning. “Wonderful, actually.”

Her brow lifts. “Really?”

“Why do you ask as if it’s impossible?”

“Wonderful in what sense?”

“Gabriel is good to me. He’s kind, attentive, generous, loving…”

“Loving?”

“Yes.”

“You forgot to mention controlling, possessive, and jealous.”

“Yes, he’s controlling, but in a protective way.” He’d also threatened my best friend’s life, but she doesn’t need to know. As long as I stick to my end of the bargain, Gabriel will keep his word. “Let’s not forget this new practice management wouldn’t be possible without his generosity.”

“True, he does a hell of a good job of taking care of you, but that’s material.”

“As I said, there’s more to him than his money.”

“You fell for him.”

There’s no more denying it. “You know I have.”

“De–dessert,” Charlie says, licking his plate clean.

“Don’t do that,” I chastise. “It’s not polite.”

“There’s flan in the fridge,” Kris says without turning her attention away from me. “Help yourself, Charlie.” She takes my hand again. “Val, what are you doing? Playing house?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s nothing but role play if he doesn’t love you. Does he?”

I avert my eyes. “Probably not.”

There’s understanding and sympathy in her tone. “There’s your answer.”

“The thing is we’re living together, we’re legally married, and we’re going to have a baby. Most of the time, we’re happy. I’m not going to fight it any longer.” Anyway, I don’t have a choice. “We can’t always have everything we want, but we can be happy with what we have.”

“Okay.” She squeezes my fingers and lets go of my hand. “I’m behind you. One hundred percent. No more questions asked.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“I may not agree with what Gabriel does for a living, but I’m grateful to him for pulling you out of Berea. That area is only getting worse. With Jerry being murdered and everything that––”

“What?” I grab her arm, my fingers digging into her flesh. “What did you say?”

“Shit. You didn’t know.”

“Jerry?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Yesterday. I’m sorry, Val. I thought Gabriel told you.” She adds apologetically, “Maybe he doesn’t know.”

Gabriel must know. Berea is his territory. He knows about everything that happens there. A sickening knowledge grows in my gut.

“How?” I ask.

“Shot between the eyes. A neighbor found him in his flat.”

“Do they have a suspect?”

“The newspaper article didn’t say. I don’t think the police are going to make a big effort for a car thief murdered in Berea.”

They won’t. A killing happens every twenty-five minutes. Jerry is one thief less to deal with, and nobody cares if his killer is caught.

Suffocation hangs like a cloak over me. The air in Kris’ kitchen is suddenly too thick to breathe.

Checking my watch, I keep my face even. “We’ll let you get back to work. Thanks for lunch.” I’m already on my feet, clearing the table.

“Leave that for me,” Kris says. “I’ll do it tonight.”

“I’m not letting you come home to a dirty kitchen.”

With Charlie’s help the dishes are done and dried by the time Kris is ready to reopen the practice. I walk to the car on shaky legs, barely conscious of what’s happening around me. Gabriel’s guards parked across the road acknowledge me and get into their cars when we do. I make sure Charlie is buckled up and drag a few deep breaths into my lungs. Alone with Charlie who won’t notice, I let the truth crash over me. My hands shake on the wheel as what Kris keeps on reminding me––the same thing I ignored and tried to forget––hits me hard.