“He doesn’t need it from Gabriel Miller. The man’s a fucking criminal.”
“I know that.” My stomach turns over. “But Daddy wasn’t innocent either. That came out in the trial.”
Justin snorts. “The trial. It was a fucking sham. The whole prosecutor’s office is in Miller’s pocket.”
That’s not possible, is it? Daddy maintained his innocence until the end. Until the attack, when he’d almost lost his ability to speak at all. There’d been so much evidence, though.
And Gabriel Miller has more money than God. He can make anything happen.
Except that honesty is the most important thing to him. He keeps his father’s last bottle of moonshine to remind him of how much he believes in the truth. He wouldn’t have given false documents. Wouldn’t have lied to me.
Unless everything was a lie, even his supposed belief in honesty.
I take a step back. “You need to leave.”
“Are you listening to me?” he asks, his eyes wild. “The man’s a fucking monster.”
I had that thought in the theater, but somehow it’s different when Justin says it. More offensive. Less true. “You don’t know him.”
“Oh fuck.” Justin laughs. “You aren’t falling for him, are you?”
The air seems thin, because I’m terrified that he’s right. It’s horrible. Impossible. “Of course not. But a deal’s a deal. And they take their promises seriously in this criminal business. That’s what got Daddy into this mess.”
“What do you think they’re going to prosecute you for, your virginity? It’s fucking gone. Done. Even Gabriel Miller isn’t going to bring his whore to court.”
I flinch. This was the man I had been going to marry. Whore.
“Leave, Justin.” I pull the towel tighter around me. “Now.”
He seems to realize what he said. “Avery—”
“No. I know you mean well, but this isn’t going to work. I need the money from the auction. Daddy needs it. And if Gabriel finds you here, he’s going to be pissed.”
“Pissed,” comes a low voice from behind me. “That’s an understatement.”
I whirl and face an enraged Gabriel Miller, his face twisted into a snarl. My hands go up in automatic defense. I don’t think he’s going to hurt me, but he might hurt Justin. However much he betrayed me by breaking off our engagement, he doesn’t deserve to be injured.
“Please.”
Gabriel looks incredulous. “You’re begging for his life?”
Panic beats in my chest. Would Gabriel kill him? “He hasn’t done anything.”
“He came onto my property. He tried to take what’s mine.”
Me. He means me. I feel lightheaded. “I’m still here. Please.”
He grips my wrist, firm and implacable. He moves me out of the way, and I spin from out of his hold. The towel comes lose, and I use both hands to cover myself.
Two strides. That’s all it takes before Gabriel has Justin by the collar, face turning red, his stance on the ladder precarious at best. I run to them, modesty forgotten, pulling Gabriel’s arm.
“Let him go!”
Gabriel makes a growling sound. “I’d bury him in the woods. No, I’d leave him out. Let the wolves take care of him. No one would ever find his body.”
Justin’s eyes are wide and full of fear. “Stop,” he wheezes. “Know. The. Truth.”
“The truth?” Gabriel asks, his voice deadly soft.
God, doesn’t Justin realize how close he is to death? Threatening Gabriel Miller with the truth will only make him angrier. No matter what happened with my father, I know that Gabriel cares about honesty.
And Justin’s figuring it out too as the life squeezes out of him. His eyes are glazed over. Gabriel doesn’t even have to suffocate him. He only has to let go. Disoriented, dizzy, Justin would fall to his death.
“I’ll be good,” I promise, my voice low and serious. I’m grasping at Gabriel’s white shirt—he hasn’t changed, I realize, since the theater. He’s still wearing his tuxedo shirt. It doesn’t matter how hard I pull, I’ll never move him. He’s made of stone.
What can I do?
What can I give him?
The string. My very sanity. “I’ll play with you. I’ll play chess.”
Justin makes horrible wheezing sounds, his limbs flailing. For a horrible moment I think he’s going to fall, but Gabriel’s hold on the front of his shirt keeps him on the ladder.
Gabriel must have loosened his grip, because Justin’s eyes come into focus, though his face is still red and puffy. “You bastard,” he gasps.
God, he has no survival instinct. “Get out of here,” I whisper.
He glances from me to Gabriel and comes to the right conclusion. On unsteady legs he makes it down the ladder. I watch as he runs across the lawn, through the woods where he must have entered. For a moment I worry about wolves, until I realize that I have my own wild animal to think about.
Gabriel turns to me. “Did you call him?”
“What? No! Check the records if you don’t believe me.”
“Oh, I have,” he says grimly. “Mr. Stewart. And Harper St. Claire, your friend from school. You could have sent a message through her.”