Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno 3)
Julia seemed shocked. “He finally dumped her. I would have thought he’d keep her on the side, but perhaps his father told him to cut her loose.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me. The election is next year.”
“Now there’s a wedding.” Julia shook her head. “Nothing like a little matrimonial window dressing to make the campaign appear more family friendly. I just wish Natalie would leave me out of it.”
“You’re in it. At least for now.” Gabriel’s mouth settled into a grim line. “I think it’s safe to say that Jack will be paying Natalie and her apartment another visit. What do you want me to tell him about the flash drive?”
“Ask him to destroy everything.”
Gabriel huffed in frustration, running his fingers through his hair.
“They don’t deserve your mercy.”
“His fiancée does, whoever she is. She’ll be humiliated.”
“She’s a stupid girl if she’s involved with him.”
Julia winced.
“I was a stupid girl once.” Her voice was so soft, Gabriel had to strain to hear her.
“You weren’t stupid; you were manipulated. Come on, don’t you want them to suffer?”
“Not this way.”
He rose to his feet, placing his hands on his hips.
“I do! Think about what he did to you. Think about what she did. They made you suffer for years. They nearly destroyed you!”
“But they didn’t,” she said quietly, to his retreating back.
He walked toward the window and moved the curtains, staring out over Central Park.
“I broke his jaw, and it still didn’t give me satisfaction.” Gabriel examined the bare, snow-covered branches of the trees. “I wanted to kill him.”
“You acted in self-defense. If you hadn’t come to my rescue . . .” She shuddered in remembrance of the day she was almost raped. “But what you’re asking me to do isn’t self-defense.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “No. It’s justice.”
“We spoke once, about mercy seasoning justice. We spoke about penance and forgiveness.”
“This is different.”
“That’s right. Because even though I could demand justice, in this case, I decline. To quote one of our favorite novels, to God I respectfully return the ticket.”
Gabriel snorted. “You’re misquoting Dostoyevsky for your own Franciscan purposes.”
Julia smiled at his indignation.
“I know you’re angry with me for not wanting to punish them. But, darling, think of his mother. She was kind to me. This will kill her.”
Gabriel didn’t take his eyes from the trees.
“You threatened to go to the press yourself.”
“To tell them the truth, not to share the pictures. And only if Natalie gave me no other choice.”
Gabriel’s right hand formed a fist, which he brought to rest against the window, resisting the urge to punch through the glass.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair that someone as sweet as Julianne was neglected by her mother and father and left to a cruel and manipulative boyfriend.
It wasn’t fair that Suzanne Emerson was left to cling to the scraps her lover fed her, while he lavished love on his family.
It wasn’t fair that Grace and Maia died while others lived.
It wasn’t fair that Tom and Diane were expecting a baby with a damaged heart.
No, the universe wasn’t fair. And if that weren’t lamentable enough, when the opportunities came for justice, Franciscans like Julianne turned the other cheek and spoke of mercy.
Damn.
He closed his eyes.
She’d turned the other cheek to him.
As had Grace.
As had Maia.
With a deep sigh, he focused his attention on Assisi and what had happened to him when he visited the crypt. God had met him there, but not with justice. With mercy.
“Call your uncle.”
“Gabriel, I—”
He opened his eyes and unclenched his fist but didn’t turn around.
“Just call him. Tell him what you want him to do.”
Julianne tugged the sheet free, winding it around her petite frame. She went to him, bringing her front to his back.
“You want to protect me. You want justice. I love you for that.”
“I still wish I’d killed him.”
“You have.” She pressed her cheek against his shoulder blade.
His muscles tensed. “How so?”
“You love me, you’re kind to me, and you treat me with respect. The longer I’m with you, the more everything having to do with him seems like a bad dream. So in many ways, you have killed him. You’ve killed his memory. Thank you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel closed his eyes as a great wave of love and something he couldn’t quite name washed over him.
Julia kissed his shoulders and went to call her uncle.
Chapter Sixty-two
That evening, Julia and Gabriel dined at Kelly’s Manhattan apartment with her husband, Jonathan, and their daughters, Andrea and Meredith.
Julia felt welcomed by Gabriel’s family. By the end of the evening, they were visiting like old friends rather than strangers.
Kelly gave Gabriel a pair of cuff links and an old Brooklyn Dodgers cap that had belonged to their father, along with several books that had been written by their grandfather.
Gabriel gave Kelly the knowledge that the train engine he had, was, in fact, their father’s. He’d carved the initials “O.S.” into it as a boy, when his name had been Othniel Spiegel.
The Emersons invited the Schultzes to visit in Cambridge or Selinsgrove, and there was talk of a joint holiday in the Hamptons the following summer. Kelly made sure that Gabriel promised to attend the next meeting of the Rabbi Benjamin Spiegel Foundation. She was looking forward to introducing her brother to the cousins.
Back at the Ritz before bedtime, Julia checked her email. She was wearing the Dodgers cap, since it was almost too small for Gabriel’s head.
(A fact she pointed out with no little amusement.)
She stared at her laptop screen from behind her tortoiseshell glasses.
“Scheisse.”
“I really need to start teaching you to curse in a different language. I’ve heard that Farsi has some particularly colorful expletives.” Gabriel smirked as he walked toward her, clad in a plush hotel bathrobe.
“I’m not sure Farsi could capture what I feel when I look at this.” Julia pointed to the screen.
Gabriel picked up his glasses and put them on. He gazed at the scanned black-and-white engagement photo, recognizing Simon Talbot immediately.