But he did. Raphael just nodded. “Okay. I’ll marry her.” “Raphael, have you lost your mind?” Gabriel asked, appalled at the idea of being saddled to Marguerite for eternity.
Raphael just shook his head. “It’s what I need to do. To make it right.” He headed for the front door.
Gabriel went to follow him, but Alex grabbed him again. “No. You stay here.”
“Fuck you, Alex. I want to see Sara.” Gabriel yanked his arm out of Alex’s hold.
The gun was suddenly on his temple. “I said stay here.”
Gabriel knocked the gun away. “And I said f**k you.” He was so tired and angry. All of this, all the death and suffering and pain, for what? Because Marguerite hadn’t been able to wrangle a ring from Raphael? It made him sick.
He started for the door again, but Alex moved. Gabriel instinctively ducked and avoided Alex’s blow to the head. “What is your problem?” He turned and blocked another punch.
“They need a minute to work things out. Leave them alone.”
“No.” Gabriel was so frustrated, he threw a punch back.
Alex blocked, and the next thing Gabriel knew, they were locked in combat, exchanging vicious blows that made Gabriel’s teeth rattle and blood burst from Alex’s nose.
Sara kept her mouth shut so that Marguerite wouldn’t hear her teeth chattering. She was scared witless. Marguerite had already moved Jocelyn by taking her by the hand and leading her down the hallway. Sara had watched Marguerite give Jocelyn a little push and her friend fall down on her bed, eyes vacant and staring at the ceiling.
She had run for it then, realizing it was her chance to escape, grabbing her purse as she flew past the sofa, but suddenly Marguerite had been between her and the door. It wasn’t possible, but there she was, and she slapped Sara so hard she saw stars and lost her balance, stumbling backward. Marguerite had grabbed her arm and shoved her so that she fell back onto the sofa.
Now she was sitting there, afraid to move, unsure what to do, all too aware that something was very, very wrong. This wasn’t just a woman who was feeling possessive about her man. This was crazy.
Marguerite was studying her manicure. “You know, I think I’m going to have to find a new salon. I just had my nails done yesterday and they’re chipped already. I don’t know this area all that well. Can you recommend a salon?”
Sara just shook her head. Her mind was a complete blank, her thoughts skittering left and right, trying to figure out how she was going to contact someone for help. How she might escape.
Swinging one leg over the other as she sat in an oversized chair across from Sara, Marguerite sighed. “No? That’s a damn shame. But I guess I’m not surprised. You look a little on the earthy side. You really need to put more effort into your appearance, hon. Your hair could use highlights to lift it, and some quality concealer could really cover up those dark circles under your eyes. I realize Gabriel likes your helpless delicateness, but still, you don’t want to look like a crackhead. Of course, I guess it doesn’t really matter since I’m going to kill you.”
“When were you planning on doing that exactly?” Sara asked, annoyance slicing through her fear. She didn’t like being toyed with, nor did she like being insulted. She had insomnia. She was entitled to dark circles under her eyes.
Marguerite glared at her. “Whenever I feel like it. And maybe I won’t be compassionate and put you in a trance like I did with Anne Donovan and your mother. Maybe I’ll just let you struggle while I slice you open like a fish. You’ll feel everything and you’ll fight me, and you won’t be able to stop me because I’m a hundred times stronger than you, and I’m the one with the big knife.”
“I don’t see any knife,” Sara said, suddenly feeling defiant and infuriated. Was this bitch admitting she had killed her mother? Sara would be damned if she would just sit there and be murdered. If it hadn’t been for Jocelyn in the bedroom, she would have made a rush for the door again, but she didn’t want to leave her friend behind.
Marguerite pulled a knife out of her purse. “Right here. Isn’t it pretty?”
They both heard the front door open at the same time and Sara didn’t hesitate. She ran for it, wanting to make sure whoever was there would understand the danger, that they would go for help. She screamed for good measure, yelling and shrieking as she tore for the door, waving her arms. There was a tug on the back of her shirt and she was suddenly lying on the floor, the wind completely knocked out of her and pain exploding in the back of her head.
“Marguerite.”
It was Rafe. Sara tried to suck in a breath, blinking back tears. She had no idea how Marguerite had grabbed her so quickly, but she had given her a brutal smackdown. Every inch of Sara’s body hurt and she couldn’t seem to speak, no matter how desperately she wanted to get Rafe’s attention. She could see his legs as he moved into the room, closing the door behind him. That door closing bothered her. She wanted out. So she forced herself to press her hands to the floor and sit up. Everything spun for a second, but she swallowed back the nausea and tried to get her bearings. She was a good five feet from the door, but Rafe and Marguerite were behind her.
Rafe was talking in a low voice to Marguerite, and he was rubbing her arms in a soothing manner. She was shaking her head. Sara couldn’t hear what Rafe was saying, but she really didn’t care. She was just relieved for the distraction and whatever form of assistance Rafe could offer. Grabbing the leg of the end table, she heaved herself to her feet, shaky and nauseated, wondering how in the hell she was going to get Jocelyn out of the house. She was going for her purse with her cell phone inside it when the front door exploded, flying off the hinges.
Sara let out a yelp and jumped back, stumbling over the coffee table. A man fell backward onto the floor, skidding on top of the now horizontal front door. It was Alex, and the man who obviously had shoved him was Gabriel, out of breath, fists raised, blood all over his yellow T-shirt. What did Alex have to do with anything and why was Gabriel so angry with him? With no clue what was going on, Sara stepped onto the couch, away from the fray, intending to avoid contact with everyone and go quietly down the hallway to Jocelyn. She was going to force Jocelyn up and they were getting the hell out before she really stopped to think about what she was seeing and she absolutely and utterly lost it.
“Are you okay?” Gabriel asked her, glancing over, worry on his face even as he dodged a vicious kick aimed at his shin from Alex’s left foot.