Chapter 28
After dinner, Scott had dropped by a friend’s house for a visit. When he arrived home, he was shocked to discover two police cruisers in the driveway. Officer Jamie Roberts was interviewing Julia in the living room, while Officer Ron Quinn was interviewing Gabriel in the dining room.
Richard had already been questioned.
“Will someone please explain why there are cops in the house? What did Gabriel do now?” Scott stood in the kitchen staring down his sister and their father.
Aaron walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a Samuel Adams. He opened it and handed it to Scott, who drank it gratefully. “Simon Talbot attacked Julia.”
Scott almost spat out his beer. “What? Is she okay?”
“He f**king bit her,” said Rachel. “And he almost broke her ankle.”
“Did he…” Scott’s voice was matter-of-fact, yet he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
Rachel shook her head. “I asked her. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did. And she said no.”
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Scott slammed his beer down on the counter. “Well, where is he? Let’s go, Aaron. Someone needs to teach him a lesson.”
“Gabriel got to him first. Ron told me that they had to take Simon to the hospital to have his jaw wired shut. Gabriel smashed his face in,”
Aaron explained.
Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “The Professor? Why would he do that?”
Aaron and Rachel exchanged a knowing look.
“I’d still like to pay the ass**le a visit.” Scott cracked the knuckles on his right hand. “Just to talk to him.”
Aaron shook his head. “Listen to yourself. You’re a prosecutor; he’s the son of a senator. You can’t tune the guy up. And besides, Gabriel finished it.
They’ll take him into custody when the doctors are done with him.”
“You still haven’t explained why Gabriel would get his pretty little hands dirty for Julia. He barely knows her.”
Rachel leaned over the kitchen island toward her brother. “They’re a couple.”
Scott blinked like a lazy stoplight. “Come again?”
“Just what I said. They’re — together.”
“Holy shit. What the hell is she doing with him?”
Before anyone could offer a hypothesis, Gabriel walked into the kitchen.
He looked at the worried faces of his family and frowned. “Where’s Julianne?”
“Still being interviewed.” Richard smiled at his oldest son and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “I’m very proud of you, for what you did for Julia.
I know we’re all grateful you arrived in time.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together and nodded uncomfortably.
“Clocking Simon Talbot will earn you a medal. But screwing around with Julia will earn you a beating. You aren’t good enough for her. Not by a long shot.” Scott put his beer down and cracked his knuckles again.
Gabriel’s eyes glinted coldly at his brother. “My personal life is none of your business.”
“It is now. What kind of professor screws his students? Don’t you get enough tail already?”
Rachel inhaled deeply and slowly moved toward the door, away from the impending titanic clash.
Gabriel’s fists clenched at his sides, and he took a step closer to his larger but younger brother. “Speak about Julianne that way again and you and I are going to have more than words.”
“All right, you guys, no more Cain and Abel bullshit. There are cops in our living room, and you’re scaring your sister.” Aaron stepped in between the seething men, placing a light hand on Scott’s chest.
“Julia is not the kind of girl that you screw around with and then dump. She’s the kind of girl you marry,” Scott said over Aaron’s shoulder.
“You think I don’t know that?” said Gabriel, with evident hostility.
“Don’t you think she’s had her quota of ass**les?”
Richard held his hand up. “Scott, that’s enough.”
He looked at his father curiously.
“Gabriel rescued Julia from her attacker.” Richard nodded slightly.
Scott stared at his father as if he’d just told him that the earth was flat.
And everyone, except him, already knew it.
Rachel jumped in, eager to change the subject. “By the way, Gabriel, I didn’t know you knew Jamie Roberts. Did you go to high school with her?”
“Yes.”
“Were you friends?”
“Vaguely.”
All eyes swung to Gabriel, who turned on his heel and disappeared.
Richard waited a few minutes for the tension in the air to dissipate before turning his attention to his remaining son. “I’d like a word with you, please.” His voice was calm but firm.
The two men climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked into Richard’s study. He closed the door behind them.
“Have a seat.” He pointed to a chair in front of his desk. “I want to talk to you about your attitude toward your brother.”
Scott sat opposite his father and prepared himself for what was to come. Richard only brought his children into the study for the most serious of conversations.
He gestured to a reproduction of Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son, which was proudly displayed on one of the walls. “Do you remember the parable behind that painting?”
Scott nodded slowly. He was in trouble.
Julia sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air.
It was only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare. You got away.
It took a moment to bring her frantic breathing under control. But once she realized that she was safe in the Clark’s guest room and not underneath Simon on the floor of her old bedroom, she was able to relax.
Somewhat.
She leaned over and turned on the lamp. The light dispelled the darkness of the room but did not cheer her. She picked up the glass of water and the pain pills that Gabriel left when he tucked her into bed several hours earlier. He’d curled around her, fully clothed, and held her until she fell asleep. But he was gone now.
I need him.
More than the pain pills or the light or the air, Julia needed Gabriel, to feel his body wrapped around hers, to hear his deep voice whisper words of comfort. He was the only person who could make her forget what had happened. She needed to touch him. She needed to kiss him in order to blot out her nightmare.
Julia took the pills to soothe the pain in her ankle. She hopped on one foot to Gabriel’s room in order to soothe the pain in her heart. She was quiet as a mouse, listening for any stirring or footsteps in the other rooms.
When she was satisfied that she would not be surprised, she silently opened Gabriel’s door and closed it behind her.
It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness.
He’d neglected to pull the shades on the windows and was lying on what was normally her side of the double bed. She wondered if it was accurate to say that she had a side of the bed. She limped to the other side, pulled the covers back, and placed one knee on the mattress.
“Julianne.” Gabriel’s low whisper startled her.
She clapped a hand to her mouth so that she wouldn’t cry out.
“Stop.”
She froze. When her wits finally returned, she lowered her head. “Um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” Shame flooded through her, and she blinked back tears as she slowly turned to go.
“That’s not what I meant. Wait.”
Julia watched him throw off the covers and stand up, his back toward her. He was naked and the streaming starlight through the shades scattered across his back. It was an optical illusion of sorts, the delicate points of light dancing across his athletic form. She saw his shoulder blades and his spine, and the muscles of his lower back where the skin stretched as he leaned over to find his pajama bottoms.
And of course, the most beautiful backside and legs…
When he’d pulled on his pants, he turned to face her, his brilliantly sculpted chest and shoulders perfect in the dimness, the tattooed dragon slightly muted but ever present.
“Now you can crawl in with me.” He chuckled. “I thought I’d make you nervous if you found me naked.”
Julia rolled her eyes. She didn’t like when he laughed at her, but she saw his point.
(Or rather, she didn’t actually see it, but she understood what he meant.)
“Come here,” he whispered, extending an arm and drawing her close so that when they reclined, her head rested naturally on his chest.
“I set my alarm so I could check on you. It would have gone off in fifteen minutes. How is your ankle?”
“It hurts.”
“Did you take the pills I left for you?”
“Yes. They haven’t kicked in yet.”
Gabriel carefully shifted so that he could reach her hand and tenderly pressed his lips against her fingers. “My little warrior.” He stroked her hair, caressing the waves with his fingertips. “Were you having trouble sleeping?”
“I had a nightmare.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
He squeezed her more closely just to indicate that he’d heard her and that if she changed her mind, he would listen.
“Would you kiss me?” she asked.