Page 69 of Targeted By Desire

“Try me.”

The muscles in his cheek flexed as he gritted his teeth. “You are just like your fucking father,” he grumbled.

“So, I’ve been told. Now if you’ll excuse me,” I turned on my heel. “I need to head home. I’ve got a big interrogation tomorrow.”

I stormed out of the room, my heels slamming hard against the floor with every step.

“Simone,” Gabriel’s voice called after me.

I didn’t bother looking back. I kept my stride, determined to get out of here as fast as possible.

“Hey,” Gabriel said, his fingers wrapping around my arm.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, yanking my arm free.

“Wait, Simone, please-”

“How could you?” I yelled, ceasing my steps and turning to face him. Tears I couldn’t keep in any longer spilled from my eyes. “Going behind my back? Telling Logan of all people?”

Gabriel frowned. “Simone, I’m sorry. After seeing that look in your eye in Vegas, I knew I had to do something. And I get that you’re mad, but-”

“Mad?” I scoffed. “That doesn’t even begin to describe the pain in my chest right now. You’re supposed to be my partner - my best friend! I trusted you!”

“I know,” he murmured. “But, I was afraid of losing you.”

“Well, jokes on you, because you just have.”

Gabriel opened his mouth, but no words came out. Sorrow splashed over his face, and all his regrets flashed through his eyes.

I turned and continued down the hallway, ignoring the ache in my chest as the bond between us snapped in half.

My phone rang almost non-stop for the first few minutes on the ride home. A few calls were from Gabriel, accompanied with voicemails filled with apologies. One or two from my mother inquiring about where I’d run off to. Most of them from Isabelle, worried sick after running into Logan when she’d gone searching for me in the halls.

I felt bad keeping her in the dark, but I really didn’t feel like talking right now. I’ll call her back in the morning.

By then, I’ll have downed some wine, slept a little, and shoved these feelings down the hole with the others.

I ended up turning off my phone completely to have a sliver of peace.

The entry hall of my house was as dark and empty as I felt when I walked through the door. I kicked off my heels and made a beeline for the kitchen.

A waft of woody cologne trickled through my nose, and I almost stopped in my tracks. I glanced around the dark hall, almost hoping my senses weren’t playing tricks on me. As I looked down, I realized I was still wearing his suit jacket. Somewhere between the chaos, I must’ve thrown my arms through the sleeves to keep it from falling. I gripped the lapels and pulled it tight against me.

Tomorrow, I told myself. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.

Sighing, I continued down the hall. I went to the cabinet and inspected the rows of wine and liquor bottles inside. I needed something strong to end the night with.

I reached for a bottle of Chardonnay, grabbed the corkscrew out of the drawer and drove it into the cork.

“Cheers,” I mumbled to myself after popping it open. Catching this bastard was something I’ve wanted for months now. I guess I should celebrate - even if it was while I was alone and sad.

As I brought the bottle up to my lips, a familiar chill ran down my spine. I saw a flash of something dark - like black lightning - fly over my face and pressure with the strength of a thousand men wrapped around my neck.

The bottle slipped from my hand, and shattered across the floor. The strong stench of the alcohol flooded my nose as I clawed at the leather cinched around my throat.

“You like that?” His voice was low and laced with sinister intentions. “Death feels good when you don’t see it coming, doesn’t it?”

This motherfucking bastard. How the fuck did he get out of federal agents’s custody?