Gabriel's Inferno

“A professional what? Asshole? Do you even know who you’re talking to? My father is—”

 

“Listen, motherfucker, you’re lucky we aren’t in the same room or you’d be spending the evening in surgery trying to have your head reattached to your body. If I find out that you’ve contacted her again, in any way, I’m going to come after you, and not even your father, whoever he is, will be able to make you sentient again. Do you understand? Never contact her again.” Gabriel snapped the phone shut and hurled it against the wall. The cell phone broke into several pieces that scattered across the floor.

 

He closed his eyes and counted to fifty before he allowed himself to go to her. He’d never been so angry. Or had such murderous thoughts. It was a good thing Julia needed him. Otherwise, he was pretty sure he would have hunted that boy down and killed him.

 

Gabriel poured a glass of water and carried it to her. She was seated on the cold, ceramic edge of the bathtub in the guest washroom. Her head was down, and her arms were wrapped across her chest, her poor corsage shaking with the trembling of her hand.

 

What the fuck did he do to her?

 

When she reached down to tug the hem of her skirt over her knees, the sight of her instinctive attempt to maintain some semblance of modesty made his heart clench.

 

“Julia?” He handed her the water.

 

She sipped it slowly, but didn’t respond.

 

He joined her on the edge of the tub, pulling her into his side.

 

“He told you about when I was with him, didn’t he?” Her voice was low, dull.

 

Gabriel hugged her closer. “He demanded to speak to you, but I told him not to call again.”

 

She looked up at him as a tear slowly leaked from one eye. “He didn’t—say things about me?”

 

“He mumbled incoherently until I threatened him.” Gabriel grimaced. “And I wasn’t kidding.”

 

“He’s really nasty,” she whispered.

 

“Let me worry about him. And if that means flying to Philadelphia to speak to him in person, I’ll do it. And he won’t like what happens if I have to make that trip.”

 

Julia was only half-listening. Simon made her feel used. Filthy. Pathetic. And she didn’t want Gabriel to look at her like that. She didn’t want him to know what had happened. Ever.

 

“Sweetheart, what did he want?”

 

“He thinks I have some pictures of him, and he wants them back.”

 

“What kind of pictures?”

 

Julia sniffled. “I don’t know. They must be pretty bad if he’s so worried.”

 

“Do you have anything like that?”

 

“No! But he says he has videos of me. Personal videos.” She shuddered. “I don’t think he does, but what if I’m wrong? What if he fabricates something and sends it to my father? Or posts it online?”

 

Gabriel swallowed his revulsion as he reached over to wipe her tears away. “He won’t do that, unless he’s stupid. As long as he thinks you have something potentially damaging to him, he won’t act preemptively. I could speak with your father and explain that I heard this miscreant threaten you. Then no matter what he posts online you’ll be able to say it’s a fabrication created by a stalker.”

 

Julia looked up at him wildly. “You can’t. My dad is already upset that I’m traveling to Selinsgrove with you. He can’t know we’re together.”

 

Gabriel ran his fingers through her hair before he quickly wiped away another tear. “You didn’t tell me that. Not that I blame him. But you need to tell him what happened tonight so that he won’t give Simon any more information.”

 

Julia nodded.

 

“I can speak to my lawyer tomorrow. You can file a complaint against him, and we can try to get a restraining order. We can also try to figure out if he actually has videos of you or if he’s bluffing.”

 

“I don’t want to do anything to antagonize him. You don’t understand—he has powerful connections.”

 

Gabriel pressed his lips together. He wanted to push her to take action, or to take action on her behalf, but it was clear that she was traumatized. And he didn’t want to add to her distress.

 

“If he contacts you again, I’ll speak with my lawyer and that boy will be introduced to an entirely new level of discomfort. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to pick out a new cell phone, and we’ll get you a Toronto number. You should tell your father to keep the new number secret.”

 

He lifted her chin so that she would look into his eyes. “He can’t touch you. I promise.” He smiled widely. “Don’t let the glasses and bow ties fool you. I can take care of myself. And I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He kissed her lips chastely and added a small kiss to her forehead. “When we’re home for Thanksgiving, you’ll be with me when you aren’t with your father. And I’ll always be only a phone call away. All right?”

 

She murmured just to let him know that she’d heard him.

 

“Julia?”

 

“Yes?”

 

He pulled her into a closer embrace. “This was my fault.”

 

She gave him a questioning look.

 

Sylvain Reynard's books