Gabe was taken aback by her coldness toward him. He’d known Jessica for over a decade and had treated her like a sister the entire time. All he could manage was a startled look.
Elle, of course, was far more articulate. “Jessica, I know you’re upset and frustrated. We all are. But Gabe’s right. There’s nothing he can do until we have a reason to arrest this person. All we can do is try to keep an eye on him and hope he slips up and gives us something to work with.”
Jessica glanced between the two of them a couple of times before laughing bitterly. “Oh my God, I’m such an idiot! No wonder you’re taking his side—you two are sleeping together! I should’ve figured that out when you arrived on my doorstep at the same time.”
“That has nothing to do with anything,” Elle assured her. “I’m telling you the truth as deputy prosecutor.”
“Right,” Jessica spat. “God, Gabe—this is so typical! When the hell are you going to grow up? Chris always talked about you like you were some kind of freaking legend, like you were his hero or something. Well, you know what? Chris was my hero. And now he’s gone.”
Gabe reached out to her. “Jess—”
Jessica snatched her hand out of his reach and shook her head before storming off and slamming the sliding door behind her. Gabe got up to go after her, but Elle put a restraining hand on his arm. “Let her go. She’s scared and angry, Gabe. She didn’t mean what she said.”
Gabe shook his head on a sigh. “Yeah she did. And she’s right. I’m my father’s son, for shit’s sake. When the hell did he ever give a damn about doing anything by the book? The man’s a goddamned legend because he always gets his man, no matter what.”
“That’s not fair, Gabe,” Elle assured him. “You’re not the renegade your father was at your age, sure, but the climate has shifted. The kind of crap he and your grandfather used to pull wouldn’t fly today. Not by a long shot.”
“Maybe not,” he agreed, “but I guarantee neither of them would’ve been sitting around with their thumbs up their asses while a murdered cop’s widow received threats!”
Elle leveled a stern look at him, and when he tried to look away, she stepped into his line of sight, forcing him to face her. “You’re not sitting around with your thumb up your ass, Gabe. You’re still recovering from nearly being killed. There’s a big freaking difference. Jessica’s still grieving. But she had no right to say any of the things she did.”
Gabe shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Yeah, she did. I shouldn’t be here, Elle. I should be out there right now, hunting down Monroe’s ass and making sure he confesses to tormenting all of us. Instead of…”
He bit back his words, realizing they would only make things worse.
“Instead of what?” Elle prompted gently. “Instead of spending time with me?”
Gabe ran a hand over his hair in frustration. “God no! That’s not what I was going to say. Spending time with you…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, bringing his anger and frustration back under control. Then he took her face in his hands, his thumbs tenderly caressing her skin. “Being with you is the only thing that makes all the rest of this bullshit bearable, Elle.”
The look in her eyes made him feel twelve feet tall, and she pressed her hands against his chest before coming up on her toes to brush a lingering kiss to his lips. “Then stay. Stay here. With me.”
Chapter 18
Jeb Monroe had miscalculated. He’d fully anticipated receiving a visit from one of the Dawsons after his most recent messages to the dead cop’s widow and the whore who was spreading her legs for Gabe Dawson. What more did he have to do to force them to play into his hands?
He frowned down at his workbench, where he’d laid out the various parts for assembling the guns he’d later sell to his neighbors a few miles down the road. The Feds could keep him from selling completed firearms without a license, but there was nothing that could keep him from cutting the metal on his own and partially assembling them to sell the parts to those he knew who also believed in the cause. Those tyrants in Washington could limit someone else’s firepower, but he’d be ready when the revolution finally began.
“I’m going to town.”
He glanced up from his work at the sound of his daughter’s voice, but then turned back to his the weapon in his hands. “You don’t need anything. Supplies came in a week ago.”
He heard the girl swallow hard, knew she was working up her courage to defy him. “I need to buy…feminine things.”
He grunted, not bothering to lift his gaze. “Your brother will get them when he’s in town.”
That should’ve been the end of the conversation, but she didn’t turn to go. Instead, she heaved a frustrated sigh. “I am not a prisoner here. You can’t keep me from leaving!”
He slowly raised his narrowed gaze to meet hers. The only thing that kept her from getting a hand across the mouth was the fear he saw in her eyes. She was terrified of him.
Good.