GABRIEL (Killer Book 2) (11 page)

"There is no happiness without tears, no life without death. Beware! I am going to make you cry."

-Lucian Staniak

Insanity, to me, feels like you’re on the precipice of a jagged mountain. One side is smooth and slanted, while the other is a dead drop. It would seem simple for most. You’d think that walking down the smooth, slanted side would be the answer. A sane person would stand in the calm wind and make the logical decision. An insane person would wobble back and forth until the storm determines their fate.

My mind is a storm, dark and relentless, unpredictable and unfair.

I have not felt peace in my life. Not once. But last night, I felt solace. When I wrapped her in my arms and held her close, I wanted nothing more than to keep her safe.

Even now, I feel too far away. I considered letting her stay in the spot where we slept, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk having her leave. She’s awakened something within myself that I didn’t think existed.

My eyes snap up to my office door when I hear commotion outside.

“Ma’am, you can’t go in there!” Nora, my secretary exclaims as the door flies open. I recognize the woman. She claimed to be Taylor, Dani’s assistant, but I know that was a lie. She’s Dani’s best friend Misty.

She looks exasperated as she stands in the doorway and smooth’s her hand over her hair.

“Mr. Smith, I told her that she’d need an appointment.” Nora says, narrowing her eyes at the disheveled woman.

I smile, “It’s alright.”

Nora huffs as she turns and makes her way back to her desk.

I nod towards the chair across from my desk, “Taylor, take a seat.”
She squints at me, “No, I’m not Taylor. I’m afraid that was a bit of a fib. I’m Misty, Dani’s best friend.”

I nod as a mock surprised look spreads across my face, “I see.”

She leans forward, “That night that you met us at the bar, what happened when I left?”
I tilt my head to the side, as if to recount the memory, “We had a few drinks. I tried to make an advance and she became very upset.” I lean back in my chair, “She practically ran from the bar and I caught up to her. I offered her a ride home. I texted her the next morning, but she never responded. Why? What’s wrong?”
Her lip trembles, “She’s gone. For two weeks she’s been gone. They think that she ran off, but I know Dani. She wouldn’t abandon her job and her life. She wouldn’t abandon me.”

“That’s terrible.” I breathe out, handing her a tissue.

Misty shakes her head as she dabs her eyes with the tissue, “I thought that she’d be better after everything that happened to her, you know? She had a terrible life, but I thought she was better…”
I nod, “She seemed like she had everything figured out. I can’t imagine that she would just run off without a word.”

She stands up and wipes her tears with the tissue before grabbing a pen and pad from her purse.

“Please, call me if you see her around, or if she reaches out to you.” Misty says, handing me the paper.

“I will.” I nod, looking over her hurried handwriting as she leaves my office.

I run my hand over my face and several seconds tick by when I hear a set of heels clicking against the floor of my office.

“Gabriel.”

I look up and see my mom standing there in the doorway.

I nod towards the chair and she sits.

“Who was that woman?”

I shrug as I look towards the door, “I went out with her and her friend. Her friend went home, and then vanished the next day.”

“Oh,” She murmurs, “that’s terrible.”

I’m becoming annoyed. She never just stops in.

“What are you doing here, mom?”

She relaxes a bit in her seat, “I wanted to talk to you. About what was said the other night.”
She pauses and inhales a shaky breath, “When I was eighteen, I was at a party. It was my first party that I’d ever been to. I was excited. I got incredibly drunk. A man took me from that party. That man was Gabe Thibault… your father, and he was sure to make the next two years of my life a living hell. You see, my father owed him money, and when my father couldn’t pay it, he took me. But when my father did have the money, Gabe refused to let me go home. He became incredibly obsessive, and abusive. He forced me to marry him. He forced me to become pregnant, but I lost the baby. He was a hit man. He killed people in the most brutal way. He used medieval torture devices on them.”

She shifts in her seat uncomfortably, “I saw him once. It was horrifying. The things that he did to her… I didn’t think a human was capable of doing such things to another human being. He began going on these trips, he had to get different people and bring them back to his home. Then one day, he brought Kat back with him.”
I lean forward as I listen intently, craving any truth about my past.

“Kat was sweet. She really was. She became somewhat of a friend for me. Her and Able… your father, of course.”
My eyebrows sit high on my forehead, “Dad? Why was he there?”

She smiles fondly, “He was a guard - my guard. What Gabe didn’t realize… having Able and I so close… Able became my lover, and my savior. Anyway, Kat became pregnant. Gabe was using her, because he didn’t want to hurt me. The only reason is because I could have been with child at any given time. So, he used her.”

“What happened to Gabe?”

Her lip twitches as she surveys me from across the desk, “Your father made sure that he would never be found. Ever.”

“So you killed him?” I snap – not even sure why I’m angry. I already figured that he was dead, I guess I just wanted to believe that he was somewhere out there, ready to tell me why he was the way that he was.

She nods haltingly, “Yes.”

I frown as I divert my eyes, feeling the warmth of mom’s small hand covering mine.

“You are not
him
, Gabriel.” She whispers.

I look up into her eyes, “How do you know that?”
Smiling, she reaches into her purse, “That’s simple.”

She places a stack of pictures on my desk and spreads them across the wood.

“See,” She says, pointing at a picture of her and me when I was a child, “In your eyes, you show love, a love for your mother. Gabe never, ever showed love. But you do.”

She moves her finger over to another picture, this time it’s me and a caterpillar. I’m crouched in the garden as I carefully hold the fuzzy insect.

“Right here, empathy. You have a heart… a soul. You’ve always cared for others.”
“Mom…”

“Listen,” she says, her finger moving to another picture, “Right here, when Jessy was born. Love. You love, Gabriel. He didn’t.”
I clench my jaw as she goes from one picture to the next. Where was this talk when I was younger? I feel that it’s just too late. How can I decipher whether those emotions in my younger years were real or fabricated?

I can’t. My broken mind only knows the here and now.

“Mom!” I exclaim, and her eyes snap to mine.

“Please,” I whisper, “I can’t do this right now.”

She nods slowly as she lets out a slow breath, “I have something for you.”

I exhale as I watch her fingers scrambling to stack the pictures. She puts them in her purse, and then retrieves a manila folder. “These are his medical records.”
I reach out and snag the folder from her before she turns and begins to leave.

“I love you, son.” She says before disappearing out the door.

My eyes stay locked on the folder in my hand. I’m afraid to open it, for fear that I’ll misread something and my mind will slip further into despair. I pull my wallet from my pocket and retrieve the business card.

I dial the number and clear my throat as I wait.

“Doc, I need to see you. Today if possible.”

I watch the building get closer as I approach. To me, this place is eerily calming. I guess it’s because some of these people are crazier than me.

As I walk through the hallway, I keep my eyes locked dead ahead. I can feel their eyes burning into my skin, and I’m happy when I reach his office. I open the door without knocking, but Dr. Branson doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Gabriel, it’s nice to see you.”
I frown as I walk towards him and sit before handing him the folder.

“What’s this?”
My eyes flit from my lap to his, “It’s my father’s records. I haven’t looked at them.”

He clears his throat and I hear him shifting through the papers.

“Hmm,” He murmurs, “He scored forty out of forty on the psychopathy test. He was an extreme psychopath. This paperwork indicates that he completely lacked empathy. He was a narcissist. He is everything that I’ve seen in my patients here, only amplified. He was heartless, Gabriel.”

He snaps the folder shut and my eyes snap to his, “That’s it?”

He removes his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose, “You show some of the same traits. However, you do feel empathy, whereas he did not. From all of the tests we’ve run thus far, you do score high on the psychopathy test, but you feel. Most psychopaths would only dream of being able to feel. You sir, are an enigma.”
I stand abruptly, I feel myself slipping into the darkness as I march to the door.

“Thank you doctor.” I murmur as I escape the confines of his office. I stare at my feet as I walk hastily to the exit.

I feel a pull at my arm and look down to see the woman with tangled hair. Her turquoise eyes are entrancing as she seems to read my soul.

“You belong here.” She rasps. I frown as I try and wiggle her grip off of my arm. She won’t let go, and finally, I whip around, sending her flying.

She crumples to the floor. “You’ll be back!” She hisses as a smile comes over her face.

I turn once more and run from the building back to my car.