Tainted Legacy (YA Paranormal Romance) (21 page)

“Grier and I can’t,” Ava told her. “It’s probably a good thing Gabe said he was busy because I would’ve had to cancel on him. After I got home Mom told me Grier and I need to be here for dinner. She’s making something special for Pastor Mitchell.”

“We could go out for a while before.”

“That won’t work either. Mom asked me to make my layered chocolate cheesecake for dessert. It takes forever to make,” Ava explained.

“How about after?” Molly suggested.

Ava shook her head. “I should probably stay home so I can get some sleep so I’m rested for my solo tomorrow.”

Molly came back to the table but didn’t sit. She stood looking at Ava, her arms crossed over her chest, openly appraising her.

“What?” Ava finally asked as she fidgeted with the paper in front of her.

“Those are the worst excuses I’ve ever heard. It sounds to me like you just want to sit home and mope,” Molly accused with a look of mock contempt.

Ava didn’t respond and Molly groaned. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Like what?” Ava asked.

“So upset over a boy. You’ve really got it bad for him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Ava admitted with a sigh.

 

***

 

Gabe had the volume blaring on a movie that he wasn’t watching. He was unsuccessfully trying to drown out the raucous thoughts in his head. He’d spent most of the night thinking and had come up with nothing. He had hoped that his reasoning had been cloudy because he’d been distracted by the fact that Ava was in his bed.

And that he wasn’t.

As soon as he had dropped her off he tried to reassess the situation once more.  All he’d determined from his efforts was that he—and Ava—were in a crapload of trouble. The more he thought about it, the worse the situation began to look.

Especially for Ava.

So he was trying not to think about it.

He was also trying not to think about how much he’d upset her that morning. Having her feelings hurt by him would be pure pleasantry compared to what his father was capable of.

“Father would like to see you,” Rafe said as he let himself into Gabe’s house without knocking.

“He’s here?” Gabe asked as he turned down the volume.

Rafe nodded. “In his study.”

His father’s comings and goings were sporadic at best. He had only spoken to his father a handful of times since this endeavor of his began. This would be the first time the conversation took place in person. It seemed most of the communication was through Rafe, whom then passed it along to Gabe. At first, Gabe was frustrated that he was disregarded in such a way. But he did appreciate the reprieve. He decided it had been a fairly even trade.  

Until now. When he desperately needed to know what was going on.

So perhaps this was it. His father had come to explain the rest of the plan to him. A feeling of trepidation hit him so hard it nearly blinded him.

He had been so stupid to let himself start feeling anything, anything at all for Ava. It was like making a pet out of an animal that was slated for slaughter.

But so, so much worse than that.

“I’ll be right in,” Gabe told his brother. Rafe, satisfied with his answer, left without another word.

A face to face confrontation wi kfroes Newth his father could provide him with the answers he’d been searching for. If his father was willing to give them, which was unlikely. And Gabe finding a way to force him to give answers was even more unlikely.

It was impossible.

But he was going to try.

He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. He wasn’t sure why he bothered since that tactic had never worked in the past. He needed to find the courage to face his father’s wrath. He knew it would be great. But he would recover. Unlike Ava. Once his father had used her for whatever his purpose was, he would destroy her.

As he made his way inside he worked at calming himself and organizing his thoughts, which had seemed to run rampant the moment he’d learned of his father’s arrival. He stood in the wide hallway of the main house for a moment. It was his last chance to try to compose himself. Show too much fear and his father would be disgusted and Gabe would pay. Yet it was important to show just enough fear so as to appear reverent. It was a delicate balance that Gabe had been working at perfecting since he was a small child.

“Sir?” Gabe said, knocking as he walked in.

His father motioned him to his desk.

“Rafe tells me things are going extraordinarily well.”

“They are, sir. What is our next step?” Gabe asked. He hoped he sounded as business like as he intended. As if his only intention was to carry out the plan to appease his father.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that yet.” His father’s eyes were cold on him, appraising, assessing everything from his breath to his mood to possibly even his thoughts.

Thoughts that Gabe tried to guard.

“I feel I could do a better job if I knew what end result we are looking for,” he carefully told his father. This might be his only opportunity to throw the question out there. He hoped he sounded humble, as if he only wanted to work harder at pleasing this man.

“Is that why you are not doing your job as well as you should be?” he asked, turning the question around on Gabe. “Are you implying that I have not given you enough information to do your job well? Because I am aware that Rafe has compiled a rather extensive file on the girl, to help you along. And yet, you still seem to be fumbling.”

“Fumbling? Sir? I thought you said Rafe reported things were going extraordinarily well?” Gabe asked. He felt his heart give a fearful jolt in his chest. Not only had he lost his one chance at getting an answer but his father was displeased.

Perhaps he had found out that he and Ava had fought that morning. No, it wasn’t even a fight. It was a disagreement, at best. But how could he know that? This conversation was quickly spinning out of Gabe’s control. He tried to mentally brace himself for the impact of h ke i. But how is mistake.

“It has come to my attention that our girl is singing a solo tomorrow. Now, I understand a young lady might not necessarily invite a young man to church,” he said in a voice that was as slick and slimy as an oil spill. “But given the circumstances, a solo, I am disappointed that you were not invited.”

Gabe pushed down the knot of dread. So it wasn’t the events of the morning. But how did his father know about her solo? Did he know that Ava had invited him, or only that she was singing? Did he know that his son had turned down her offer? Was this just a test? Which begged another question…Just how closely was Rafe still watching Ava? Had he carelessly assumed that because he and Ava appeared closer, that Rafe would have backed off? Feeling his part was done?

“If you prefer to remain mute, I could arrange to make that a permanent condition,” his father threatened. Gabe knew it was not an idle threat. He was rather attached to his tongue and would prefer not to part with it.

“I’m sorry, sir. She did invite me.”

“Splendid!” he cried as he jumped up from his desk.

“I…I declined.” Gabe worked to keep his voice even, tried to keep his posture from looking too defiant. His heart rattled around in his chest. Not for the first time, he wondered if his father was capable of hearing the commotion it made. He waited with forced patience for his father to go on.

The jovial smirk had vanished. “Then, I suggest you
un
-decline.”

“But…sir? A
church
? She’s singing in a church!”

“Yes,” he said cruelly. “I know.”

Gabe was dumbfounded. Arguing with his father was never wise. It never, ever had an encouraging outcome. He did not mean to blurt the words, “There is no way—”

He nearly tumbled to the floor with the agony of his lungs tightly constricting. His father had clenched his hand into a fist, pulling every last molecule of air out of his son’s lungs as he did so.

Gabe staggered, stumbling into his father’s desk, bracing himself while fighting valiantly not to fall flat on the floor. His father rotated his fist and Gabe felt his lungs twisting inside of his chest, tearing away. He would be gasping in agony if he were allowed to breathe. His father’s office began to blur, swirling into curious shades of gray and green. He fell to his knees and his
father chuckled mirthlessly. With the very last ounce of strength he had, he managed to nod his head.

“I thought so,” his father replied. He came around the side of the desk, smacking Gabe roughly on the back, knocking out the bre kg on>

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

“Gabe! You came!” Ava cried as she ran down the sidewalk to greet him. She flung her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Not trusting himself to speak last night, he had sent her a text, telling her he was too busy to talk. He had apologized for his behavior and told her he would see her in the morning. He could tell by the look on her face that she had not been sure he would follow through.

He looked around nervously. He did not want to have to face Pastor St. Clair. It was bad enough to see the curious glances as people made their way from the parking lot to the church. Ava didn’t seem to notice as she disentangled herself and led Gabe down the sidewalk.

He paused momentarily before entering, looking to the sky above, expecting a great bolt of lightning to strike him dead where he stood. When that didn’t happen he turned his attention to the ground beneath his feet, nearly expecting it to open up and swallow him whole.

What he was about to do was all kinds of unnatural. He was breaking the rules on both ends and somehow, someway, he knew he was going to pay for this.

When Ava held out her hand, he took it, holding it tightly as she towed him forward. He felt as though she was navigating their way through a minefield, not simply a church filled with parishioners. As she pulled him over the threshold that led into the church, the air hit him like the back draft from an oven door. The impact on his skin was intense but bearable. His first breath was more of a challenge—choked ng on> been su—as the air scorched a path down his throat and filled his lungs. The second breath he took was more controlled as he concentrated on the oxygen it contained even as he tried to mentally separate it from the noxious content that permeated it. It was easier, that second breathe. As was the third and all subsequent breaths that followed as he allowed himself to push through the unpleasantness that he had been trained to fight.

He was infinitely grateful to Ava when she pulled him into a private alcove.

“I know you’re not comfortable being here,” she quietly admitted. “And that just makes me appreciate that fact that you did come, that much more.”

He tried to give her a smile but was sure it came out barely a grimace. “I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “You don’t look fine. Goodness, Gabe. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were allergic to church or something.”

Having an allergy sounded pleasant.

The ‘or something’ was not.

“It’s just…well, yeah. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t really belong here,” he reminded her.

“Don’t be silly. Of course you do. And you are definitely
welcome
here.”

His body was arguing to the contrary but there was no way he was going to let Ava know that.

She gave him a shy smile and slid her arms around his neck as she hugged him tightly. “I’m just so happy to see you.”

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