Dubious: The Loan Shark Duet (Book 1) Page 26

  “She hasn’t seen us,” I say.

  I have to leave Valentina to go after my daughter. If that dickhead of a pretty college boy touched her, he’ll get what he deserves. On the landing, I hear her door slam. My hip aches as I rush to her bedroom.

  “Carly?” I call, knocking on the door.

  “Go away.”

  I try the knob. It’s locked. Her sobs reach me through the wood.

  “Open the door, Carly.”

  “I said go away!”

  “If you don’t open this door right now I’m going to break it down.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t give a damn.”

  “Carly!” I’m more worried than angry, but it’s the anger that sounds in my voice. “You have three seconds.”

  “Go to hell.”

  That’s it. I take a few steps back and get ready to charge. I’m about to throw my weight against the door when Valentina comes running up the stairs.

  “Gabriel!” She grabs my arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Stay out of this.”

  “You’ll scare her.”

  It’s the plea in her eyes that makes me pause. I don’t want to frighten Carly, but my fatherly instincts are in overdrive.

  I drag my hands though my hair. “Something’s wrong.”

  My concern is mirrored on Valentina’s face. Maybe it’s the subject we discussed just before Carly’s turbulent entry, but we’re thinking the same thing.

  Valentina walks to the door and taps gently on it. “Carly? Are you all right? Your dad’s really worried about you. Please come out and talk to him before he does something stupid.”

  A hiccup and a snort-laugh comes from inside.

  Laughing is good. Whatever happened can’t be that bad.

  “I don’t feel like cleaning up the mess he’s about to make,” Valentina continues, “not to mention facing your grandmother when he wakes her up with the noise.”

  The mention of Magda does it. Footsteps approach the door. The key turns. The door opens on a crack, and Carly’s tear-streaked face appears around the frame, black mascara smeared under her eyes and her hair a mess. I have to clench teeth, hands, and muscles not to shove the door open, and march into her room.

  Carly sniffs and looks between Valentina and me. “I don’t want to talk about it, Dad. Go to bed.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing.”

  I motion at her face. “This doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “You won’t understand!”

  It’s times like these that I hate Sylvia with an unfair fierceness for walking out on us. “I’ll try my best.”

  “No, thanks.” She adds sarcastically, “Can I go to sleep, now?”

  “Fine. I’ll have to drive over to Sebastian’s.”

  “Dad!” Fresh tears build in her eyes.

  I can’t stand to see her tears. Moving forward, I hold my arms open for a hug, but she takes a step back into the room and starts closing the door. Only when I stop in my tracks does she let go of the door.

  “Can I speak to you, Valentina?”

  Valentina shoots me a look. I motion for her to go ahead. I’m desperate. I’ll use any measures to get Carly to open up.

  “Sure.” Valentina clears her throat. “Do you want to talk in your room?”

  Carly takes her by the arm and drags her inside, the door shutting behind them.

  Why am I surrounded by females who are set on making my life difficult? I go to my study and activate the security system. For my family’s safety, every room in the house is equipped with hidden microphones. You never know. It’s less than honorable to eavesdrop on my daughter’s conversation with Valentina, but only a father will understand how I feel. I pour a whiskey and take a seat behind my desk.

  Carly’s voice comes over the speaker. “We had a fight.”

  “Oh, Carly. I’m sorry, honey. Fights happen, you know.”

  “Not these kinds of fights.”

  “Was he mean to you?”

  “Not exactly. Actually, he was quite polite. I just don’t understand. I don’t get guys.”

  “What did he do to upset you?”

  “He broke up with me.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you were going steady.”

  “He asked me on our first date.”

  “Then he breaks up a few weeks later?”

  “He met someone else. He cheated on me. He lied to me.”

  “That must hurt an awful lot.”

  “He says I’m too girlie for him. I’m so humiliated. I hate him.”

  “You shouldn’t look at it like that. Someone not liking you for who you are is nothing to be humiliated about.”

  “He’s a first-class jerk. He’s dating Tammy Marais.”

  “I don’t know Tammy, but I know you’re beautiful and clever. You’re also still very young. There’s lots of time for you to meet the right man.”

  “How do you know I’ll meet someone? What if there’s no one out there for me?”

  “There are plenty of good men out there.”

  “How can I make sure they’ll like me?”

  “By being yourself.”

  “Did you have a lot of boyfriends? Do you have one, now?”

  “I didn’t date.”

  “Why not? Don’t you like men?”

  “I was busy. I had my studies and a job.”

  “Are you sorry now that you’re old?”

  Valentina laughs softly. “I’m not that old.”

  “Are you? Sorry?”

  “Sometimes, but it’s no use crying over things we can’t change.”

  “I want him back, Valentina. Tell me what to do.”

  “You want my opinion? He doesn’t deserve to have you back.”

  “If you don’t have experience with men, how do I know I can trust your advice?”

  “You don’t have to trust me. Trust yourself. I’m sure you know you’re worth more than lies and deceit.”

  “You’re right. I’m worth more than Tammy Mousy Hair.”

  “And elegant young ladies aren’t nasty.”

  Carly giggles. “You’re no fun. I can’t gossip with you.”

  “See? You’re feeling better, already.”

  “I guess. Thanks for…uh…putting things in perspective.”

  “No worries. How about hot chocolate with marshmallows?”

  “My mom won’t approve.”

  “Hot chocolate without marshmallows?”

  “I suppose, as long as it won’t make me gain weight.”

  “You’re a skinny thing. You don’t have to worry about one hot chocolate.”

  “Okay. Will you bring it to my room?”

  “Only if you go say goodnight to your dad. He’s worried because he loves you.”

  “I know. It’s just…I can’t talk to him about boyfriends. He’ll get upset.”

  “Tell him how you feel. If he understands, he’ll be more patient.”

  “Will you talk to him for me, like you did for going out with Sebastian?”

  “I think you can handle him all on your own.”

  “Thank you, Val.”

  “You’re welcome. Go see your dad. I’ll leave your chocolate on your nightstand.”

  I cut the security link and tip my hands together. Valentina was right all along. It wasn’t necessary to make a fuss about Carly going out with Sebastian. The problem took care of itself. Valentina was good with Carly tonight. I’d trust my only daughter with her any day.

  15

  Valentina

  After I opened up to Gabriel about my rape he became more possessive than ever, but he also lifted a weight off my shoulders. My parents’ advice was to pretend that day never took place, and until Gabriel, no one knew exactly what happened. My mom didn’t want to hear the details. She wanted to spare me the pain of reliving them. I would’ve confided in Charlie, but I didn’t have a chance. After my attack, my parents did everything in their power to please me. When
I said I felt like chocolate cake, my father loaded Charlie and me in the car, and then the accident that changed our lives forever happened.

  Gabriel calls me to his study every night after dinner. I sit at his feet with my head on his thigh as he reads and comments on my assignments or watches the news while stroking my hair. Afterward, he takes me depending on how he interprets my needs and mood. Sometimes it’s tender and sometimes hard. I revel in whatever he gives me, needing his body with an intensity that doesn’t diminish, no matter how many times per night he makes me come.

  Things are looking up in my life. Since Carly reached out to me about her breakup with Sebastian, our relationship is friendlier. Aletta said if I hand in my assignments, she’ll hold onto my study cancellation, giving me a second chance at my dream. I can still be something other than a maid after nine years. With the bursary, I have more money to spend on Charlie and Kris. I can even afford to take them out to lunch on Sunday. I choose a restaurant in Rosebank, close to El Toro, a delicatessen shop where Marie used to buy Spanish chorizo. Magda told me to make paella on Monday, and she only eats this particular brand of sausage in the dish. Since El Toro doesn’t deliver, I profit from picking up my order while spoiling Kris and Charlie.

  We get a table on the terrace at Roma’s and order spaghetti with scallops in basil-flavored cream. Charlie is working his way through his second Coke float. His eyes shine, and his cheeks have a healthy color. He’s even lost a bit of the flabbiness around his waist.

  “The change in him is remarkable, Kris.”

  She takes a sip of her wine. “He’s a good dog walker. Plus, it saves me a pack of time.”

  “It makes me happy to see him like this. I wish I could do more.”

  “So, what’s with the lunch?” she asks after we’ve eaten, direct as always.

  “I have good news. The university granted me a full bursary.”

  “I thought you dropped out.”

  “I did, but Gabriel said Marie should be back at work soon. I’ll have time to study again, and with the full bursary I won’t need to worry about the shortfall.”

  Leaning back, she crosses her arms. “What’s going on with him, Val?”

  “Nothing.” I pick at my napkin, tearing off small pieces. “Why?”

  I can’t tell anyone what happens behind the closed doors of Gabriel’s house. Especially not Kris. She won’t understand. Hell, sometimes I don’t understand.

  “He’s been to the practice.”

  I still. “Why?”

  “To buy cat and dog food, apparently. He’s got a standing order.”

  “He didn’t tell me.”

  “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

  I jerk my head up and glance at Charlie, but he’s engrossed in his drink. I can’t lie to her in her face, so I say nothing.

  “He’s a loan shark, and you’re indebted to him for nine years. You want to know what I think? I think you’re his sex toy. His favorite toy. For the moment, he dresses you up––yes, I saw the parcels he carried to my house––and he covers your bills. Hey, I’m not complaining. I need the business. All I’m saying is don’t fall in love with him.”

  I look away to where a mom and dad are having lunch with a cute little girl. “It’s not like that.”

  “How is it? Are you parading around for him in a French maid’s costume? Is that his fantasy?”

  I give her a chastising look. “Stop it.”

  “Every boy eventually grows tired of his toys, even his favorite toy.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” I say in a lowered voice. “He’s not all bad, Kris. I think he tries really hard to treat me well.”

  She leans forward. “He’s a goddamn killer. A criminal. The Breaker, Val. Do you need me to remind you how he kills people?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t sugarcoat him because he’s nice to you. Never forget who he is. More importantly, never forget who you are and what you are to him.”

  “What am I?”

  “Debt repayment. You’re a slave.”

  “Call it whatever you want, but I made a deal to save Charlie’s life. I’ll slave, whore, bust my ass, and work my fingers to the bone to keep him safe.”

  “What about your life?”

  Kris doesn’t know my history. She doesn’t know how Charlie picked me up in the gutter, battered and left for dead, and carried me home for more than two miles. She doesn’t know he sat next to my bed and held my hand every night after my assault when I was too afraid to close my eyes to sleep.

  “I made a choice, Kris. I made a promise to Gabriel Louw. You don’t break your promises to Gabriel. Give it a rest, will you? I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Jesus, Val. If this is your best, you’re heading for a cluster fuck. You cut off your finger for Christ’s sake.” She wipes a hand over her brow. “How is this going to play out?”

  “After nine years, I walk away, get a job, a nice house for Charlie and me, and get out of your hair.”

  “You’re not in my hair, kiddo, but I worry about you.”

  “I know.” I push my chair back, desperately needing air. “I’m taking Charlie for a walk.”

  “I’ll order dessert. Tiramisu?”

  “Sounds good. Come on, Charlie.” I take my brother’s arm and cross the Rosebank Square to stroll down the walkway past the shop fronts. Charlie stops to stare at every window. It’s not as much the objects he likes as the colors.

  “Charlie?”

  He points at a red bicycle in the sports shop. “Loo–look.”

  “What?” I want him to say it. I want to know what’s going on in his head.

  “Pre–pretty.”

  “What’s pretty?”

  “Lo–look.” He points again, getting frustrated.

  “The bicycle?”

  He’s already moved on, stuck in front of a shelf of colorful cycling helmets.

  “Li–like.”

  “Which one?”

  He rolls his shoulders like he does when he gets annoyed and carries on down the path with a brisk pace.

  I run to catch up, taking his hand. “Do you remember how you used to walk me home from school?”

  He hurries on toward the street. Once Charlie is on a mission, it’s difficult to distract him. He throws his whole weight into a task and won’t stop until he’s accomplished what he’s set out to do. I’m longing for the connection we once had. I’m aching to have my brother back, to give him back to himself, but he’s in his own world, and I sometimes wonder if I’m even part of it.

  We stop in front of a red Ferrari parked on the curb. This is what attracted his attention. When he puts out his hand to touch the shiny bodywork, I snatch it back.

  “Don’t touch the car. What did I say about touching things that aren’t ours?”

  “That’s all right,” a male voice says.

  I twirl around to where the voice comes from. The man facing us has blond hair and a tanned face with friendly, green eyes.

  “You can touch it if you like,” he says to Charlie. “It’s mine.”

  The man is as beautiful as his car. It’s the kind of sinful beauty that will make a woman forget her male companion at a party.

  I tug on Charlie’s hand. “We should go.”

  “I can take him for a spin, if you like.”

  “Spi–spin.”

  “Uh, thanks,” I push my hair behind my ear, “but my friend’s waiting for us.”

  “Pity.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Michael.”

  I reach out tentatively, but before I can make up my mind, he folds his broad palm around mine and squeezes. When I don’t say anything, he gives me an amused smile.

  “Your name?”

  “Valentina.”

  “That’s pretty.” He lets me go and shakes hands with Charlie. “You have good taste, eh…” He lifts a brow and waits.

  “Charlie,” I say.

  “Pleased to meet you both. Maybe we can talk about that spin. If you g
ive me your number, I can call when it’s convenient.”

  “Our dessert is ready.” The word ‘dessert’ will catch Charlie’s attention. “Thank you, anyway.”

  Charlie lets me lead him back across the square to our table.

  “Who’s that?” Kris asks.

  “I don’t know. Charlie liked his car.”

  “Ditto.” She waves her spoon at the plate in front of me. “Dig in. It’s delicious.”

  * * *

  It’s hard to say goodbye to Charlie. At least he seems happy. I let that thought soothe me as I cross the street to where Gabriel’s Jaguar waits. It’s Rhett who exits.

  “Hi,” I say, surprised. Gabriel said he’d fetch me.

  “Gabriel’s busy,” he says with a wink, holding the door for me.

  I wait until we pull off into traffic to ask, “Where is he?”

  “Business.”

  A shiver runs over me. Is he breaking someone’s bones? Killing someone?

  Rhett gives me a sidelong look. “It’s better not to ask.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” I glance through the window to escape his piercing eyes.

  “On the upside,” he continues brightly, “we can train.”

  I turn back to him quickly. “Really?”

  “He’ll be busy until late.”

  My mood picks up. I have to learn how to handle myself. Gabriel won’t be there to protect me forever. Like Kris said, he may grow tired of his new toy sooner than later.

  Rhett changes gears and speeds up when we hit the highway. “Why the sad face? Is your brother all right?”

  “Sunday blues.” I try to smile, but it’s a weak effort.

  We don’t talk for the rest of the way. At home, I change into my shorts and T-shirt and join Rhett in the gym. It’s weird to be here out of my own, free will. The gym represents a place of erotic pain and deep-seated pleasure for me. My body reacts at the thought, sending moisture to my folds. I shake my head and jiggle my fingers, physically expelling the unwelcome arousal at the memory of what Gabriel does to me here.

  “Ready?” Rhett walks around me like a boxer measuring his opponent.

  “Give me your worst.”

  He laughs. “You’re a funny one.”

  I fling around and punch him in the stomach. “Like this funny?”