Corrupted Queen - Nicole Fox Page 0,91

a dark place in my mind and I push forward with cold, steely resolve. I make notes on everything I heard, descriptions of the size of the boat, the containers being unloaded. I make sure I get a photo of everyone at the meet, condemning each of them with a click of my camera.

The meeting ends within the hour, and both Gabriel and Miguel take off in opposite directions in their SUVs, each leaving a couple of representatives to supervise the rest of the unloading. My phone begins to buzz and I pull it from my pocket. It’s Gabriel. He must have heard that I slipped the guards, and I realize if I don’t head back to the mansion soon, he’ll send a whole horde of cavalry after me, and the last thing I need is for them to discover me with all of this equipment.

I don’t answer the call, but I text him.

I’m fine. I’ll be home soon.

Even as I type it, I feel a sting knowing that I no longer have a home with him. Not the mansion, not the handsome Victorian with the leafy backyard. Not anywhere.

Gabriel replies. Answer the phone!

He calls again, and I ignore it again. He can worry as much as he likes. Maybe then he’ll develop an understanding for what it’s like knowing your loved one’s out there, beyond the realm of your control, one dose of purple poison away from becoming just another statistic.

After the rest of the containers have been unloaded, the representatives from each faction march to their separate cars and leave. They have both been glaring at each other this entire time, almost comically so, and I bet they’re happy not to have to puff their chests out and look tough anymore.

I let myself down from the container and haul all of Debbie’s equipment back to the car, pocketing the memory card from the camera. A sense of calm flows over me as I drive it to the arranged drop-off spot. No, not calm. Resignment. I am resigned to what I am about to do, all the ripples it will cause, and how it will permanently board up a future that I never realized I would mourn so much.

After I drop off the car, I wander through the city, dreading the thought of returning to all the delights of the mansion, each of them bought and paid for with the suffering of people like Clara. Gabriel keeps calling, so I turn my phone off.

I don’t stray for too long. I need to get back to Harry, and the memory card lies heavy in my pocket. I just need enough time to breathe, to prepare for what I’m about to do. To gather my nerve.

I take a taxi back to the house as it starts to get dark. They must have radioed Gabriel from the gatehouse because he’s waiting on the front step when we pull up in front of the house. I pay the driver and get out, taking long strides up to the front door. Pretending that I don’t feel Gabriel’s gaze on me like laser beams.

“Where were you?” Gabriel asks.

I want to wave my hand at him, dismiss him with a few curt words and go straight to bed, but no doubt he would rightfully wonder what he’d done to elicit such callous treatment. He can’t know what I saw today, not until I push the truth out into the world, beyond his reach.

So I fold my features into sadness instead, resting a hand on his chest as I pass. “Can we talk later?” I ask quietly. “I just want to lie down for a bit.”

I can see the debate in his head. He wants to badger a response out of me. He asked a question, after all, and around here when Gabriel Belluci asks a question, you answer it. Plus, I can only imagine how furious he is with me for ignoring his calls.

But ultimately, the softer side of him wins out, the side that only Harry and I are privy to. He covers my hand with his and runs his other thumb down my cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod.

Gabriel releases me, and I head into the house. I hold onto my breath until I reach the top of the stairs and then release it in a gust, heading straight for Harry’s room. Jessica is negotiating his squirming limbs into some footie pajamas when I get there, and I take over so she can go