“Knock it off with the alpha male posturing, you two,” Gabby groaned. “Dec, can you fish my key from my messenger bag?”
Grabbing her purse and his duffel from the back seat, Declan pushed the SUV door closed as Kelso grunted his “Later.”
Gabby lived in a gated apartment complex in Hawthorne. There was no guard at the gates, but the equipment seemed to be the latest in multi-home security.
“Beverly Hills’s not your thing?”
“No.” She winced.
“Want me to carry you?”
“Hell no.”
Declan bit back a retort. This was not his sweet Gabrielle. That girl was gone, and a part of him ached at that loss. They continued their slow walk to the wide steps that led to her second level unit. Gabby limped up the steps, putting her weight on the hand holding the banister. She had bruised ribs and hips, and when she nearly face-planted in the middle of the staircase, Declan had witnessed enough and took over. He secured his duffel on his back and swept her up in his arms.
“Put me down!”
“Shut it, Gabby.”
“How dare you!” She had the sense not to struggle and risk sending them tumbling down the steps.
“Which unit is yours?”
“I can walk.”
“Which one, goddammit!”
“Two-twelve.”
“Thank you.”
When they got to her apartment, he lowered her to her feet and opened the door. Gabby quickly turned off the alarm and moved into the kitchen.
“There are drinks in the refrigerator. I may take a while to gather my things.”
Declan ignored her plan to blow him off. They needed to get a few things straight. He looked around. Gabby Woodward was a minimalist. Her furniture had simple lines, all wood frames with olive green canvas cushions, almost like seventies type furniture. There were no plants in the house, no clutter on the coffee table. A gray area rug beneath it. Magazines were in their racks. No photographs.
What happened to the woman who couldn’t wait to frame their Vegas wedding pictures and display them on the mantel? He passed her kitchen. At least there were dirty dishes in the sink and she still cooked. His Gabby liked to cook.
His Gabby?
Shit.
He followed her where she disappeared down the hallway. Three bedrooms. Yeah. This wouldn’t work for all of them. He could imagine Theo’s horror if he was forced to live here. Though it would do the kid some good to experience simplicity.
As a private military contractor, Declan lived without fear, without a care for his own life, and in search of the next adrenaline rush, but at this moment, there was a rattling anxiety at facing a seventeen-year-old boy.
He heard a curse and a thump from the last bedroom on the right. As he made the turn, he saw Gabby with a suitcase on the bed.
“Let me help—”
“I can manage!”
“I know, but you should have waited for me,” he replied calmly.
“What? So you can gloat how the mighty has fallen? It’s my choice you know,” she said bitterly. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you pity me.”
Anger flared inside him. “Pity? Pity is the last thing I’m feeling. Try guilt.”
“Don’t,” she bit out, her face crumpling. “I don’t want to hear about you and Claudette.”
Throwing Claudette in his face had gone on long enough. He had to come clean.
“See,” Declan exhaled deeply. “I didn’t sleep with Claudette.”
Her eyes widened and then scathing doubt crept into them and she chuckled darkly. “Don’t try to change your story because that’ll be a lie. You’re trying to ease your guilt.”
“And how about yours, huh? You broke our vows. Slept with another man!” His voice rose as the image of Nick on top of her flashed through his head.
“I told you I didn’t.”
“I. Was. There,” he gritted, his breath ragged. “I nearly killed the man. I dragged your almost naked body …” His voice broke off as he squeezed his eyes shut as pieces of that night came back like shards of glass piercing his chest.
All he saw was red.
That was the night Declan understood the phrase blinded with rage.
“Nothing happened, I …” She gripped her head in a sob. “I tried to tell you over and over.”
“You fucking married him before the ink was even dry on our divorce papers!”
“It’s my fault, okay? Everything! Happy now? Just please … I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We’re only hurting each other. And my head hurts, dammit.”
Gabby sank to the bed and sucked in a strangled sob.
Declan clenched his fists. He wanted to hug her and throttle her at the same time. He