Undertaking Love Page 0,86

then.’ She smiled at Gabe and nodded towards Dora’s dress in his hands.

Gabe watched her leave. As soon as she’d disappeared inside the chapel, he strode through the funeral parlour and right out of the back door, pausing only to lay the dress down and grab his helmet on the way past.

Some things just couldn’t wait.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Gabe ditched his motorbike outside the glass front of The Herald’s offices half an hour later and strode straight through reception, much to the annoyance of the middle-aged brunette who’d been surreptitiously reading her Hello magazine behind the welcome desk.

Every head in the huge open-plan office turned to look at the leather-clad figure as he pulled off his helmet. Some of them probably recognised him as the man they’d attempted to ruin a couple of weeks back for the sake of selling a few copies, and others were just struck dumb by the sight of a dark angel in their midst.

He turned to the girl nearest, who according to her name badge was trainee reporter called Esther.

‘Where will I find Rupert Dean?’

She swallowed and waved a vague arm towards the glass offices that ran across the length of the back of the room.

Gabe nodded curtly and headed through the desks at a pace, not bothering to knock as he flung Rupert’s office door open.

Rupert automatically minimised the lazy lunchtime pornography on his screen before he glanced up, and then turned pale as he realised exactly who had just barged into his office.

Gabe slammed his helmet down and braced his hands flat on Rupert’s desk.

‘I can tolerate you printing a crock of bullshit about me in your piss poor excuse for a newspaper.’

The entire staff of the newsroom strained to hear every last word. They downed tools and watched agog as Rupert turned puce and fiddled with the knot of his old boys’ tie.

‘And I couldn’t give a flying fuck about you following me around at night with a camera.’

Rupert licked his lips and glanced nervously out at his audience as Gabe advanced around the desk and towered over him.

‘Stand up.’

‘What for?’

‘Because I’m going to hit you.’

A gasp of excitement rippled through the staff.

‘Get out of my office right now!’ Rupert blustered. ‘Security!’

Gabe hauled Rupert roughly onto his feet and backed him against the wall of his office.

‘Get your dirty hands off me! Help!’ Rupert yelled, but no one moved a muscle.

‘But the one thing I really can’t stand is men who hurt women. This is for Marla.’

And with that, Gabe smacked his fist straight into Rupert’s jaw.

Rupert howled and wiped his mouth with his arm. ‘Fuck off, Ryan! The little bitch deserved it!’

‘I doubt it, but you deserve this.’

Gabe hit him again, harder this time causing blood to spring from Rupert’s nose and splatter down the front of his pristine candy stripe shirt.

‘You bastard! That’s only just healed after that Freddie fucking Mercury wannabe broke it!’

Gabe made a mental note to shake Jonny’s hand the next time he saw him.

Rupert spat out blood and breathed hard, a crazed glint in his eye.

‘You really think you stand a chance with her now I’m not in the picture?’ He sneered at Gabe. ‘Good old Gabriel, patron saint of dead dogs.’

Gabe watched him, trying to decide where to hit him next.

‘You’re so dumb, Irish. Always trying to do the right thing. You didn’t even realise that I was shagging both of them right under your nose, did you?’

‘Both of them?’

Rupert laughed, enjoying his big revelation. ‘You want to watch that receptionist of yours, Gabriel.’ Rupert pointed his finger in Gabe’s face. ‘You’ve got yourself a right little viper in the nest, there. Right little viper in the sack too, actually.’

Melanie?

Gabe shook his head and backed away. ‘You disgust me. Just stay the fuck away from Marla.’

He picked up his helmet, and the staff parted like the crowds of Galilee, clearing a path for him.

Jonny kicked open the funeral parlour door and eyed Melanie with distaste. ‘Get Gabriel.’

Fake regret dripped from Melanie’s every pore as she shook her head.

‘Sorry. He’s unavailable.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

Melanie looked momentarily disconcerted by Jonny’s bald confrontational manner, before she recovered herself and lifted a nonchalant shoulder.

‘Sorry. Do you want to leave a message?’

‘With you?’ Jonny laughed. ‘Err, hello? I don’t think so, honey. You have a nasty little habit of not passing messages on, don’t you?’

Melanie stared at him with a bland expression, but Jonny noticed the agitated way she fidgeted with her pencil. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

‘Really?’ Jonny spat back