Stepbrother Thief(109)
Right now, that decision for me remains the same: I'll stay with Gill.
“I don't consider what happened your fault, Gilleon. Your mom's, maybe, or Karl's son's, or most especially Karl himself. But not yours.” I pull my gaze from my wineglass and look up at him, past the garlic bread and the raviolis, the tea light and the rose. Gill's blue eyes are full to bursting, like somewhere in there he has as many tears waiting to spill as I do, but neither of us sheds them. Tonight isn't a night for tears. “But you leaving like that … you should've told me. Everything. I should have known everything. As a couple, as a team, as a partnership, it wasn't your responsibility to decide what to do.” I take a deep breath. “It was ours.”
Gill nods and scoots in closer, like he wants to get up and come to me. But again, the public nature of our surroundings makes things easier, simpler, smoother. If he took me in his arms right now, I might actually start crying and that won't help. Instead, I let Gill reach across the small table and wrap his big hand over mine, the tattoos on his fingers stark in the dim lighting, but beautiful nonetheless.
“You're right, Regina, and I'm sorry. If I could do it all over again, I'd make different choices.”
“Like asking me to rob Karl's store with you? To run? To start a whole new life? Gill, I saw through you right from the start.” I lean in towards him, my pulse pounding in my throat, my heart thumping hard and heavy in my chest. “Again, you should've told me what and why and how right from the get-go. You came to me with an agenda, with—and correct me if I'm misinterpreting this—the sole purpose of getting back together, but yet you acted like you couldn't care less about me.”
The way his muscles tense, hand curling tighter around mine, I know he isn't going to argue: I'm right and he knows it.
“You risked my life, and your father's, and your daughter's,” I pause for a moment to take a breath, “just so you might have the opportunity of having a life with me.” My lips twitch a little. It's so tragically romantic that I almost smile. Almost. “But you didn't tell me the truth. If you had …” I close my eyes for a moment and breathe deep. If you had, we might've ended up here a whole hell of a lot sooner. But what's past is past. I can't let it affect me anymore. I won't let it affect us. “You know what?” I open them back up and look Gilleon straight in the face. “It doesn't matter. The point is, you should've told me the truth.”
“I'm sorry,” he says, voice low, his gaze searching my expression. When Gill tries to pull his hand away, I won't let him, tangling our fingers together and watching as his breath hitches and his eyes grow hooded. “Regi …”
I wave my hand like it's not important. It is; it so is. I've waited over a decade to hear why, to understand how—when I never could've even dreamed of being separated from him—Gill could walk away and never come back. Now I know. It's strange, like a hole I've been carrying around forever is suddenly full, and I don't quite know what to do with it.
“I'm still with you, Gill.” This time, I do smile. It hurts, just a little, but there it is. He smiles back at me, but only for an instant. There's still a lot to talk about, and he's still worried. I am, too, but for different reasons. This thing between us, it'll work. I know it will. All of the, uh, criminal activity we're having to deal with … that's another story. “Now, tell me everything.” I point my finger at him and sit back, keeping our hands clasped together. “And I mean everything. If we're going to do this, I need to understand what's happening with you.” I lift my wine to my lips and let the taste linger on my tongue for a moment. “According to Aveline, you traded the tyranny of one criminal mastermind for the protection of another, is that right?”
“It is.” Gill's voice is husky and rough, deep and low. I can see dark shadows creeping across his face, but that's okay. I'm here now and we can get through this together. “Although nothing's going the way it should. Max … Aveline … me … we all underestimated how much Karl cares about my future.” Gill clenches his jaw tight, but keeps those perfect eyes focused on me. I have to resist the urge to lean across the table and kiss his forehead.
“Where have you been all week?” I ask him, giving him the chance to come clean so we can start this out the right way, work towards a future together. Because the only person I've ever seen myself with is this man sitting across from me—master thief status and all. If our fight's not over yet, then it's not over, but I want to know about it.
“With Max,” Gill answers without hesitation, pouring himself yet another glass of wine. Bottle's empty now. Somewhere near the front of the room, some live music starts up, all haunting strings and aching bows. “Trying to figure this all out. Karl offered Max a deal—the diamonds for me, free and clear, no bad blood between them. Max thought we could try the other way around—give the diamonds back and forget about me.” A small shake of his head. “Max knows I can make back that money and then some given enough time.” Gill runs his left hand down his face. The stress from the last few weeks is starting to get to him, to tighten the muscles in his face and shoulders. “No deal.”