Stepbrother Thief(93)

“To deal with the mess I've made of my life,” Gill grumbles quietly, eyes still locked on mine. “But I won't be gone long, I promise. I won't ever leave like that again.”

I swallow hard and look away, desperately wishing I could throw myself into Gill's arms. But Papa's looking right at me again, and I need time to think. I reach up and find that I'm still wearing my mother's necklace. Must've slept in it last night.

Silence stretches uncomfortably between the three of us; I hate silences.

“I'm gonna take a quick shower,” I say, looking to each of them in turn, keeping a neutral smile on my face. My thoughts are whirring so loud that I can barely discern what they're trying to say, the decisions they're saying I have to make. “When I get out, maybe I can make some pancakes?”

Gill smiles softly.

“I'd love that, Regina,” he whispers, taking a slow step towards me, “but I'll already be gone by the time you get out. A colleague of mine will be here until Aveline gets back tonight.” I must make some sort of face because Gill adds, “he's good at what we do.” And I believe him. In this, I completely and utterly trust Gill's judgment.

In other arenas …

I nod, and then there's this awkward moment where neither of us knows whether we should hug or kiss or …

“I'll miss you, Gill,” I say, taking a step forward and brushing a gentle kiss across his mouth. “Be careful out there, okay?” He gives my hip a little squeeze and lets go, nodding as I step away and head up the back stairs, taking my coffee with me.

Getting back together with Gilleon seems like an inevitability for me.

I'm not sure whether I should be ecstatic—or terrified.

The first time Gill betrayed me, he broke my heart; I wouldn't last a second time.





The rest of my week is uneventful; I'm not sure if that's because it pales in comparison to what happened between Gill and me, or because Cliff's been carefully avoiding spending any alone time together. The only remarkable things that've happened since Tuesday are the sappy texts I've been getting from Gilleon—I'm spending every single second dreaming of your smile—and the introduction of some guy named Ewan who barely talks and whose expressionless mask is twice as hard as my stepbrother's. I can only wonder what happened to make him that way. At the very least, he seems a capable bodyguard.

As for the texts … I don't really know how to respond to them; they're so reminiscent of the notes he used to leave around the house when we were together that I find myself drifting off into wistful remembrances every time I get one. It's gotten so bad that I even switched out my usual horror movie watching last night for a romantic comedy. It was as terrible as I'd expected it to be.

I'm curled up in my usual spot on the couch, a Netflix movie—back to horror again—flickering in the background, when I get my first actual phone call on my new cell. I'm in the process of reading yet another text from Gill—home soon, ma belle petite fleur—when a familiar number pops up on the screen. I should probably recognize it, but my stomach's still in knots over last night's text, and I'm not thinking clearly. Right now, I'm actually awaiting a pretty exciting delivery: Gill had most of our items shipped from France. Since the authorities aren't involved, there's no reason to pretend that Cliff, Solène, or I am … well, dead. That was the whole point of the operation: leave no trace, leave no trail. The scariest part about all of that is—as Gill relayed to me in his text—that's the usual MO for his new boss' teams. Gilleon claims that he'd never hurt an innocent, and I'm inclined to believe him, but still … I can't help but remember those two men in the hotel room.

“Hello?” I ask, slightly confused, my mind wrapped up in Gill and Karl and all of the secrets I don't yet know, that I have to know, but that I'm not sure I want to.

“Regina!” It's Leilani, my childhood best friend, the very first person I ever admitted my crush on Gill to, the girl with an entire sleeve of Star Wars tattoos. We're pretty much polar opposites on the interest scale, but our mannerisms and personality are similar enough that this friendship works well. Even long distance, we manage to stay close. “Oh my God, oh thank God.” I can hear the raw relief in her voice, the pain that I must've caused by disappearing into thin air.

I swallow hard, remembering Gill's warning about putting her and Anika in danger.

“Gill called me this morning and I just about had a heart attack.”

“He called you?” I ask, completely and utterly baffled.

“He did, gave me your number and everything. Regi, if you're really in Seattle right now, then you're going to meet me for coffee, so I can wring your neck. How could you?” she asks, her voice warbling with unshed tears. I blink some of my own away, the full realization of what I was willing to give up hitting me hard. My friends, my sister, my boyfriend, my fucking freedom. All for Gill. Since the first second I saw him, I should've known. I. Should. Have. Known.