unconditional (BOOK #2) [TO BE PUBLISHED]

Chapter 66 - Gabriel POV

Chapter 66 – Gabriel POV

For a long time, I didn't know whom I could trust, my father at a young age made it known to trust no one, and then tried to turn around and make me trust him. But by age twelve I knew better, no man would do to a child they wanted to earn trust from what my father did to me. I guess I should only be so lucky that I knew he wasn't singling me out, oh no... he did the same to Samuel, Ethan and Andrew as well.

Although he took it lighter on Ethan and Andrew, like humans we too had finger prints, however I do not. Many wolves – rogues especially – will burn off their children's' finger prints, and by the time they shift there will be no way to heal from that damage. Andrew and Ethan still had fingerprints, which may be why they trusted my father's words. They were lucky; they didn't suffer the painful process of having acid painted on their fingers.

But trust...it's a funny thing, sometimes you trust, place faith and hope in the oddest person, for the simplest reasons. Remington, Remy, Nona, Nonno, James... Chelsea. I had a short list of people, while someone other might feel my list of trustworthy people are strong. I think I would be adding Marx, Jack and many more to that list right now. Marx because I was going to total an entire pack, and he was following me, Jack, because he just found his human mate and left her behind to find and retrieve my mate. Then there was Logan, but he was for a reason all on its own accord.

When I was creating Kai, I was twelve years old, angry with my father and secret as all fuck, but I realized my father had no morals; none.

So before I lost mine, like I knew I would have too, I developed Kai, my moral backbone, my system that progressively learns and over thirteen years helped me make decisions, using the psychological sciences, mathematics as well as creating a small humanized section.

After creating Kai I tested by using multiple integrity, honesty, ethics gathering answers and comparing, not to describe answers to moral dilemmas as 'right,' or 'wrong.' Because even I couldn't do so, Logan was the same... when our paths crossed I always wondered about his take and where he stood. Was it right or wrong to kill off those that stood in the way of getting to his sister? Especially when he was doing so because he had both 'strong,' and 'weak,' moral obligation, he was in the middle. Or I guess I'd say his obligation was to his sister, like mine was now with Chelsea.

Why even bother think of this at a time like now? When Logan realized he couldn't spend all his time coming up with creative, ingenious ways to kill off the people who've hurt his sister or other women, especially humans, he went to C4, covering murders, forcing them to appear as accidental home injuries, coloring fallen private planes of the rich who used their wealth to hide their sick and repulsive behaviors as simple malfunctions.

The world was full of sick bastards, and twice as many stupid ones.

Now, as I strode briskly to the hatch on the bus I had us collected in, I was modeling myself, the man I hid from Chelsea, the man I was before. The man Logan sometimes modeled, who didn't bat an eye to get me the items I requested.

.

.

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Opening the hatch, Nonno, Marx and Declan approached me with wide horrified eyes, Nonno though, he looked both proud and dismayed, "I'm going to replicate, in my own way, the 1992 Guadalajara Explosions," I said my way of answer to their unasked questions.

They stared blankly, "There were a series of ten explosions there, but we will only manually be setting four," I handed each of them a flammable fabrics along with small amounts of C4, while I grabbed four containers of lighter fluid one for each levy and finally a larger one.