GUILTY (Gabe's Trials)

Of Gods and Men

"Go ahead, Mathew. I'll drive her home." My sarcastic laugh attracted the attention of the two men, making both of them watch me carefully for a moment. 

"I'm not letting you drive me anywhere. You smell like a fucking distillery." Those eyes of his darkened further -if that was even possible- his hands fisting at his sides in an obvious attempt at controlling his temper. 

"And we've seen you drive, dea." Something in his statement -probably the tone of voice he'd used- made me want to kick his ass. Unfortunatelly, I was quite sure I wouldn't have been capable of something like that. Gabriel was a killing machine, whereas I was... Well, not so much of one. 

"Is there something wrong with my driving?" Mathew's amused smile was visible even from the distance, a look in Gabriel's direction confirming to me that he found my question funny too.

"I'm surprised you're still alive, Julia. I'm not giving you the chance of trying to kill yourself -and me- again." Gritting my teeth, I started tapping my foot on the pavement. If he thought that I was going down without a fight, then he was fucking delusional. But then he started to speak again, not giving me the chance to reply his accusations. "Even drunk, I'm gonna do a much better job than you, dea. You can be sure of that." Nodding his head in his wingman's direction, I could see Mathew nodding right back before turning around and climbing into the car. Why the fuck was he letting Gabe do something so stupid?

My eyes returned to my murderer's face just in time to see him watching me closely, his lips slightly parted.

"I didn't sleep with her. I wasn't going to." Well, that would've at least explained why he was hitting her. Appearently, my murderer was still not into hurting the women he slept with. Oh no, he had other women he was turning to for that.

"It wasn't your first time there." I should've been an idiot not to have figured that out. That bouncer wouldn't have let me in if not for my tattoo, which meant that he knew I belonged to Gabriel. And that meant that he also knew Gabriel himself. See my point?

Not bothering to deny it, the man who'd broken my heart yet again, simply nodded his head. Closing my eyes, I allowed Ed's words to sink in -something about an ending- while I did my best to keep the next question from rolling off my tongue. It was useless though. I needed to know.

"How many women?" Tears choked me and I hated myself for showing signs of weakness. I needed answers and I seriously doubted the fact that my tears were going to get me some. Gripping my chin, Gabriel forced my face up, his sorrowful eyes boring into mine. 

"Only one, dea. I saw you in all of them." That was not an answer. That didn't give me a number. I needed a fucking number. 

"How many, Gabriel?" Releasing his hold of my chin, my murderer looked away before answering.

"I don't remember." My mouth opened, but then closed again, my knees feeling weak. "Dea..." Taking a step forward, my murderer wrapped one of his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. I didn't even flinch. "I was broken. I needed healing." And that was his idea of healing? Sleeping with some strange women in some even stranger bars?

"I was broken too, for God's sake." My violent reaction took him aback, Gabriel's arm immediately untangling from my waist, his entire body going rigid before my eyes. "Do you think it was easy for me to let you go? Do you honestly think that it didn't take every ounce of strength I had to ask you to leave?" Tears flowed down my face, but I was way past caring about if he saw me crying or not. I was so deeply wounded by him, that all I could do was try not to literally crumble to the ground. "I needed healing too. And yet I've never tried to replace you with somebody else." Those beautiful hazels I loved so much widened with something resembling horror as his arms shot out and encircled me.