Tried for Love (TSATD)

Chapter 12

Gabriel

  Not once in the years while working with such horrid cases of the Mafia had I allowed myself to be moved by panic. It was an emotion my self-control refused to let master me. And yet the news I had received had my mind racing in some dysfunctional order, my body moved by some inner force that was out of my reach to rule..

  A harsher step on the gas and I would've lost control over the car and perhaps crashed somewhere too. Like Paul had. The Cotès too. A bark of curses left some dark place in my chest by the mere thought of what I had seen on the news. I stepped on the gas.

  There was no time.. No time to think of the catastrophe that had ended so many lives. No space in my mind to worry about that, nor allow myself to feel even the slightest spark of grief. It was Leah.. Leah I had on my mind, once again. My heart pounded against my chest with one merciless rhythm at the simple thought of her hurt.

  Hell, it wasn't right. It wasn't right to feel such worry. And yet it was I that had made a promise.. A vow. To her now dead father. How could I fail him on the day of his death? A murder committed by some fool we still had no track on. Damnation. The same bastards that could be already after the only living family Paul had left. His daughter.

  There was something about the thought of already being late that pressed against my chest with a harsher strength than the news about that car crash did. She— No, she had to be alive. Alive and well, in her condo. She had lost her father, and her fiancé, but hell, she was alright. She had to be.

  The other problem was, I was damned tired of the endless beeps. "Fuckįng hell! Why isn't she picking up her damned phone?!" To my roar, the phone was snatched from my hand.

  "She could be dead." Ethan's little statement had my blood run cold in my veins. I took a sudden right— we needed a shortcut. The little bastard beside me got a well deserved bump against the window with the side of his head. "And we might be dead too if you continue with this speed."

  "You're not helping." It was a rasp, a growl, a threat.

  "I'm trying! I'm calling her."

  Her. The woman I had argued with just that morning.. The one I swam with just that night.. Had her in drenched clothes in my arms when I kissed her, and then got a damned attitude for the next two hours while we drove back to Paris. Leah fucking Rowe. She had to be alive. I had vowed to Paul that I would get her home safe. I did.

But she was not safe. I could not fail.. Not her, not Paul.

  "Did you send your people to inspect the accident?" Barely aware of my own words, I still felt prickling tremors rush down my spine at the mention of that tragedy. Six dead on the very spot. Hell, Leah, pick up the damned phone. "Call her again."

  "I'm calling. And yes, I sent them."

  For some reason, my mind seemed to had lost all track of thoughts, and I knew damned well that I could keep pretty sane during missions. Fear never gripped me. And yet at that point I found myself terrified by the idea of Leah hurt. I could not break a vow. I never broke a vow. Unless I was too damn late. Hell— I couldn't be. I refused to be.

  I was saying something.. "I think I called Stephen and Bran for backup." Then, since I couldn't get my blanked mind to remember. "Did I?"

  "You did. And I told Jack to send his people over at the crash as well." Good. At least we were organized. Still, without a damned plan.

  Stepping on the break in one swift kick, we stopped mid-track, and instead of thinking how whoever went after Paul and the Cotès could be after us, I blocked my mind out the way I did every mission and pushed the door opened.