Diavolo Ch. 07

"Hey, that's not bad, Gabe," Angelo was saying, hands on hips.

Gabriel blinked, his fingers freezing over the piano keys.

Michael already had a battered old notebook, scribbling furiously.

Gabriel took a deep breath and started from the beginning, this time adding his voice as words spilled from his heart.

*******

Abigail pulled up to the beach house just as the sun was setting. Turning off her Beetle, the warm early summer breeze caressed her skin when she opened the door. She loved the scent of the sea and barbecuing most people did in their back decks. The usual sounds of the waves lapping beneath the docks and board walks as well as gulls and motor boats moving about greeted her. Abigail sighed in contentment until a deep thrumming and distinct thumping sound made her cock her head to the side. It sounded vaguely like music, but was too muted for her to be sure. Perhaps one of the fancy boats in the bay behind the house, or the Yacht Club down the street. She wondered what Gabe was doing if he was still there at all. Maybe Michael had finally taken him home. That thought made her sad. He'd texted her about a million times asking her where she was. When she'd finally told him she was at the Montenegro estate, he'd gone silent.

Abigail wondered if he was mad. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was jealous of his brother. As for Daniel, it made her angry he saw Gabriel as little more than an illiterate delinquent who needed saving, quite preferably in some gilded cage with surveillance.

She opened the front door and rocked back on her heels when the blast of music hit her full force.

Mouth gaping, she rushed in and locked the door behind her. The soulful cry of guitars sang through her eardrums, the bass and drums vibrating through her feet from below, and Gabriel's voice almost had her going to her knees.

For long seconds she couldn't move, just absorbed it all in, until Gabriel began crooning her name, long, low, guttural. Good-lord! It was a song about her.

She stumbled her way down the stairs to the lounge by the pool table. They'd set up toward the back near the fireplace blocked now by Angelo's drum kit. They were so absorbed by what they were doing, they didn't see her sidle up next to Erica, who sat on one of the stools at the wet bar.

Erica noticed her arrival though, and grinned up excitedly at her.

Leaning over until her mouth was aligned with Abigail's ear, the girl said, "new song. Amazing, isn't it?"

Abigail could only nod.

Gabriel sat on one of the dining room chairs with his foot propped up on a little square ottoman. He was still shirtless, but his hair had dried, soft waves framing his face. His right arm was back in a sling, knuckles red and swollen, microphone held in his left hand close to his lips.

Abigail frowned at that.

Michael sat close to him and Abigail's eyes widened further when she saw the dark bruises under his eyes and swollen nose. He looked like he'd been hit in the face with a bat.

"Good. Stop," Gabriel said halting the song mid guitar riff.

The look he leveled on Abigail was not friendly at all.

So, he was mad.

She stiffened her spine and frowned at him. If he thought he was going to boss her around like her family, he had another thing coming. She didnt care that he'd just sang the most beautiful love song she'd ever heard with her name in it.

The trip to her mother's house had been in vain. Marjorie Brown was fitter than anyone in the room surrounding her at the moment.

Abigail had stomped up the stairs only to halt in the entry to her mother's bedroom.

Some tall extremely buff man, with orangey skin called Dolph was giving her a massage on one of those padded tables masseuse use.

She'd asked about her whereabouts, Abigail had been dutifully vague, and then she'd begun to yell at her, finishing off with tears, calling her ungrateful and inconsiderate. Apparently, Auntie Paulina had been threatening to boot her mom out of the house because of Abigail's insistence on carousing with the heathen devil-worshiper.

Said heathen was looking at her, smoke literally billowing from his nostrils.

He rubbed one finger across his sinful lips, green eyes smoldering.

"It was me," Erica was saying next to her.

"I'm sorry," Abigail said looking at her. "What?"

Erica smiled.

Abigail realized the girl's eyes were always kind of bugged out, like she was always surprised or something.

"I'm the one who undressed you," she shrugged with a giggle. "Thought you'd be more comfortable. I read somewhere that it's not good to sleep with a bra on. Bad for your boobs and circulation or something. Gabriel busted Mike's nose thinking he'd done it." Erica laughed as Abigail gasped in shock. "Boys, huh?"

"Oh-my-God." Abigail stalked toward where Mike and Gabriel talked. She stopped in front of Michael, taking in his battered face and then looked at Gabriel's bruised knuckles. The man was a savage.

"Well, hello, Abigail," the savage hissed tightly. "So glad you could finally join us."

She pressed her lips together, her eyes going back to Michael who just grinned, electric guitar propped on one knee with his arm draped casually over the top of it.

"How's Mikayla?'

The question startled her, her gaze swinging back to Gabriel's cold green eyes.

She tipped her nose up, swallowing down the hurt that threatened to choke her. Michael scowled at Gabriel, but he just remained looking at her with pure poison in his expression.

"She's just fine," Abigail spat, remembering with distaste the way she'd carried on with the chauffeur in the garage. The memory alone was enough to make her feel queasy.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed and Abigail actually heard him grinding his teeth. Veins stood out on his arms and neck. Oh, the man looked furious!

Michael slid from his stool and set his guitar down. Abigail wasn't sure if he made some sort of signal to the others, but Ariel was the first one to walk out after grabbing a beer for each hand. There was arguing by the drum kit. Apparently Angelo didn't want to budge. He got up because Michael grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hauled him toward the stairs. Angelo gave Gabriel the stink eye, pointing at him with one of his drumsticks as he was dragged up the stairs, Erica following close behind them. Gabriel curled one side of his lip and snarled.

Abigail turned back to him, arms crossed over her breasts. Gabriel just leaned back, thumb flicking a switch on the microphone.

There was nothing but silence between them now.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Raven?" she asked haughtily.

Gabriel shrugged. "So Daniel called and you went running?"

She frowned at him. "Daniel didn't call me."

"Oh?"

"No. It was Mikayla. You heard me talking to her."

"And what did she want?"

Abigail just stared at him. Why was he interrogating her? She didn't like it one bit, especially his tone and attitude.

"That's personal family business," she replied.

If anything, his eyes grew icier. The green so pale and the pupil so wide and black, he reminded her of a big cat about to kill its prey.

He looked away, a tendon in his jaw ticking.

She took the opportunity to look around as well, her belly feeling leaden with dread. She didn't want to fight. She didn't like it. Her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty. She wanted to collapse into his lap and touch him. Erase all this bad situation away with his kisses.

"I'll get the guys to clear all this stuff out. We'll be out of your hair in less than an hour."

Her heart sank further. "'Kay," she answered stupidly. Her eyes burned, but she blinked them hard. Not knowing what else to do she began heading toward the stairs.

Rafael burst into the lounge through the glass doors, his tightly curled hair a wild mess and eyes glittering. "Damn, Gabe. You have no fucking idea how hard it was for me and my buddies to locate your fucking house. Good thing Rick recognized your boat, man. Hey, Abs!"

He planted a hard kiss on her cheek as she just stared at him dumbfound.

"What'd I miss? Mike said you were inspired and writing some new tunes. Three songs so far."

"I'm sorry," Abigail said gripping his arm. "Did you say...Gabe's house?"

Rafe laughed, but then his eyes widened as he looked at Gabriel.

Abigail felt a wave of cold dread wash over her. She turned to see Gabriel looking at Rafe wide-eyed as well, before sliding a very guilty gaze back at her.

All this time she'd been living and sleeping in Gabriel's house? He was paying her?

The horror of it floored her. Had he tricked her into living here to make it easier for him to seduce her? And he was paying her...as if she were a whore?

"Oh-god," she whispered, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness overtook her.

"Easy, Abs," Rafe exclaimed gripping her arms.

"Abigail," Gabriel called out. "It's nothing. Don't make a big deal out of this."

He had the nerve to still sound angry? She gazed at him, feeling nothing but a strange numbness seeping into her. "I'm fine," she told Rafe.

Rafe let her go and she made her way to her room. No. The room she slept in. For now.

"Abigail, get back here," Gabriel snapped.

Abigail turned, hands fisted at her sides. She took a deep breath and said in her most polite, but direct, no nonsense tone, "Fuck you, Mr. Raven."

And then she ran into the room, locked the door behind her, and threw up on the floor.