Page 120 of Possessive Sinner
I don't know what to say, so I say nothing, just blink a few times. "That's it? You—" I let out a short, disbelieving breath. "You looked at me once and decided to what? Send me tickets to a ball?"
He shrugs.
More things click into place. Shit. The damn handbag. All the stupid prizes I won lately. For contests I hadn't even entered… fuck!
"You sent me the handbag? You paid for my car repair? You paid for us to go to that ball?" My voice sharpens as more and more things come to mind. He doesn't deny any of it. Just tilts his head. Shrugs one more time.
"I was married… Why would you…" Another thought enters my head. No. It's my turn to shake my head. No, that can't be. He wouldn't… Pete dug into things he shouldn't have… he poked the bear, so to speak. Right? But once the thought is there. There are others. The timing of Gabe's entrance into the warehouse. No. No. That can't be. I rein myself in. I will think about it. But not right now.
"Look." Gabe, blissfully ignorant of the path my thoughts have taken, because…let me handle this… continues. "I know what it sounds like, what it looks like. After the ball… After I talked to you. I tried to keep my distance. I knew you were happily married and that Pete was a good guy…"
"A good guy?" I echo.A good guy?
The words sit heavy in my chest, twisting something sharp and painful. Gabe—Gabe knew that. Knew enough to say it. Knew enough tomeanit. Which means… my stomach drops. Cold. Because he didn't just watch me. He watchedus. For howlong? And… how much? Now I'm starting to feel sick. My pulse starts to pick up. Thoughts spiral faster, slip out of my control.
"You knew that," I say slowly. "How?"
His gaze doesn't waver. That steady, unbothered calm that suddenly feels a whole lot more sinister than reassuring.
"I looked into you," he reiterates.
Like that explains everything. Like that makes it okay. But it doesn't. It makes it worse.
"So what," I press, taking a step closer without realizing it, "you were just… watching my life? Waiting?"
The word hangs there.Waiting. For what? For something to go wrong? For me to become available? For—No. I stop myself right there and shake my head slightly, as if I can physically dislodge the thought before it takes root.
"That doesn't give you the right to insert yourself. To interfere. To—" My hand lifts, gesturing sharply between us. "Toengineerthings."
His expression doesn't change. Not defensive. Not apologetic. Just… steady.
"To invite me into your world? Watch me? Investigate me?" Each word lands harder. "Manipulate the situation so I'd end up exactly where you wanted me?"
When he doesn't answer, I snap, "You had no right."
My chest is rising and falling too fast now. My pulse roars loudly in my ears. Because this… this isn't protection. This isn't even about control. This isobsession.
"That's not normal," I accuse, no less sharp. "That's not okay."
"No," he agrees.
Just like that. No denial. No justification. For some reason, that makes it worse. My breath catches for a second. Because he's not pretending. Not softening it. Not making it easier for me to accept. He's just… owning it.
"I didn't plan this," he adds. "Not like this."
A humorless huff leaves me. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks pretty damn deliberate."
"It started that way," he admits.
Another hit. Another crack in whatever I thought this was.
"But this?" His gaze drops briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. "This isn't."
The air shifts again. That pull. That awareness. Still there. Stronger now. Despite everything. Despite what I just found out.What the hell is wrong with me?
"I saw you at the police station," his voice turns deeper. "And yeah, I liked you from that moment and wanted to get to know you. But you were married, so I kept my distance. I didn't want to interfere in your life like that. But I couldn't entirely stay away from you. So be fucking mad at me." He shrugs. "The devil knows I deserve it. All of it. But I'm not going to apologize for liking you. For wanting you."
"And while we're at it, I can see it in your face. I had nothing to do with Pete's murder. Did I want him gone? Fuck yes. Did I want him dead?" He shrugs. "I wouldn't have cared how he got out of your life as long as he did. What I didn't want or do, what I never did and would never do, is anything that would hurt you."
