“Thank you, Gabriel Be –” She stops the instant I shake my head, then she chuckles and says, “Just Gabriel.”
“You’ll get used to it.” I glance at my wristwatch and notice it’s almost two am. “Shit, you must be tired.”
“No,” Lara replies quickly. “I had to stay in bed the whole day. I’m not tired at all.”
Before I can censor my words, I tease her, “Is that your way of asking me to keep you company?” The instant fear darkens her eyes, I quickly reach for her hand again. “I’m teasing, Lara.”
I have my work cut out for me but come hell or high water, I’ll somehow undo all the damage Mazur has inflicted on her.
My fingers wrap around hers, and I lean closer. With my eyes holding hers prisoner, I say, “You don’t have to fear me. I want you to talk to me like you’d talk with Nisa.”
Her eyebrows draw together, then she admits, “It’s difficult.”
“What’s difficult?” I murmur, keeping my tone gentle.
“Not being afraid of you.”
“Why?”
“You’re a man. Nisa’s like a mother to me.”
Jesus, is she saying what I think she’s saying?
Just to be sure, I ask, “Are you scared of Murat?”
“No, he’s my guard.”
It feels like I’m looking for a needle in a haystack as I ask, “How am I different from Murat?”
“You saved me,” comes her simple answer that packs one hell of a punch.
“I didn’t save you, Lara.” I’ve always been direct and never one to lie. Not about to start, I admit, “I’m the one who shot you.”
Chapter 21
Lara
Throughout our conversation tonight, I’ve started feeling more at ease with Gabriel, but I’m struggling to bring my point across, and it frustrates me.
“You saved me,” I repeat, not knowing how else to explain to him what impact he’s had on my life.
“Did you hear what I just said?” He tilts his head. “I’m the one who shot you. I almost killed you.”
It still feels wrong arguing, but I can’t keep the words back. “Because you shot me and brought me here, my whole life changed.”
“Jesus, Lara.” He stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Just how fucking bad was it living at Mazur’s that you see being shot and almost killed as a blessing?”
My eyes lower to where he’s still holding my hand. I can’t keep my voice from quivering as I admit, “You’re the first man to hold my hand.”
Instantly he pulls away, and I lift my eyes to meet his. “You’re the first man who hasn’t hurt me.” Every good emotion I’ve felt since coming here bursts like fireworks in my chest. “You saved me.”
Gabriel stares at me, and I watch as worry tightens his features. “When you say hurt, what does that entail?”
Traumatic flashes of beatings and whippings shudder through me.
Once I laid unconscious for a whole day after a beating. I couldn’t use my right arm for two weeks, and my eyes were swollen shut.
Another time some skin came off with the shredded blouse after Tymon gave me fifty lashes for being five minutes late with his tea because the bus ran late after school. I couldn’t sleep on my back for weeks and never returned to school.
I’m so lost in the hell I endured that I startle when Gabriel’s palm cups my jaw. “Talk to me, Lara.”
Not wanting to relive the hell I’ve been through, I shake my head and lie, “I guess I’m tired after all.”
He tilts his head, his gaze searching mine before saying, “Then I’ll let you rest.”
We stand up at the same time, and I’m instantly overly aware of how close we’re standing to each other. My head tilts back, and my stomach does the weird flip-flop when my eyes rest on his face.
“Maybe one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me what happened?” he asks.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but knowing he doesn’t like it when I do that, I just nod.
Gabriel brushes past me, then I turn to watch him leave my bedroom, silently wishing he had stayed and slept on the armchair again.
For a moment, I just stand between the table and the bed, not knowing how to process everything that happened tonight.
Then the importance hits like a ten-pound hammer, the air whooshing from my lungs. I wrap an arm around my waist as I slump down on the side of the bed in total shock.
Gabriel has accepted me. More so, he was friendly, understanding, and even supportive. He went out of his way to set me at ease.
Lifting a trembling hand to my mouth, I shut my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks.
He was willing to give me my freedom. Even though I’d never leave because I won’t survive a day without his protection, just the thought that he was willing to give it to me means so much more than he’ll ever know.