Diavolo Ch. 08

Gabriel banged on her door for about five minutes. She'd locked him out.

"Abigail-god-damn-it," he yelled at the door.

"Give her time to cool down, man," Rafe said behind him.

"Shut-up. This is all your damn fault," Gabriel snapped pounding the door three more times. If it weren't because he had three broken ribs, a busted leg, and a barely healed collarbone he'd have busted the door down by now.

Michael leaned against said doorframe, eyes flashing in irritation. "Would you calm the fuck down, you idiot. All you're doing is making things worse."

Gabriel glared at him, trying to get his ragged, infuriated panting under control. He had a point.

Gabe gripped his crutches with knuckle-whitening intensity as he directed his hostile stare at the door accusingly.

She'd gone to him. Daniel. When she'd texted him back that she was at the Montenegro estate he'd almost sent his phone through the glass doors of the downstairs game room.

Trying to keep a grip on his volatile temper, he immersed himself in music.

At Michael's insistence, they'd worked on the first song he'd written for Abigail. He'd pretty much spilled his pathetic guts in that song. Christ. Mike was right. He had it bad, like never before.

And then she tells him she's at Daniel's house.

Knife straight to the heart, kick to the balls.

He didn't need to look behind him to know the rest of the guys were standing there, witnessing all the drama.

How he hated drama.

Taking a deep breath, "Erica, get me the ring of keys I have by the fridge up in the kitchen."

Dainty footsteps sounded up the stairs.

Michael's quasi-unibrow almost touched across the bridge of his broken nose. "Seriously, Gabe. What are you doing?"

Gabriel gave him a calm face, despite his roiling inner emotions. "I'm gonna talk to my girl."

Behind them, Angelo snorted.

One of Mike's brows rose a bit. "Talk?"

Gabriel pursed his lips. "Yeah, talk."

They stood there staring at each other. Mike didn't believe him, but he'd show them he could handle this. It wasn't going to be like the time...Gabriel frowned, trying to remember a time when he'd been able to remain cool.

Michael's brows rose a bit more.

"Well there's a first time for everything," Gabriel hissed.

Erica skipped over with the keys.

Gabriel found the right one and unlocked the door.

Turning, he glared at the guys. "Privacy, please."

They stayed right where they were; Rafe leaning against the pool table texting his buddies currently sitting around the outdoor lounge area waiting for him to give them the signal things had calmed down inside, Angelo sitting on the pool table even though he knew Gabriel hated that, Erica standing near Mike, who was still leaning against the doorframe with his bulky arms now folded over his chest, dubious expression still irritatingly fixed on his mug.

Gabriel entered her room...and almost stepped in puke.

He wrinkled his nose. "Shit." She'd gotten sick?

Healthy dose of guilt now beating him up from the inside out, he hobbled over to where he heard water running.

Abigail leaned over one of the double sinks, splashing water in her face. She looked pale, eyes closed and breathing open-mouthed.

He did that. To her. The girl who'd made him glad he opened his eyes every morning.

Grabbing a face towel and tossing it over his shoulder he made his way to her.

She finally straightened, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

He offered her the towel. Without turning to face him, she took it, mumbling her thanks and then dried her face.

So many things he needed to say. He didn't know where to start. He was still pissed she'd gone back to the mansion in Laguna Beach. Scared of her reaction in knowing he'd had her living in his beach house with the pretext of being a housekeeper to some secret person. He really didn't want anyone to know his secret hideaway. Just the guys and his grandmother. Now Rafe had brought a bunch of people over via the bay.

Fuck.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he said, needing to know.

She blinked, her teeth nipping her lower lip. Her gaze darted away from his, disconnecting from him.

Not good.

He crowded her, blanketing her back with his body, lips almost brushing her ear. A violent shiver went through her.

"Abigail," he breathed out, the heat of her already making him hard. "I was going out of my mind knowing you were him."

Her eyes snapped open. He slid his gaze back to the mirror to see how wide her pupils were. He affected her too. It wasn't just his blood flowing like lava through his veins right now.

"I already told you. Mikayla called me."

He closed his eyes, turned his nose to sniff at her fragrant hair. How he wished it were unbound so he could bury his face in the golden mass.

"Abigail, I love you."

She made a strangled sound in her throat.

He turned to look at her reflection again. Her eyes were closed, glittering wetness flooding her lashes.

"You lied to me," she got out through clenched teeth.

"About who owned this place?" Her eyes snapped back open, full of hurt, anger, and accusation. "I try to keep that information secret, Abigail. I didn't want anyone to know this place is mine. I was going to tell you. We just hadn't gotten around to talking about it. I was scared you'd leave and go back to Laguna." Just thinking about it made him want to go ape-shit.

She let out a pent up breath, her eyes focusing on the silver faucets in front of her.

"I was going to get a job, a little apartment," her voice sounded small. "I was finally going to stand on my own two feet."

Gabriel frowned, not understanding. He'd given her a place to stay. His home. Their home. And he'd given her money. She didn't need a fucking job.

Her eyes rose to meet him in the mirror again. He didn't really like what he saw in them. "I need to leave, Gabriel."

No. Time to change tactics.

*******

His face fell. "You're going to abandon me? When I need you most?"

The deep tone of his voice, so soft, made goose bumps rise on her arms.

"You're hardly alone, Gabriel."

His lips pressed together, green eyes full of hurt and disappointment. "Mike has his hands full with Erica and her condition. Ariel is a manic depressive, drunk most of the day, asleep the rest. Rafe? I don't want Rafe here with his shit. Who does that leave? My eighty-nine-year-old grandmother? No way am I making her have to tend to me. She's done enough for me. Sharmane takes care of her. Diamond?"

Abigail winced. Oh-God, not that woman!

Gabriel snorted humorlessly, "Yeah-no."

He stared at her through the mirror until he turned away, head down. "Yeah, Abs. I get it. You need to get on with your life. Don't worry about me. I can get through this alone."

He made his way slowly toward the door, his right crutch catching with the throw rug in the middle of the stark white bathroom. After a bit of a wobble, he continued slowly, head down, just tearing her up inside with guilt at the sorry picture he presented. Before she could stop herself, she darted in front of him. Half-shuttered green eyes bore into hers, his face blank, black hair tumbling in loose waves around his face.

Her tongue froze, her eyes drifting down over his naked upper torso. Tattoos decorated his pecs and arms. A tribal sun in sharp black ink circled his belly button, set within the rock hard six-pack of his abdomen. His heat called to her. She felt herself swaying forward, a fuzzy memory of touching and tasting most of that glorious male flesh tantalizing her.

He licked his lips and turned his head away a bit, eyes focused on the white tiled floor.

"I..." she began. "I guess I can stay and care for you until you get better."

His gaze slid back to her, face still adorably pouty. "I'll be fine alone. Mike can sneak by every once and a while. As long as someone leaves some water and crackers nearby, definitely a lamp on. If I need to go take a piss I can always crawl outside and aim for the edge of the dock. Hopefully I won't fall in."

She frowned at him, despite her alarm at his words. "Oh, Gabriel. Stop being so dramatic."

When he refocused on the tile again with a soulful sigh, she couldn't help reach up and stroke back his thick hair. It only spilled forward again over his muscular shoulders.

He needed her. He'd been wrong to trick her into living in his house and fill her bank account with money, but the bottom line was he really needed someone to stay with him. He could hire a full time nurse, but then he'd run the risk of his privacy being invaded. The person might tell someone and before anyone knew, there'd be a horde of fans swarming the house.

"I'll stay, Gabriel."

He looked at her again. "Abigail, are you not still my girlfriend?"

She blinked at him. Somehow, she'd never really thought he'd been serious. He'd said twice now he loved her, but they barely knew each other. Didn't they?

"Are you?" he whispered.

"I...I thought it was just pretend."

He came closer, looming over her. She blinked up at him, eyes wide. The black in his pupils almost swallowed the green of his eyes. 'I'm not pretending."

"Oh," she replied with a gulp. "Okay then."

"I'll forgive you, because you obviously don't know about the girlfriend rules."

"Rules?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, one brow arching beautifully. "Girlfriends are supposed to take care of their man. I'm your man, Abby, and right now I need you."

A shudder went through her at his words. Her man.

Her eyes drifted over the masculine beauty before her. All that? Hers?

Wow. Okay then.

Finding her voice again, she asked, "are there boyfriend rules?"

His grin was pure evil. Gone was the pouty boy. Now she wasn't so sure she wanted to know what the boyfriend rules were.

He dipped his head to brush his lips over hers. Movement to her right had her turning to catch Michael in the room hefting handfuls of what looked like sawdust on where she'd heaved.

Embarrassment had her gasping and rushing out of the bathroom.

"Oh, I can take care of that," she blurted.

"Already got it," Mike mumbled straightening. "Just let that stuff soak it up a few minutes. Then it only needs to be swept up." He looked at Gabriel over her shoulder. "I got rid of all those goons Rafe brought over."

She turned to look at Gabriel who was making his way to the bed. His face looked a little ashen.

"Good thing I didn't get attached to this place," he replied tightly.

Micheal cocked his head to the side, eyes on Gabe. "Already had the talk with him. Let's just wait and see what happens."

Gabriel shook his head. Michael just sighed. Abigail wondered what they were talking about. It almost sounded as if Gabriel was considering getting rid of the beach house.

"Shit," Michael huffed. "With the practice and drama, I forgot about your meds."

Abigail's eyes widened as she saw Gabriel settle gingerly on her mattress before leaning sideways to lie down.

He was in pain.

"I'll live," he replied, but Mike had already walked out.

It was already nighttime. "Have you had dinner?"

He rolled onto his back. She saw him wince, but he remained silent and just shook his head side to side.

Michael came trotting back into the room, bottle of pills in his hand and glass of water.

Abigail turned and made her way out. Erica followed her up the stairs.

"Everything okay between you two?"

Abigail smiled at her over her shoulder. "Yeah. We talked a bit." They needed to talk more though. "He hasn't eaten. I'm going to make something for all of us."

"Ooh, can I help?"

Abigail grimaced but nodded her head, turning toward the kitchen. "Suuure."

*******

Angelo and Michael helped him back up to the main floor. His bedroom had been unlocked and Abigail had the pleasure of finally seeing it. It was no wonder why he'd had it locked. His scent was everywhere even though, according to Mike, he'd barely ever stayed there. The huge walk-in closet had a few clothes, but there were pictures of his grandmother and another of a very beautiful blonde woman holding a baby, a little boy with humongous green eyes and raven curls. Gabriel as a one-year old and his mother was too precious for words.

She'd prepared some tenderloin steaks and lobster tails, and had Mike cook them out on the grill. Potatoes were in the oven as she prepared asparagus stalks in a huge skillet. Erica set the table to Abigail's surprise with Gabriel's white square plates and silverware. In the living room Angelo and Ariel played with the Xbox, shouting insults at one another over some game until the scents of food drew them to the kitchen like hungry children.

"God, I hate Gabriel so much right now," Angelo suddenly exclaimed looking over Abigail's shoulder.

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Why? What did he do?" Looking back out into the living room, Gabriel laid sleeping on his inflatable mattress again. It was a shame there wasn't a bedroom on the main floor.

"I saw you first, damn-it. You're gorgeous and you can cook more than Chef Boyardee."

Abigail rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Please go back to the living room and let me finish this."

About an hour later, they all congregated at the outside dining table. Michael had lit the fire pit and turned up the fairy lights on the deck. The warm breeze brought with it the scent of the ocean and the sounds of the sea. Millions of star winked from a velvet black sky the moon, a sliver of white low in the sky reflected off the shimmering water. The bay was breathtaking, surrounded by the twinkling lights of the glamorous houses around it and fancy crafts of all sizes in its waters.

Gabriel still had a sleepy face when she put his plate before him.

He rubbed his eyes and frowned. "Who ordered take out? Smells fucking good."

Mike smiled at him. "No take-out, man. Abs made it."

Gabriel looked at his plate again. "Jesus-christ, woman."

Abigail bit her lips, wondering if there was something wrong.

Everyone ate almost in silence for a few minutes, nothing but the sounds of appreciation with every bite.

Gabriel watched her with every bite he took, his serious stare making her nervous. What was going through his head? At one point he reached over and took her hand, pressing a lingering kiss over her knuckles, eyes so intense, she felt herself blush from head to toe.

Everyone conversed, tales of the outrageous things that happened to them on their tours or at shows had Abigail gasping in shock or laughing until her sides hurt. One their first shows before a big crowd had ended up rather abruptly when the entire stage had collapsed. Another time some woman kept accusing Gabriel of being Bret Michaels incognito.

"Fucks-sake," Gabriel groused. "I look nothing like the dude. I've got green eyes and black hair. Real hair-mind you."

Abigail smiled looking around the table. "Who's Bret Michaels?"

Angelo's white wine sprayed from his mouth as he choked. Ariel snickered and Michael shook his head in dismay. Gabriel just stared at her in concern.

"He's the guy from Poison," Erica giggled. "Total eye-candy when he was younger, not too bad now either actually."

"Poison?"

"You know," Ang began, wiping his laughing mouth off with a napkin, "Now that I look at you, Gabe, I kind-a see it."

Gabriel scowled at the drummer. "Eat me."

"Look! You see?" Ang exclaimed, jabbing a finger in Gabriel's direction. "It's those hooker lips of yours, and those big fuck-me eyes. You're a dead ringer for him. All you need is the blond hair and eyeliner, man."

Even Ariel laughed, which was probably the first time she'd seen him show his teeth. Gabriel looked down shaking his head, but he chuckled too and then he yawned. The medication made him drowsy.

Erica shoved her cell phone under Abigail's nose.

"Bret Michaels."

Abigail blinked as she took the proffered phone from the girl despite Gabriel's protest. She looked at the video of the handsome blond man and smirked.

"Well, maybe the nose and the mouth."

Roaring laughter sounded around her. Gabriel just rubbed his face with his hands in defeat.

"Seriously, Abigail? You too?"

She giggled. No. Gabriel was way better looking than the pretty blond man in the video singing about roses and their thorns. For one, Gabe gave off a pure masculine vibe that made her toes curl. So-what if his lips were what Angelo accused them to be. They were surrounded by manly scruff at the moment.

He gave her a slow blink, looking like he was ready to nod off at any minute.

Michael stretched ad stood. "Rafe, help me clean up. Ang and Ariel, help Sleeping beauty here to the bath. It's getting late."

Angelo scoffed. "What? I am not helping a man bathe. What-the-hell!"

Ariel just shook his head sipping at his beer.

Gabriel looked at Abigail.

Her eyes widened. Who would bathe Gabriel when Michael couldn't come over?

"I can make it into the bathroom, but I definitely need someone to give me a hand in there."

"He could slip and kill himself," Michael added without a hint of a smile.

Abigail cupped her throat in horror.

"Think of me as your patient," Gabriel added slowly getting to his feet as Rafe handed him his crutches.

Every eye was on her.

Well, he was her boyfriend, and he was hurt enough to need assistance and who better than she?

"Okay," she said, her voice a horse whisper.

She left the guys from the band cleaning up as she followed Gabriel into the bathroom on the main floor behind the kitchen.

It was not as big as her bathroom downstairs, but roomy enough for both of them to fit without bumping into each other.

Gabriel still had no shirt on, just a pair of black drawstring pants. When he leaned against the sink, Abigail turned and began fixing the water.

"How do you like the temperature?"

"However you like it," he purred.

She ignored the sexy growl and shoved her trembling hand beneath the warm spray of water. This bathroom was tiled in natural stone and had a walk-in bathing area. Niches were tucked in the corners stocked with soaps, sponges, towels, and bottles of products of every kind. There was also a sturdy metal and plastic chair she guessed Gabriel used when he showered in there.

"Well, I made it warm, but not too much. It's a cool night..."

Her words died on her tongue when she turned.

He was in the process of stepping out of his pants. He wore noting else underneath. Her jaw dropped, her eyes gaped, her face grew hot as well as every other part of her.

Sweet-baby-Jesus, the man had the body of a pagan god, mile long legs, exquisitely muscled, and dusted in a layer of fine dark hair that matched the treasure trail leading from halfway down his tight belly to the nest surrounding his half erect cock...his half erect monstrous cock. Good-lord, it was another limb practically. As she stared at it, it grew longer and thicker.

"This is going to get really embarrassing if you keep looking at me like that, baby."

She wrenched her eyes from his groin to his face, and then closed her mouth to keep from making the famous fish-face that turned him on so much. Why? She had no idea.

"You're naked," she blurted.

"Well, I am about to shower."

"You could've worn underwear at least," she continued to protest, doing her best to keep her eyes on his face. It didn't matter though. Her eyes were focused on his face, but she could still see that serpentine beast pressed against his abs. It was like another person in the room.

He wrinkled his nose. "Well, how the hell am I supposed to wash my jewels wearing underwear? Come-on, Abs. We're both adults here. Seriously?"

Her face felt like it was on fire, and why not? She'd just seen her first completely naked man...and he was...there were no words.

"Baby, the shower's running."

"Yes! Oh-my-god, yes! Sorry."

He chuckled darkly. "My little Poptart."