L.L. Foster - The Acceptance

“What else?”

She withdrew. He saw it, felt it.

“Look, the important part of all this is that when you’re around, I don’t feel the pain as sharply as I should. Your presence somehow . . . weakens it.”

Honesty seemed his only recourse. “I’m glad.” Anything that made her more . . . normal, suited him just fine.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Petulant in her need for him to understand, she leaned closer again. “The pain is what helps me to focus. It’s what guides me.”

“Into burning buildings and playgrounds ready to explode.”

“Yes. Without it, I can’t . . .”

“Can’t what? Play hero?”

Her fist struck the table. “Damn you, I am not playing!”

Mired in conflicting reactions, Luther said nothing.

Gaby didn’t like that. Her lip curled. “What are you thinking now, or do I even need to ask?”

“You won’t run away from me?”

Her back stiffened, and she braced herself. For more hurt? It’s what she always expected.

“I don’t run from anyone.”

True enough. She didn’t even run from a bomb. “I figure you’re either certifiably nuts . . .” Needing the touch of her warmth, the assurance she was real, Luther reached for her hand. “. . . or you’re a truly gifted phenomenon.”

She pried her hand free with disgust. “More like a cursed delegate, but hey, whatever. Are we done here?”

“No.” Musing over her choice of words brought Luther to a new consideration. “How long have you had this . . . affliction?”

“Since birth, far as I know.”

Which could explain a lot of her background. “That’s why it was so difficult for you to fit into the foster homes?”

“Part of the reason, yeah. But I’m a natural loner, anyway. Cute little family circles have never much appealed to me.”

He didn’t believe that for a minute.

In the oddest ways, Gaby created a family unit everywhere she went. First with Mort, and now with a pack of lonely, desperate hookers.

Trying to be subtle, Luther moved her plate closer to her. She took the hint and started eating again.

While she dug into her food, he mused aloud. “At Mort’s, with me standing right behind you, you sensed the fire, and that someone was trapped.”

“Yeah.” She thought about that. “I probably would have known sooner without you there.”

Humoring her wouldn’t hurt anything. For now. “But you still knew. So my presence doesn’t completely obliterate whatever . . . aptitude you have.”

“No, not completely.” She shook her head. “But I can’t take that chance. I need to know that Bliss is safe.”

“And you can’t trust me on that?”

“What do you have to do with it?”

The insult hit home, but taking Gaby’s unique lack of social skills into account, he tamped down on his annoyance. “I have officers keeping watch over her, and Ann is there more often than not. She knows what she’s doing.”

“Maybe.” After finishing off her burger, Gaby started on her fries. “But when it comes down to it, I trust me more than the two of you put together.”

Damn it. A man could only take so many insulting barbs before losing his temper. “All right, Einstein. Since you’ve got this all figured out, what do we do next? How do we catch the psychopath?”

“I have a plan.”

Luther’s blood ran cold. “What plan?”

“Can’t tell you, cop, sorry.” She waved a French fry at him. “Even with all this soul-baring, I figure it’d be a bad idea to include you. For sure you’d have a conniption, and the truth is, I’m not going to change my mind about it, so . . .” She held up both hands. “Why hassle over it?”

Putting both elbows on the table, Luther closed the space between them. Voice low, he issued a warning. “You will tell me your plans, Gabrielle Cody, right now, or so help me I’ll—”

“What? Arrest me?” Unconcerned, she chomped down another fry.

“Damn right. If that’s what it takes to know you’re safe, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Now that Luther had lost his cool, her appetite had returned with a vengeance.

“Fine. Go ahead. It’ll fuck me over real good, but if you’re such a control freak that you don’t mind doing that to me, then I guess I’ll know where I really stand with you— once and for all.”

Damn her, she’d turned the tables on him. “How will it fuck you over?”

“Oh, come on, Luther. You know I’m wallowing in anonymity. The very last thing I need is to be in the system.”

One of his worst suspicions, laid on the table. “Are you wanted by the law?”

“Not yet, no.” Luther started to relax, when she added, “No one knows who I am, so how could anyone pin anything on me?”

God Almighty, she made him insane. “Are you saying that you—”

“I’m saying if you get me fingerprinted, I’ll skip out of here the second I can. New name, new identity, the whole shebang. It’s the truth I’d miss you something awful, but . . .” Gaby shrugged. “I guess that’s the price I’d have to pay.”

She’d miss him? Somehow he had his doubts. “Would you?”

“Disappear? In a heartbeat.”

He shook his head. “No, I meant would you really miss me?”

“Ah, what is it, cop? You need a little stroke to the old ego?” Plate now clean, Gaby shoved it away and mirrored his position with her elbows on the table. “Okay, if you want the truth—”

“Always.”

“Fine. I think about you every five minutes.” Her gaze went to his mouth; her voice lowered. “Sometimes I dream about you, too. And after what you did with your fingers . . .” Her eyes closed on a sigh. “Yeah, I’d miss you.”

Before Luther could relish that admission, she added, “But that wouldn’t stop me from disappearing if you forced me to.”

Because he knew Gaby, he believed her. To buy himself time to think, Luther asked her, “Dessert?”

“No thanks.” The offer made her shudder. “I ate the meal for you, but I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

She’d eaten for him? Giving up, Luther signaled the waiter for the check. Eventually, he’d accustom Gaby to some of life’s little pleasures. For now, he could accommodate her idiosyncrasies.

As he tossed several bills onto the table, Gaby raised a brow in question.

“When I dine out,” Luther told her, “I always leave a nice tip. I believe in good karma. You know, what goes around comes around. An angel’s smile, and all that.”

“No such thing, Luther. Bad stuff happens to good people all the time. It’s the way of things. But if it gives you a false sense of security, go ahead, suit yourself.”

People did indeed look at her when she stood, but Luther thought it was more Gaby’s striking attitude than how she dressed or acted. Her confidence, her capability was a live thing, and it touched everyone within her realm.

It was one of the things he’d first noticed about her.

After casting a black look on one particularly nosy woman, Gaby strode beside him with her chin in the air and her manner more abrasive than usual. But then, that was Gaby, always on the defense, always combative.

Curious about her take on heavenly intervention, Luther said, “You don’t believe in angels?” Her faith in God was more intrinsic and personal than anyone he knew. At times, she spoke of Him as if they were cohorts.

Under the bright sunlight, Gaby slipped on sunglasses. “Course I do. Angels are always among us.”

“They are?”

Her long-legged walk nearly left him behind. “Sure. Just as evil lurks, so does good. But I prefer to rely on my own ability.” She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. “It’d be nice if you’d have a little faith in my ability, too.”