Chapter 7

7

Something was pressed against his thigh.

André came awake slowly, taking a deep breath. His back ached, and his neck too. He blinked his eyes open, lifting both arms to stretch. Then he glanced down his body and froze.

He was still in Gideon Winters's insane home theater. On the couch. And Gideon was asleep next to him. His head on André's thigh.

What the?—

He cast about, looking for Jules, who'd been with them before he fell asleep, but didn't see her. He didn't see any of Gideon's people either. And here André was, thinking Gideon didn't do anything or go anywhere without his armed guards.

But that didn't matter because Gideon Winters was fucking sleeping on him. Head turned to face the back of the couch, features serene—something André didn't think he'd ever see on the other man. His dark blond hair was rumpled. But he looked like he was sleeping deeply and André didn't want to wake him. But how was he supposed to get away from this position? God knew he didn't want Gideon to open his eyes and find them like that.

André's belly cramped at the mere thought.

It was bad enough he'd been forced to stay in the man's house; he wanted as little to do with Gideon as possible. He'd tried to talk Jules out of inviting Gideon to join them for the movie last night, but his sister was just as stubborn as he was, if not more. She'd taken a liking to Gideon, and André couldn't talk her out of it.

He just wanted to get the hell out of there already.

He wanted to know when they'd be able to go home, but more than that, he needed Jules to be safe, and unfortunately, Gideon was right. This fortress of his was the safest at the moment.

André didn't have to like it though.

He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared down at a sleeping Gideon, trying to figure out how they even ended up in this position in the first place. And how was he supposed to get out of it without waking Gideon? Because the other man appeared to need his rest. In the very short time André had been there, he'd already seen that Gideon was always on the go.

Like a man on a mission.

Did that mission involve André's father and whatever plans Gideon had for him? Plans that included André?

André needed to know about that, and he would question Gideon. But first things first, he had to get out of there.

He angled his hips, holding his breath as he tried inching out from under Gideon's body.

But Gideon's head jerked up, his gaze zeroing in on André, eyes alert as if he hadn't just been dead asleep. If he was surprised at their position, he didn't show it, nor did he move.

"André."

Well. It should be illegal for somebody to sound like that. His voice was sleep-hoarse, rough. Husky. Probably the sexiest thing André had ever heard. Not that he had much experience.

He swallowed. "Gideon."

"Good morning." When André didn't respond, Gideon's lips quirked. "Is it not a good morning?"

"You're on top of me." André pointed it out as if the other man didn't know. He wanted to close his eyes at his stupidity but managed somehow to maintain eye contact with Gideon.

He looked as if he was always on, this guy. The only thing out of place on him, as far as André could see, was his hair that was sticking up a bit. André's fingers twitched at the urge to smooth it down.

The fuck was wrong with him?

"I must've fallen asleep while watching the movie last night," Gideon murmured. "Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Well, you're up now, so if you could just…" André made a shooing motion with his hands and Gideon's eyes mocked him.

Something about his face, about how close he was to that part of André—his morning wood—had him on high alert, had his heart beating, and his groin… Don't think about it . But he couldn't ignore the heat of Gideon's body, warming him through their clothes.

"Is this uncomfortable for you?" Gideon lifted an eyebrow, the smirk on his face telling André he already knew the answer to that question.

"It's too early for me to be dealing with you and your bullshit." André scrubbed a hand over his face. "Don't you have something much more important to do than to be here, fucking with me?"

Something dark smoldered in Gideon's eyes. "No."

André's pulse sped up. What?—

"Dré, you're up!" Juliette wheeled into the room. "Come to breakfast. The chef made pancakes." Why was she so excited about pancakes? "Gideon, will you have breakfast with us?"

Okay, he would have to talk to Jules about the crush she had on Gideon. It couldn't continue. Gideon sat up, taking his weight off André—finally, and no, he didn't miss it—smiling at Jules.

"Good morning, Miss Juliette. You're looking well rested."

André rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile when his sister blushed and ducked her head.

"Will you have breakfast with us?" Jules asked again.

"Jules, I'm sure Gideon has way more important things to do than waste time with us."

Jules's face fell.

Gideon got to his feet, lifting both arms over his head. André took in the flex of his muscles, then abruptly looked away, heat washing over his face.

"I do have some things to do." Gideon turned that charm on Jules again. "But I would like nothing more than to join you for breakfast." He glanced at André and must have seen the promise of murder in his eyes because Gideon threw him a wink, then walked off. "I'll see you both at breakfast."

Fuck. Him.

If André thought for a minute he'd get away with punching Gideon in the face, he just might. He knew what Gideon was doing, getting close to Jules. Using her as leverage against André. Because he'd already sussed out that Jules was the only person in the world André cared about.

He'd do anything for her, even share pancakes with Gideon fucking Winters.

He forced a smile for Jules when she beamed at him, getting to his feet and pulling her into a hug, kissing her temple. Together, they left the movie theater and Jules made her way to the kitchen—she already knew the layout of the entire goddamn place—and he went to his room to brush his teeth and change clothes. The day before, he'd placed a call to the school where he worked as a substitute teacher—also the same school Jules attended—telling them he had a family emergency and that he and Jules would be out of town indefinitely.

By the time he made his way down to the kitchen, he was frustrated at himself and angry at Gideon. Still, he took a deep breath and entered the room. Jules and Gideon—who'd also changed his clothes—sat at a table while some other folks bustled about the kitchen. This place felt way homier than the fancy dining room Gideon had next door. A room that was damn near as large as André and Jules's entire home. But the kitchen was cozier, still fucking gorgeous like the rest of the place, but it didn't have that museum, don't touch nothing air.

Juliette waved at him and he joined them, pointedly ignoring Gideon.

An older woman appeared, pouring coffee into a cup at André's elbow. He smiled his thanks.

"Dré, that's Phyllis," Jules told him. "And the man making our pancakes is Chef Chris. Sonia is his assistant. Everyone, this is my big brother, André."

He nodded a greeting. How Jules came to know all of them, he didn't know and didn't bother asking. But clearly, she'd made herself at home. When she wasn't looking, he glanced at Gideon and found his eyes on him. André narrowed his gaze, hoping the other man saw and understood his displeasure.

He must have, but all Gideon did was smirk in that way of his that made André want to punch him.

Or kiss him.

No, not that.

He kept his mouth shut and looked away, focusing on anything else but Gideon, sending up a prayer of gratitude when heaps of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fruit were piled onto the table. He focused on eating while Jules asked Gideon a whole bunch of questions that he answered quite patiently. Grudgingly, André admitted to himself that he appreciated the fact that Gideon didn't treat Jules any differently because of the wheelchair.

"Right, Dré?"

He blinked, chewing on crunchy bacon as he looked up to find both sets of eyes on him. "Hmm?"

"Gideon said we could take a ride in his helicopter. That would be fun, right?"

"Oh no." He shook his head. "I don't think that's?—"

"Gideon!" A woman entered the room with tears streaming down her face, two of Gideon's people following closely on her heels.

"Ree." Gideon shot to his feet and went to her. She barreled into his arms, almost knocking him back a step. "What's wrong?"

"He's died," she sobbed into Gideon's chest. "My father is dead."

Gideon met Samir's eyes over the top of Ree's head. Warren Choi was always meant to die, but he hadn't anticipated Ree coming to him for comfort.

Still, the fact that he'd been the one to kill her father wasn't the thing that had Gideon's arms wrapped loosely around Ree's shaking shoulders as she sobbed into his chest, wetting his shirt.

He felt eyes on him, André's eyes, and for some unknown and unwelcome reason, Gideon didn't want his house guest witnessing what was happening.

He brushed a kiss to the top of Ree's head, murmuring, "I'm so sorry," before he took a step back. He wasn't sorry Warren was dead. Again, he deserved that shit. But despite the relationship between Ree and her father, she'd loved him, and Gideon knew all too fucking well the pain of losing a parent.

So, he was sorry for that pain. The pain he'd had no choice but to inflict on Ree.

He cast a glance over to where André and his sister sat at the table, their breakfast forgotten as they watched everything unfold.

He met André's eyes for the briefest moment and did not like what he saw there. "Ree, these are my guests, André and his sister, Juliette. This is Ree."

Jules waved at Ree, who was frantically wiping her face, while André gave her a small nod before lowering his gaze to his plate.

"Come with me." Gideon turned his attention back to Ree, taking her hand and leading her out of the room. He brought her to his office, just the two of them, and she collapsed against his chest.

"Ree."

"How could this happen?" The tears had stopped flowing and anger pushed past the grief in her voice. "I don't even know what happened. All they'll tell me is that he died."

"I'm sorry."

"No." She shook her head, pushing away from him. Red-rimmed eyes met his as she squared her shoulders. "Just days after I accept my father's prison call for the first time and deliver a coded message to you, he's dead." She held his gaze. "Why is that, Gideon?"

He had to fight to keep his lips from twitching at the fire in her. "Ree, if you have something you need to ask, just spit it out."

"Did you kill my father?"

"Yes."

Her eyes bulged, color draining from her face. She hadn't expected that response, even though she'd been suspicious enough to ask the question. Gideon smiled at her gently. "There are things happening that are beyond your understanding. I won't apologize for what needed to be done."

Her mouth opened and closed rapidly, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Guess she hadn't truly been prepared for the truth.

"I helped you kill my father?" She touched a trembling hand to her chest, clutching her t-shirt in her fist. "Why-why— I helped you. How?—"

He cut her off as her voice rose. "There's nothing for you to feel guilty about, Ree. Warren was a scumbag and a traitor."

"He was my father!" She exploded on him, fists beating at his chest. " My father! And you used me to murder him?" Her voice broke and her legs buckled.

Gideon wrapped his arms around her to keep her from crashing to the floor on her knees, but she yanked away from him, putting distance between them, facing him with a hand on her heaving chest, lips trembling.

"You're a monster."

Gideon cocked his head.

"I thought you were different, but?—"

"Why would you think that, Ree?" He lifted an eyebrow. "You only knew the boy I once was, not the man I am now. Why would you think I'd be different? Different compared to what?"

She didn't answer, but if her wet, flashing eyes were weapons, he'd already be on the floor bleeding out. Gideon didn't care. He couldn't. He hadn't crawled his way back from the shadows to be liked. He stood where he was now because he was on a mission to regain his identity and all that was stolen from him by any means necessary .

Collateral damage was a given.

"You're a monster." The repeated words trembled from her lips, low and tortured as a knock came on the office door.

Gideon closed the distance between them, swiping her wet cheek with the pad of a finger. "I am, but so was your father. So dry your tears, he never did deserve that shit." He glanced up as the door opened and Samir and Kaleb walked in. "Kaleb is gonna take you?—"

"So I can be killed as well?" she spat. "I'm not going anywhere with any of your people."

"Ree." Gideon brushed a thumb across her jaw, smiling at the hatred sparkling in her eyes. She made him feel nostalgic. "If I wanted you dead, your sister would already be planning your funeral. Now please, you don't have a choice. Go with Kaleb." He stared into her eyes, watching the reality and gravity of her situation fully sink in. He saw, too, the moment she surrendered. Satisfied, Gideon nodded to Kaleb, who escorted a visibly defeated Ree out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, Samir spoke.

"Ennis Canto called a meeting."

Gideon turned to him. "Called a meeting with who?" Couldn't be with Gideon. The other members of The Council knew better than to summon him.

"Prislaya Chopra."

Ah, The Council's very own sadist. "When and where?" Before he'd even stepped out of the shadows, before his father took his last breath, they'd positioned spies in the organizations of all members of The Council. One of the best strategic moves they'd ever made, in Gideon's opinion.

"Tonight. Washington."

"Hmm." Gideon walked over to the bar at the other end of the office and poured himself a shot of whisky, tossing it back before pouring another. This one he nursed, staring into the swirling liquid as if it were tea leaves he could read. "What do you think they'll be discussing?"

Samir chuckled, coming to stand next to him as they stared out the large window overlooking the city together. "Your demise if I had to guess."

His demise. "To my demise." Gideon held up the glass, toasting before tossing it back. "Get the jet ready, we've got a meeting to crash."

An hour later, as he exited his office on the way up to the helipad—he'd be taking the helicopter to the airfield where his private jet was fueled and waiting for him—Juliette approached him.

"Gideon!"

"Miss Juliette." Something about her always made him smile. Her eyes were always so wide and full of joy. There was nothing hidden about her—everything showed on her face. Right now she was happy to see him. He hadn't seen her or her brother since breakfast but he already knew André was never happy to see him.

"I was wondering if you— Are you leaving?"

She sounded disappointed. "I am, yes. I have an out-of-town meeting I can't miss."

"Oh." She lowered her gaze, shoulders slumping.

"Hey." He lifted her chin with two fingers. "What's up?"

"I thought we could watch a movie again," she said in a rush. "Last night you and Dré fell asleep, so we didn't get to watch the movie so I thought we could have a do-over with snacks and stuff?" Her voice went up an octave at the end. "Also, can I maybe invite my girlfriend over? I miss her, but also she's kinda jealous that I get to stay with you." She blushed when she said that part, and Gideon couldn't help the chuckle.

"You can tell your girlfriend she has nothing to worry about." He winked at her just as André appeared out of nowhere to stand behind his sister and glower at Gideon. "We can have a redo on the movie, but I don't know when I'll be back, so maybe in a day or so?" He took a deep breath, holding André's gaze. "Unfortunately, I'll have to say no visitors for now, but we can revisit that at a later date," he said quickly when Juliette's expression fell. "How's that?"

She nodded, clearly disappointed. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Miss Juliette." He got a small smile from her as she wheeled herself away. Her brother didn't move though. He waited until his sister was out of sight before speaking.

"Why can't she have her friend over? Are we hostages?"

Something about him antagonized Gideon, always putting him on the defensive. "Do you think you're a hostage, André?"

"If we can't leave and people can't visit us? Yes."

"Hmm." Gideon moved closer to him. It was like he couldn't help it. He was being pulled closer by the anger and distrust in André's eyes. "There are people out there who clearly want to hurt you and your sister," he murmured when he got close enough to smell André's subtle cologne. To feel the heat emanating from his skin. "You want to lead them straight here?"

André's lips parted, but he didn't speak for a few moments, as if he were rethinking what to say. Gideon found himself staring at those lips, his entire body tense as he waited for them to move. Wondering about their taste and texture. His belly tightened. So did the area much lower.

Fuck.

"What do you know about who's after us?" André asked finally.

Gideon's gaze jumped to the other man's only to find André focused on his mouth. Well, shit. It took a while for Gideon to make his throat work. "I'm on my way to find out now." He turned away, suddenly breathless. "Don't wait up."

"Wait."

And he did. With his back to André, he waited.

"The girl, your…friend from earlier."

The significant pause before André finished his question made Gideon turn back to him. "Her name is Ree. A childhood friend." Although, why he was explaining anything, he couldn't really say.

"Right." Didn't sound as if André appreciated or believed the explanation. "Is she okay?"

"Her father died."

"Shit. I-I'm sorry."

Gideon shrugged as he turned around. "Don't be. I killed him." He didn't stick around to see André's reaction.