Disavow (The Dumonts) by Karina Halle

Author:Karina Halle [Halle, Karina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-24T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

PASCAL

Ow. Oh God. My head.

Motherfucking Manuel.

That Spanish bastard should have cut us off when he had the chance. All that extra brandy in the sangria is creating a punishing jackhammer in my head that triples in pain every time I open my eyes.

I should have stuck to whiskey.

But whiskey didn’t feel right last night. I wanted to drink whatever Gabrielle was drinking, and I wanted her to enjoy it. Seeing her enjoy something has given me life.

The moment she stepped off the plane in Palma, it was like seeing the sunrise for the first time. She just lit up from within, and every bit of darkness that hid in her deepest parts was banished away, if only for a few moments.

It caught me off guard a few times, stole the breath from my lungs, made me feel something I’d never felt before. Something for her. It was in her smile, the way she literally let her hair down in the car and let it dance free and messy and wild.

I want to be the man who makes her like that on his own. I want her free and messy and wild in my bed. I want to see that sunrise again, that blinding light, to feel the joy move through her.

Last night, I was sure that was going to happen.

It wasn’t my plan, per se.

Yes, I was trying to woo her. Impress her, at any rate. If we’d ended up having sex, that would have been an added bonus. My main goal was just to get her to open up to me, to let me see the things she deems too dark for me to know. You’d think after all that I’ve told her, every depraved and wicked part of me, she would have felt comfortable enough to finally tell me who she really is and what she really wants.

If what she wants happens to be me, well, I can’t say I’d be disappointed.

That’s kind of what this whole trip is about, if I’m being honest here. I wanted to get her out of that house, away from what’s holding her down and putting that fear in her eyes, the way she’s on edge when she’s in a darkened room, how she’s always tense and looking over her shoulder. I don’t know what it is; maybe it has something to do with her mother, maybe something to do with my father, maybe the letters are freaking her out—I don’t know. But here I was hoping she could let her guard down, if only just an inch.

Speaking of the letters, I roll over, wincing as I do so, and grab my phone. I text my mother to remind her about the mail. I wait for her reply and close my eyes as I lie back down with my head on the pillow. Sun is spilling through the window, which makes my headache worse.

I swear I hear clatter from downstairs.

I really hope it’s Gabrielle, though I have no idea why she’d be up so early.

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