Gabriel: Salvation Ghosts MC (Defiant Love Saga Book 1) by Daniela Jackson

Author:Daniela Jackson [Jackson, Daniela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daniela Jackson
Published: 2018-04-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Gabriel

We are seated at a table outside my favourite café. A red and navy umbrella shelters us from the sun’s rays.

“I can buy a house in the suburbs,” I say.

“You want to live in the clubhouse,” Reagan says and stares at the people inside the café—they’re visible through the window.

“It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

“The others want you to live in the clubhouse.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to be happy.”

Yep, our conversations look like this. It’s blurry. It’s like walking in dense deep mud. It takes time to get some information out of her. It makes me love her even more.

I take her wrist and plant a kiss on her knuckles. “We can try in the clubhouse first. If you don’t like it there, we’ll buy a house.”

“I like it there.” Her eyes fix on mine. “You like it there. They like us to be in there.”

So, it’s sorted. The Salvation Ghosts’ clubhouse will be our family home.

I nod as a waitress delivers our order. “Tell me, Reagan, what you did in the forest.”

“I was with others like me first. We swished and hummed. We were. Then you wanted me to be with you, so I fell out of the fog, and I hit the ground. It hurt, Gabriel. It really hurt. I couldn’t move for a long time. I was denser with each year that passed. I was more real with each year that passed. More awake. She didn’t know at first, but when I turned eighteen, she knew.”

“She won’t take you away from me.”

I know it had taken Reagan eighteen years before her corporeal form stabilised enough for me to pull her out of the forest. She must have been scared—all alone—tittering between energy form and bodily form, frozen, half-alive.

“I want to learn new things,” Reagan says.

“What things, darling?”

“Like reading and counting. History and geography. I know the forest, but I want to know the beach, the mountains and the desert as well.”

“I can teach you.”

Between one session of fucking and another. I can fuck her on the beach, in a cabin in the mountains, in a motel by the desert. It can be very educational, in fact.

Reagan beams at me, floats in her own thoughts, and then props her elbows on the table and rests her chin against her palm. “I could be a waitress in your bar. I could clean the clubhouse and cook.”

No fucking way. My wife is gonna paint her nails and spread her legs for me at night. That’s her only duty in life.

“You could look after our garden,” I say.

The garden is the safest place for her. No man will see her there.

“I could plant some trees.” She nods.

“You could.”

A female figure stands by our table. I raise my eyes, meeting Evelyn’s glance.

“I wasn’t sure,” Evelyn says, “but it is you.”

I don’t want her here. Reagan shouldn’t know about her. Ever. It could upset her.

“And this is your daughter?” Evelyn tilts her head towards Reagan.

“My wife,” I say.

Evelyn’s face does not betray any emotions.

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