His Kind of Love by Kate Hawthorne

Author:Kate Hawthorne [Hawthorne, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Gabriel Entertains the Smiths

Gabriel was happier than he should have been, faced as he was with the prospect of Joel continuing to stay with him. He was all too aware that every day that went by without being honest with Joel was also one day closer to the inevitable end. The relationship developing between them was delicate and tentative. If the truth of Gabriel's omissions were to come out without his own orchestration, it would be catastrophic.

There were a lot of things Joel needed to know. First and foremost, that his stepfather was Gabriel's brother. Gabriel was hopeful he could justify his dedication to pursuing Joel from the sidelines–that he could explain away the puppeteering. He didn’t think, though, that he could wipe away their familial relations as easily.

He ran the conversation through his head at least three times a day.

“Remember how I told you my younger brother outed me to our father, and I got thrown out? Well, your stepdad is my younger brother.”

“Joel, I need to tell you something. I tried to reconcile with my younger brother a few years ago. But I got there and saw him yelling at you, so I decided to keep tabs on you to make sure you were safe instead of approaching my asshole brother to call him out on his behavior.”

“Would it be a problem if I was your uncle?”

Fuck.

Gabriel dropped his head against his desk, banging it repeatedly. The motion was so aggressive, it jostled one of his drawers loose. Rotating his neck so his cheek was lying across the smooth wood, he pulled the drawer open, reaching inside for the stack of mail he kept there. He dropped it unceremoniously in front of his face, closing his eyes in an attempt to avoid the physical proof of his deception.

The stack of mail was festive in its coloring. Lots of red, gold, and green envelopes, and a handful in burgundy and silver, all addressed to Gabriel Russell. Gabriel reached over to the string that tied the bundle together, loosening the knot and sending a pile of Christmas cards and letters sliding against his nose. Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes, grabbed a handful of cards, and sat back in his chair.

The one on top was the last one he received. One of those picture Christmas cards, from four Christmases prior, postmarked Whittier, CA. He took a steadying breath, reaching out a finger to trace it over the thumbnail of Joel's face, before flicking it against the smiling face of his asshole of a little brother and his conniving wife. He flipped the card over to see Madeline’s flourished and elegant cursive.

“He’s your fucking nephew, and the least you can do is help your FAMILY out, Gabriel. We need money and you have money. Why won’t you help? Thomas was right, all these years, when he told me what a selfish piece of shit you are.”

Based off the address, Madeline had made the assumption that Gabriel and Thomas had the same last name, which demonstrated how little Thomas actually talked about him.

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