Fallen (Seven Deadly Sins #2)(47)
Author: Erin McCarthy

PROSECUTOR: Have you ever acted as coroner in a prior murder case where a bowie knife was used?

DR. RAPHAEL: No. I have only taken the position six months past.

PROSECUTOR: Is it true, Dr. Raphael, that you are a prior acquaintance of the defendant?

DR. RAPHAEL: Yes. I had met the defendant on several occasions, always in a large social setting.

PROSECUTOR: Were you friends?

DR. RAPHAEL: I wouldn’t say that, no. We barely exchanged a dozen words.

PROSECUTOR: Yet you were seen dining alone in the company of the defendant twice last year by at least seven witnesses. No further questions.

Gabriel had kissed her and pulled back immediately. Then fed her Chinese food. What did that mean? She had no idea, and she wasn’t in the mood to guess.

There was no energy left for prevaricating. She had used it up on grief, sleep deprivation, and fear. So as they ate, she swallowed a noodle, then just said, “You didn’t have to stop, you know.”

“Stop what?” he asked, but she could tell he knew what she was referring to, because he got a wary look in his eyes.

“Kissing me. I was enjoying it.” Immensely. And she wanted to enjoy it again, all over her body. She wanted him to take her to his bed, peel off her clothes and kiss her between her thighs, stroking his tongue over her until she came, then push his hard body inside hers. The idea thrilled, just from thinking about it, and she found that intriguing. It wasn’t like her to respond so sexually to a man, and while she didn’t entirely understand it, she was too aroused to even consider waiting to decipher what it meant. She just wanted him, wanted to feel alive, whole again.

“I know. I was too.” He fiddled with his chopsticks.

It amazed her that he could actually use the utensils. She always wound up flinging chicken chunks onto the carpet when she tried to use them.

“But?”

“But . . . Sara, I can’t. I’m not capable of giving you what you need.” He shot her a beseeching look.

She wasn’t having any of that, because she wasn’t asking for anything. “Why, are you impotent?”

Gabriel let out a startled laugh. “No.” He gave a small smile. “I’m pretty certain of that.”

“Then we don’t have a problem, because I’m not looking for promises or forever or anything other than sex. We’re attracted to each other, so what’s the big deal?” Even as she spoke, she knew she was simplifying things, but she suddenly felt there was a really important reason she needed to win the argument. That she needed to have sex, with Gabriel. That she needed to know.

“It’s not that easy. When is sex ever really just sex? Emotion always creeps in.” He dropped down his chopsticks onto his plate. “I have all this guilt over my girlfriend, and sex, it’s like the ultimate letdown of all your guards, you know? I think it’s dangerous for me to lose control.”

“Why? Because if you lose control, you might have to admit that it’s okay to live, to have a good time, without your girlfriend?”

He looked defiantly at her. “Yes. You should recognize me in yourself.”

That was why she understood him so well. That was why she was certain they were both damaging themselves further by letting the guilt eat at them. “So if I push it, and you eventually give in, I’m the bad guy, aren’t I?”

He shook his head. “No. I won’t give in. And eventually we’ll both lose interest.”

“Oh, really?” She had to admit, that infuriated her. “You have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded with confidence.

“Then why the hell did you kiss me?” She wasn’t sure whether she regretted it or not. It had been a fabulous kiss, and she had been curious what it would be like, but on the other hand, now she knew their chemistry was real, yet he was telling her they couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Because I’m an idiot.”

Which was the male answer to everything. They seemed to think if they just admitted their stupidity, somehow it exempted them from responsibility for it.

“I can’t really argue with that.” It was snarky of her, but she didn’t want to play those games. Not with him. Not now.

He just smiled. “You shouldn’t.”

Sara stabbed a carrot, still feeling irritated. “You didn’t find out who sent those pictures, did you?”

“No. But I think we should inform the police, both here and in Naples.”

That was the last thing she felt like doing. “They’ll just make me fill out a bunch of paperwork, then they’ll never do anything with it.”

“You’re not just some random person showing up with gruesome pictures. This might have some bearing on their investigation.”

“What investigation? They think they found their man. They’re done, and whether he was convicted or not, as far as they’re concerned the case is closed.” Sara had tried to tell herself she wasn’t bitter about that, but hell, she sounded bitter. She was.

Gabriel didn’t call her on it. He just said, “It’s up to you. We can say something or we don’t have to.”

“I don’t want to. Not right now. Maybe later.” And what would change later to make her suddenly take the pictures to the police, she didn’t know, but she was having trouble being definitive. Changing the subject before he could reply, she said, “What do you think of that whole absinthism argument? Do you think that was a real syndrome? And could it have debilitated John Thiroux to the point where he wouldn’t have been able to use that bowie knife on Anne?”

Gabriel said, “I think absinthism was just a term given to alcohol addiction. I’m sure drinking excessively would result in blackouts with absinthe, like any other form of alcohol. As for hallucinations and delirium? I doubt they were true hallucinations. I think alone, absinthe acts mostly like a heightened alcohol drunk.”

Sara was sitting next to Gabriel on his couch, the food on the coffee table in front of them. Angel was perched on the window ledge, looking out at the courtyard. It was weird to her how comfortable she felt with him, in his apartment, in his life. Now that she knew about his girlfriend, saw clearly how he punished himself for her death, she knew it was a major concession for him to allow her in his space. And she wanted to help him move forward as much as she wanted that for herself. “I wish I knew exactly what that kind of drunk felt like. Can you still buy absinthe?”