Page 9 of Forbidden Sins

“What’s happened to you? You’re Ellie Carrington. You’re fucking fearless. You stared down the paparazzi, tabloid reporters, anyone who crossed you. You don’t run away.”

“Maybe I don’t feel much like that Ellie anymore. What do you think my father would say if he finds out that my first couple of weeks in the city, I end up getting married to a one-night stand?”

Rachel frowned. “That’s what this little pity party is about, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your father. You’re worried about his opinion.”

“Of course, I am.”

“Sure, you married a stranger. You fucked up. You made a mistake. But that’s your own problem to deal with. Why does it always come down to him?”

Ellie had to think about it. Why was his opinion so important? She settled on her typical answer. “He was instrumental in me turning my life around.”

“Since when do you care what anyone—any man—thinks of you?”

“It’s more than that. This is supposed to be my opportunity to have a relationship with him.”

“All right. What’s your next step?”

Ellie sighed. “Put on mybig girl pantiesand deal with this, right?”

“That’s right. And first?”

“Find Gabe. Talk to him. I don’t even know how to find him.”

“Girl, I can help you out there,” Rachel said, scrolling through the photos on her phone. “I might know more about your husband than you do. I took that picture of his driver’s license, remember?”

“You’re smart,” Ellie told her, taking her phone. She looked at Gabe’s photo. It was ridiculous, but she found herself missing him. She regretted walking out on him this morning. She dedicated his home address to her memory and handed the phone back.

“That is one handsome husband you have there,” Rachel said with a laugh, but then she turned serious. “So, you’re going to go see him?”

“Yeah, I kind of have to, right?”

“You do.”

“What do I say?”

Rachel shrugged. “I guess you can start with ‘Hey, hubby.’”

“You’re a jerk.”

“I know, but you love me anyway.”

With a plan in place, her hangover had dissipated, and she felt ready to tackle her problems head-on.

“I do. That’s my problem,” she said, smiling at her friend. “Okay. I’m going to go. But first I need a shower.” She turned on her bedside lamp and took in her reflection in her mirror. “I can’t go see my husband looking like this.”

Gabe, freshly showered, somewhat hydrated but still feeling horrible, sat at his kitchen table in front of his opened laptop and tossed both platinum bands down next to it. He didn’t know what to do with them. But he felt somehow closer to his missing wife when it was near.

Where was she? Why did she leave without saying goodbye? He’d been with his fair share of women, acquaintances, strangers he’d never see again, familiar lovers he’d seen multiple times, but he’d never married any of them in a sex-and-booze-filled stupor. He’d known the minute he saw Ellie, with her huge, dark eyes, and lush, full mouth, that there was something about her. He tried to shake her. But he knew he wouldn’t be successful. Not until he saw her again. He had to find her.

Normally, the type of anonymous, one-night arrangement he’d shared with Ellie was fine with him. It was the kind of thing he sought out at Di Terrestres. Last night was different, and now he couldn’t get sweet, sexy, wild Ellie—his wife—out of his mind. He had no idea how he would get on with his day and focus on anything but her, and figuring out a way to find her.

Gabe needed advice—needed to talk to his friends, to let them know that he’d royally screwed up and put them all at risk. With his phone still shattered, he turned to his laptop and started up a video chat with the other members of the Brotherhood. One by one, his four friends’ faces filled his screen as they answered.

“Gabe!” Alana was the first to speak. “Where have you been? You’ve been completely MIA.” It had been only twenty-four hours, but she was right. He hadn’t been out of contact with any of them, especially Alana, for that long, in years.