Page 27 of Love At the Gates of Hell (The Seven Sinners Trilogy #1)

“Just focus on me, princess,” he said, taking another step toward her, crowding her body with his. “Sometimes the most simple reaction is the best. Someone like me might underestimate you—I might come right into your space and try and intimidate you and end up leaving myself wide open—”

He mimicked grabbing for her shoulder.

“So you can get me here,” he continued, gesturing to her leg. “A snap kick, kind of like what you did at the quarry but—”

She didn’t need him to finish, her leg coming up quick to his groin.

He grabbed at her ankle, ready for her, and swept her back. She landed in a small heap on the mat with a startled “Ah!” as Gideon dropped down to a squat. His eyes did a quick scan to make sure she was alright before he grinned.

“You didn’t think I was going to just let you kick me, did you?”

She narrowed her eyes, brushing her hair off her face.

Then, without warning, she lunged at him, knocking him off his feet and flat onto his back. She was straddling him, her hands pressing his shoulders into the mat as she peered down, her ponytail falling over her shoulder. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, a wry little grin on her face.

“And this move?” she asked, self-satisfaction dripping from her smile.

“Feral,” he breathed, his hands flat on the mat, fingers itching to press into the soft skin of her thighs. “It’ll work better if you can use your magic with it.”

She sank against him, her head hanging low and it took everything in him not to just wrap his arms around her.

“I’m trying ,” she said. “But I don’t actually want to hurt you.”

Well, that was a win. He propped himself up on his elbows.

“Was it fear?” he asked. “Anger?”

She looked up at him, her brow furrowing.

“Which one is better?”

“Anger,” he said, almost immediately.

“Why?”

Because the idea of her feeling any more fear than she already did made his heart ache.

It had been hard enough watching her break down into tears when her friends arrived.

And anger seemed like a healthier alternative, at least until she could summon the magic without needing either.

If that was possible. What the fuck did he know about magic?

Other than the incomprehensible way he felt about Benny in such a short amount of time.

That felt a little bit like magic to Gideon.

“It’s a lot more fun to make you mad.”

Benny huffed a breath as she pulled herself off of him, settling in on the mat, drawing her legs up to her chin. She wrapped her arms around her calves and leveled Gideon with a look he couldn’t read.

“I think it was both,” she said, after a moment. “Maybe. The docks felt different. Like I was completely out of control of my body. But when that guy grabbed me at the quarry, I was just pissed.”

“You were in control,” he said, recalling the moment he found her with Mack, and the resolution he saw on her face.

“I saw you,” she said. “You had just lectured me about staying behind and the moment I go off on my own, this idiot grabs me and I was just…”

“So you were pissed at me,” he laughed. “We can definitely work with that.”

“I wanted to prove you wrong,” she admitted, her nose wrinkling. “I wanted to show you that I could control it.”

“You did.” God, he loved when she scrunched up her face like that. “Do you think you can do that again?”

She grinned, “Prove you wrong? How much indignity can you suffer?”

He laughed, knowing he had walked directly into that. But he liked seeing her smile. And this was progress. He pulled himself up to sit, watching as the sky darkened overhead, the shadows of the sunset creating a warmth in her skin. He pulled up the hem of his T-shirt to wipe at his face.

“Let’s try again tomorrow,” he said, before reaching for one of her hands.

He was careful as he pulled at the velcro, unwrapping the fabric tied around her fingers. She tilted her head as she watched him, another stray curl falling from her hair tie and he wondered briefly what it would feel like between his fingers.

“When did you start boxing?” she asked, and something in her voice made him steal a glance. She was staring down at their hands, at his fingers pressing gently into her wrist as he used his other hand to unwrap her palm.

“Eighteen,” he said looking back down, thinking about his first fight and the money he’d been able to bring home that night. It had kept the electricity on. “Went pretty hard for a few years, made some money on fights… But it helped. I needed the release.”

“Release from what?”

He moved on to the other hand, not quite sure how to answer.

“A lot of things,” he said instead. “Luke was a handful and money was tight. It was probably the safest choice I could have made at the time.”

“What about your parents?”

“My mom fucked off when I was a kid and my dad—”

Fifteen years and this was still really fucking hard.

“He died that year,” he said finally, letting her go, the wraps balled up in his fists. “So it was just me and Luke.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she said, immediately reaching for him again, her hand resting on his forearm. “I am so sorry.”

He was hesitant to meet her gaze, to see the pity that usually came with this reveal.

Gideon and Luke had managed a real life for themselves, however gray it was in the grand scheme of things.

They’d paid their dues with Frank, they’d worked hard to get out of the two bedroom twin row house in Oxford Circle.

He was proud of what they’d built. Proud that it was done on a foundation their father secured for them.

But when he looked up, all he saw in her eyes was a warmth and a compassion that would have shocked the hell out of him a week ago. He scrubbed his hand across his face, unsure of what to do with himself. Or the fact that she was still touching him.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Time has never made it easier for me,” she said. “I still think about my mom all the time. Wonder if she’d be proud or disappointed or completely horrified at the choices I’ve made…”

“Horrified?” Gideon mused.

Benny waved her hand, a question she wasn’t going to answer.

“I don’t mind it, though,” she continued. “Living with the grief. I like thinking about her, and missing her. It’s all that love, you know? It’s gotta go somewhere.”

He hadn’t thought of grief in that way before, of love manifesting itself in a different way after death. He was still fighting with some resentment. Of what he needed to give up. But his father couldn’t have known. And so what was the point of holding that against him?

He wondered if what happened to her mother helped shape her grief.

Eamond Crawford went into every job knowing it was a risk. The boys had always known that something could happen to their father. Hell, he knew it now. Especiall y now, with Benny to keep safe.

Benny’s mother was taken from her.

“Sounds like good therapy.”

He watched as Benny smiled, the way it lit up her face even as the sky darkened around them. “Exceptionally good,” she said, squeezing his arm. “I should probably schedule a session. I bet you she’d have some really good insight for me right now.”

“Right this minute?”

“Very much so,” she sighed.

Gideon pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He wanted to touch her so badly he was staring to lose his resolve. But what would that accomplish? They were just starting to find their footing with one another. He didn’t want to do anything to complicate that further.

He pushed himself up to stand before offering her a hand.

When she took it, she had this look on her face, another expression he couldn’t read.

She steadied herself, her hand pressing against his shoulder as she straightened.

She was so close. He could smell his shampoo on her hair, the sweat on her skin…

Jesus Christ he needed to step away from her.

“Go shower,” he said, moving to start cleaning up the roof. “I’ll figure out dinner and see if we’ve got anymore news from Harker.”

“Hopefully the dryer is done,” she said, stretching her arms above her head, his T-shirt riding up on her abdomen. “Otherwise I’m raiding your closet again.”

He tried to bite back his smile.

“We’ve got to get you more clothes,” he sighed.