Chapter 12: GABRIEL

“How’d she get the black eye?” Mace, the thirty-one-year-old yenta, looked around the kitchen island at Sebastian, Garrett, and I, like one of us had done it.

“Her sperm donor did it.”

“Is he dead?”

“Not yet.”

I guess that wasn’t good enough because he slammed the cleaver down on the cutting board. I ignored him; of course, I’m used to his theatrics, but the other two likes to egg him on. He had a lot to say about me going soft among some other colorful things, and I was in no mood for his shit.

“I need to get something out of him, okay.”

“From the looks of it, he’s been thumping on her and her mama for a while.” Now he’s an expert on domestic abuse. I’m not sure how he came by that conclusion true though it was, because there were no obvious bruises on the mother.