Cruel Fate Page 3
“Yes, but there’s a better one off our room. A soaking tub with—”
His hand rose to stop me. “The one in the main bathroom is fine. It’s a tub. I have dreamed of tubs.”
“If you want—”
He cut me off again, this time with a kiss on my cheek. “The only thing I want is to take a long bath while my daughter relaxes with a glass of wine and stops fretting about me.”
Once his footsteps sounded on the upstairs floor, I sagged into a kitchen chair.
“He’s fine, Olivia,” Gabriel said.
“I know.”
He pulled out the chair beside mine and lowered himself into it. “You wanted today to be perfect. You’re disappointed.”
I shook my head.
“You are disappointed,” he continued. “Not in his reaction, but in yourself. In failing to give what you consider the perfect homecoming.”
I rubbed my face. “I just wanted…”
“He’s happy. He’s free, and he’s—”
“Can we do something? I could use a distraction.”
His brows arched.
“No,” I said. “I’m a little stressed for that. Just…I don’t know. I guess a glass of wine or…” I slumped. “I don’t know.”
Gabriel disappeared into the living room. At one time, I’d have taken this as a sign that he’d had enough of my crap. Enough dealing with my emotions. Because that was exactly what he used to do when faced with the prospect of handling an emotional outburst. It’s what he still did if a client dared to get upset about the prospect of life in prison. Gabriel would suddenly get a call—urgent, must answer—and excuse himself.
After a while, if I was the one upset, he wouldn’t just walk away. He’d flee. Having always avoided dealing with emotion—in others and himself—he had no idea how to handle it, even when he might want to. Of course, all I’d seen was that he walked away.
Now, when he left the room, I knew he’d be back. He was getting something. It just wouldn’t occur to him to say so. He simply walked out.
He returned with a Scotch bottle in one hand and two tumblers in the other. As he walked, he deftly uncapped the bottle one-handed and poured a finger into each glass. Then he set one glass in front of me. Paused. Considered. Added another finger to mine and then put the bottle aside.
I smiled. “Better than wine.”
“I thought so.”
He tugged his tie off and laid it on the chair back before popping open his top button.
My smile lingered as I watched. He stopped after one open button. Hardly a striptease, yet in some ways, it was. Gabriel letting down his guard. Gabriel relaxing, as he couldn’t do around anyone except me. The ice in his eyes melted, irises turning the pale blue of well-worn jeans, soft and familiar. He ran a hand through his wavy black hair, breaking the gel hold and letting it tumble over his widow’s peak. At thirty-one, faint lines had already sprouted around his eyes and mouth, but it was definitely not a bad look for him. He had a broad face, harsh, with a strong nose and strong jaw, a face that would age well as it matured.
I lifted off my seat, leaned across the table and pressed my lips to his.
“Thank you,” I said, “for today.”
His lips parted, and he seemed ready to speak, to pursue my opening and talk about today and my father. Then he caught my eye, nodded again and sipped his Scotch.
“We have a new case,” he said. “One you might find interesting.”
I grinned and settled back in my seat. “Tell me about it.”
Three
Olivia
Gabriel’s new case wasn’t particularly urgent. It wouldn’t even require more than routine investigative work. Telling me about it was only a distraction. A topic to discuss that took my mind off my father.
Todd came down a while later to ask a few questions about his cell phone. I suspected he just did that to please me—he wouldn’t have any immediate need of it. The only people he’d call were me or Gabriel. His parents were dead. He had a half sister he didn’t know well, and she’d cut ties after his arrest.
Growing up, Todd had plenty of friends, like-minded guys from that era, living in a small city, finishing high school and getting good-paying jobs in factories or the trades. While the others had reveled in their newfound freedom and disposable income, Todd had gotten married, moved to the city and had a child with serious medical needs. He no longer fit in with his old crowd, and he had no time to make new friends. Even if he had, I doubted they’d be anyone he could share more than an awkward catch-up beer with now.
As for my mother, I didn’t know the status of their relationship, and I didn’t want to ask. There was a bond there, an unbreakable one. Communication, naturally, had been difficult and sporadic. He hadn’t asked to contact her since he’d been out. Nor had he mentioned going to see her. He might. If he did, I’d honor his wishes. I sure as hell wasn’t going to suggest it, though. He might have forgiven her. I couldn’t. I was my mother’s daughter, and I’d carry my grudges to the bitter end.
Todd would get a job. He would move into his own place. He was eager for both, while also knowing that he needed to find his footing first. Get his driver’s license. Upgrade his skills. Spend time in the world, acclimatizing. He hadn’t even shopped for groceries in two decades. The most mundane experiences could be overwhelming to him. I’d read enough on reintegrating ex-cons to know this. I just hadn’t really understood it until now.
After Todd went to bed, Gabriel and I did some paperwork at the dining room table. This was where we preferred to work, both of us on our laptops, rarely speaking but still together.
I was deep in online research when my cell phone revved. Ricky’s ringtone. I motioned to Gabriel that I’d take it out back so he could work in peace. His mouth opened to tell me that wasn’t necessary, but I slipped out to the deck before he could stop me.
“Hey,” I said to Ricky. “How’s Miami?”
“No hurricanes this time. Still hot. Still humid. It’s getting better now that the sun’s dropping, so I’m hanging out at the pool.”
“Got your swim trunks on, catching some rays, getting a spring tan…”
“Nah. I’m just occupying a lounge chair. Fully clothed.”
“You do realize you’re disappointing every woman—and some guys—at that pool. At least take your T-shirt off.”
He laughed. “It’s all families here.”
“So, they can still admire. Take your shirt off. That’s an order, and my goodwill deed for the day.”
He only laughed again, and I heard him gulp a drink.
“That better have an umbrella in it,” I said.
“Actually, it does. I eyed the beer selection and decided I’d earned something stronger.”
“Rough day?”
“Just long. Lots of negotiating. I won, so it’s all good. And I hear you had a lovely lunch with your dad.”
I snorted. “Gabriel told you?”
“Warned me.”
“He also asked you to call, didn’t he? I’m not talking to him about it, so he’s called in the reinforcements and asked for help.”
“Gabriel ask for help? Never. He simply let me know how it went in case I should wish to speak to you this evening, and if I did, he might suggest that a call would be best, as it has been a long day for you, and texting would be onerous. Also, you may be busy tomorrow, so tonight is preferable.”
I laughed again, easing onto a deck chair. “Well, thank you for correctly deciphering his SOS signal. Yes, I had a rough day. Yes, I’m not talking to him about it, but only because I don’t need to discuss it. I expected too much. I made mistakes. I feel bad. I’ll get over it.”
“So I prepared a big speech, and now I don’t get a chance to use it? Screw that. You’re stuck with it.”
I stretched out on the chair. “Will it include any analogies?”
“Only bad ones. Long, rambling, ultimately pointless personal stories that are intended to make an analogy and to
tally miss the mark. That’s the only kind I do.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Good. Now, first, establishing my credentials, I believe I’m the person in your life best suited to discuss your father’s release with you, having some experience with the subject matter.”
“Being released from prison?”
“Never. I lead a blameless life. And even if I didn’t, I have an awesome lawyer. However, I may have friends who have spent time in jail.”
“Because your awesome lawyer failed?”
“Yeah, you go inside and tell him that. See where you spend the night. Awesome lawyer is awesome, but even he can’t save us from ourselves. So I’ve known guys who’ve been released. The difference is that they were only away for a year or two. Your dad got locked up when he was my age. Yeah, you know that. But I can’t help imagining it. Go to prison at my age. Get out when I’m double that. You’ve thought about this. I know you have. It’s just…I’m not sure we can really comprehend it.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know, but…” He trailed off. “Should I shut up now?”
“No.”
“I’m not saying you need to try harder. That isn’t possible. If Gabriel is worried—okay, yeah, he is worried, so forget if. He’s worried that you’re trying too hard. The truth, Liv, is that we can’t imagine what this is like for Todd. The thing is…” He exhaled. “Did I ever tell you about the dog I got when I was ten?”
“No.”
“There’s a reason for that. So, I’m ten, and my dad wants to buy this auto-body shop. While he’s negotiating the price, I wander around back and find this dog chained to the building. Five-foot chain. No shelter. Filthy bowls. The dog’s thin and mangy. I don’t touch it, of course. I know better. But I show my dad, and I beg him to help. He talks to the shop owner. Guy bought the mutt as a guard dog, but it didn’t work out, so he kept it tied behind the shop. Dad buys the dog from him. I’m thrilled. I’m going to nurse it back to health and give it the most amazing doggie life ever, and it’ll be my best friend and love me forever.”
“Didn’t work out that way, did it?”
“Hell, no. That dog had spent its life behind an auto-body shop, on a five-foot chain. No one walked it. No one petted it. No one said a kind word to it. So it wanted nothing to do with this kid who kept shoving toys at it and throwing balls for it and bringing it treats. Within a week, the dog bit me hard enough I needed stitches. It went to live with one of the guys in the club who didn’t have kids and used to foster shelter dogs.” A pause. “Shit. I just compared your dad to a half-crazed mutt that nearly bit my hand off. Great…”
I shifted the phone to my other ear. “No, don’t worry. I get it.”
“Whew.”
“You’re telling me how your early experience with that dog prepared you for nursing Lloergan back into a healthy, trusting cwˆn.”
He paused. “Uh…”
I laughed. “Just kidding, though I’m sure it helped with her. You’re reminding me that my father has spent twenty years like that dog, tied to his cell, with minimal social interaction. You were the kid eager to save a neglected dog. I’m the one eager to fix my father’s ruined life. He needs time to heal and adjust.”
“Which you know.”
“But I need more reminders. Okay, point taken. I’ll back off. Now, speaking of Lloe, did Ioan tell you what she got into while you were gone?”
“No…”
“Excellent. You’ll love this one. So Ioan texted me yesterday. Apparently, your cwˆn…”
Four
Gabriel
Gabriel lay on his back, listening to the sound of Olivia not sleeping. She’d seemed fine after talking to Ricky. She’d come into the house with a genuine smile on her lips and a lightness in her step and a calm in her eyes. At one time, that would have been a knife in his gut. A reminder of the bond she shared with Ricky. A reminder of what he had been to her, and a reminder that she’d been happy with him.
Happy with Ricky. Happier with Gabriel. That’s what Olivia would say, and he knew that was true. She loved Ricky. Present tense, not past. But that love could be fully expressed in friendship. She said once it should have always been friendship, and it only became more because that seemed natural for an unattached man and woman. Which might be true, and yet, when Gabriel considered the matter, detached from emotion and jealousy, he was glad it had gone beyond friendship. That question had been answered, that temptation removed. Ricky and Olivia knew that as happy as they’d been together, their relationship had been static, lacking a future.
It was Gabriel who got half her closet. It was Gabriel who shared a bed with her every night. And it was Gabriel who wore her ring, a joke that was not really a joke, an old-fashioned promise ring she’d given him as a declaration that this was where she wanted to be and who she wanted to be with. When she was ready, he would replace her own promise ring with an engagement one, and he had no doubt she’d accept it.
With that, he knew his place in Olivia’s life, and he knew Ricky’s, and so the knife no longer twisted when Ricky lifted her mood after Gabriel could not. Instead, he saw Ricky as a tool in his kit for making Olivia happy. Yes, perhaps “tool” was unfair. Gabriel respected Ricky, liked him, even considered him a friend. What he meant was that he accepted that Ricky had a talent for calming and centering Olivia in a way Gabriel could not.
As they settled into bed, though, the effect of Ricky’s call had worn off, and Olivia’s mind had nothing to do but fret. Lying on his back beside her felt insensitive. Yet when he’d turned toward her and laid a hand on her hip, she’d stiffened. It had only lasted a second before she gave him a rueful smile and a “maybe tomorrow night,” as if he’d been initiating sex. That could have stung. Except…
Except it was not untrue. That was how their nights went. Unless one or the other fell into bed exhausted, they had sex. Made love, curled up together and fell into happy, satisfied sleep.
It wasn’t as if Gabriel had expected sex after her rough day. He never expected it, any more than she did. What he’d thought, instead, was that sex could be a way to distract her. He’d please her, and then she’d fall into that happy, satisfied sleep.
Her tensing had told him he’d made the wrong move. So now he needed to make the right one. Reach out and pull her to him and make it very clear that nothing more would be happening tonight. Skip the lovemaking. Move straight to the cuddling. Hold her and kiss her and tell her it’d be all right. Let her know he was thinking of her, and that she was loved.
Simple. So perfectly simple. So why the hell was he lying on his back, staring at the dark ceiling, listening to her breathe?
Because he wasn’t quite certain how to proceed.
Well, first you turn to actually face her…
What if he made it worse? He could tell her he didn’t want sex, but she might still think he was hopeful. Also, if he cuddled her, his physical response might belie his words. Would she be angry? Offended? What if his hands accidentally slid where they shouldn’t? Would she shove him away? Stalk out and sleep downstairs? The last thing she needed right now was an insensitive clod wheedling for sex when he knew she wasn’t in the mood.
He shouldn’t need to worry about this. They’d been together over a year. There should have been plenty of cuddling that didn’t follow lovemaking or lead to it.
Except there wasn’t.
Blame a collision of circumstances. First, Olivia had an appetite for sex. A deep appetite. He remembered Rose warning him about that, early on, when she suspected Gabriel might be withdrawing his friendship from Olivia because she’d begun sleeping with Ricky.
“If it doesn’t go well with Ricky, she’ll find someone else. Someone you’ll like and respect a whole lot less than him. Someone who will be a hell of a lot less understanding about how much time she spends with you. Olivia appreciates men.”
That was Rose’s way of saying Olivia liked sex. And Gabriel had absolutely no problem with that.
He used to worry that he wouldn’t live up to Ricky. For Gabriel, sex had always been efficient—he’d get it quickly and then leave quickly, hoping the combination would discourage women from calling him the next day. He’d considered his own appetite perfunctory, as it was in most things. With Olivia, he’d realized he had only needed a partner he cared for, someone he could relax with and enjoy. Someone he wanted to please.
The issues with his pre-Olivia sex life arose from the second part of the “collision of circumstance.” Gabriel’s childhood had been devoid of physical affection. There’d been none from his mother, and Rose had shown her affection with attention and kindness and love, but she was not the hugging type, which meant that he grew up the same, to the point where he avoided physical contact. The only exception was Olivia, and he didn’t merely tolerate her touch—he welcomed it, craved it.
If asked before today, he’d have said he and Olivia had a very physically affectionate relationship. Then he’d felt her jump when he’d kissed her head at the restaurant. Not dismayed. Merely surprised. He rarely did that at all, let alone in public. Kissing and hugging were for sex—a precursor or an aftermath or part of the act itself. She’d peck his cheek in greeting or leaving, or she’d put one arm around him in a quick embrace. His physical affection came through simple touches, as it had even before they began dating. A hand on her back. A squeeze of her arm. His fingers on hers.
Turn to face her, and touch her hip again, and tell her you mean nothing by it, and then hold her.
That’s all. Just hold her.
He took a deep breath and began to flip over—
Olivia’s head shot up, and he froze, the words on his lips. I was just—
“Did you see that?” she said, pushing up from her pillow.
He was ready to ask what she’d seen. An omen, perhaps? Instead, he followed her gaze to the security panel. The elders had hated him installing that—it suggested they could not keep their Matilda safe. Gabriel didn’t care. The Tylwyth Teg had made mistakes before, and whatever magical wards they used, he trusted locks and alarms more.