Deceptions
Page 23

I nodded, but he held my gaze. “I’m so, so sorry. I know that’s not enough, and I know this has been hell on you, Olivia.”
“It’s Liv.”
He paused, as if he hadn’t heard right, probably because I croaked the words.
“It’s usually Liv,” I said. “It doesn’t have to be. I answer to pretty much anything except Olive, but . . . most people call me Liv.”
I could see him struggling not to smile, to keep his expression neutral, not to make a big deal out of this. And it wasn’t a big deal . . . except I’d never told Pamela to call me Liv.
“Okay, then. Liv.”
The guard came over and stood behind him. The man didn’t say anything, actually seemed to be respectfully keeping his distance, but Todd nodded, acknowledging the message.
“Time to go,” I said. “I . . . I’ll need to come back. If that’s okay.”
“I’m not sure I can find the time, and it is a terrible imposition, but if you insist . . .”
I choked on a laugh. “Okay. I’ll come back. I do have questions.”
“I’m sure you do. It was good to see you.”
I nodded, stood, and left as he was led away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The visiting room door opened before I could grab the handle. I looked up at Gabriel.
“Coming to fetch me?” I asked. Then I noticed the window in the door.
He waved me through and shut the door.
“How long were you watching?” I asked.
I waited for him to say he hadn’t been, that he’d known my time was up and had come to meet me.
He said nothing.
I let him lead me away, silent as we exited the building.
Had he seen me sitting there with my back to Todd? Seen me crying? Humiliation and anger swirled hot in my gut.
“I asked you—” I began.
“Not to accompany you inside, so I didn’t. I waited at the door.”
“You watched from the door.”
A slight narrowing of his eyes before he slapped on his shades. “I knew this would be difficult, and I thought it best if I was nearby, in case you needed counsel.”
“What kind of counsel could I possibly—” I swallowed the rest.
If you embarrassed yourself, that’s your fault. Don’t take it out on him.
I started for the car. It took a moment to realize Gabriel still stood outside the prison door.
“What have I done, Olivia?”
“Nothing. You’re right. I just didn’t want—”
I bit off the words, shook my head again, and started to turn away.
“Didn’t want what?”
“You to see what I did in there, how I reacted.”
His head tilted, lips pursing slightly. “Because you were upset?”
“Can we drop it? Please? I’d like to get out of here.”
Once we reached the parking lot, he said, “You asked me to accompany you. You wanted me there, and then you did not, and I’d like to know what I’ve done, Olivia, because I cannot figure it out.”
“You’ve done nothing. You’ve been above-and-beyond helpful, especially in the last few days, and if I haven’t let you know how much I appreciate—”
“I want to know what I did to make you change your mind about having me there when you met Todd.”
I opened the car door but paused before climbing inside and looked across the roof. “You did absolutely nothing wrong. It was one hundred percent me.”
His brows knitted, as if I were a witness deliberately ducking a direct question.
I sighed and then admitted, “I was embarrassed. After the throwing up . . . I was worried it would get even worse when I saw him. And I wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t face him at first, Gabriel. I literally could not face him.”
A pause, so long that my gut twisted. I overshared. Again. Goddamn it, Gabriel, do not ask for answers when you don’t want them.
Finally, he said, “I would not judge you for—”
“But you do.”
I tried to drop it, just climb into the car and break the conversation, but my hands gripped the roof and the words poured out before I could stop them.
“You do judge me. It’s subtle, and it might not be intentional, but I can see it and I can feel it. You have no patience with weakness. You have no patience with emotional outbursts. I might not be what you first expected: a spoiled brat playing at living a real life. But it took me a hell of a long time to prove I wasn’t that girl, and I still feel like I’m walking a balance beam, ready at any moment to tumble out of your good graces. To make a stupid decision. To overreact to a problem. To be the useless debutante you expect.”
He stood there, blank shades fixed on me, the face below them equally blank.
I exhaled. “And speaking of overreacting . . . I—I didn’t mean to do that. I should probably . . .” I caught sight of a taxi dropping off a passenger. “I’ll catch a ride back to the city and call Ricky.”
I headed for the taxi, picking up speed as it started to pull away. I waved and it stopped, and I was almost at the door before Gabriel intercepted me. He motioned the cab on. The guy sped off without even glancing at me.
“Ricky has club business tonight,” Gabriel said.
“I know, but he said if I needed him—”
“You don’t.” He waved me toward the car. “Don won’t appreciate it, not when I’m here and can handle this.”