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Gabriel wa
s not dreaming, but it was perhaps the closest he'd ever come. The images spooling through his sleeping mind were still memories, yet bits and pieces of them, strung together like a clumsily tied rope of mismatched cloth.
He started in the car, the night before, telling Olivia she was imagining things, as a voice in his head yelled at him to stop, just stop, what the fuck was he doing, but he kept saying it, and when he saw the shock and pain in her eyes, he was glad of it. Satisfaction and shame, roiling together. Then they were back in Evans's basement, his leg bleeding as he told her to get out, escape while she could, that he wouldn't stay for her. She said she didn't care. And she didn't. It wasn't about tit for tat, helping him because he'd do the same for her. She'd believed he would have left her, and yet she'd stayed for him.
At the car now, the burning car, the girl--Macy--ordering Olivia to climb into it or she'd shoot him. Later, standing by his window, sharing a drink, he'd had to make sure Olivia crawled into that burning car only because she knew Gabriel would get the jump on Macy.
"Mmm, not exactly. But I had a plan."
"Good. Don't put yourself at risk for anyone, Olivia. Ever. It isn't worth it."
In his car again, telling her she was imagining things, saying exactly the words that would hurt her the most. You're delusional. Laughing when she said they were friends. That voice in his head screaming for him to stop, but a louder, more determined one prodding him on. You have to do this. Disillusion her. Teach her not to trust anyone, especially you. Hurt her a little now, and you'll save her that pain later.
He wasn't her fairy prince. The idea was ludicrous. If she expected him to ride in and rescue her . . .
Except she didn't expect that. She never had. And that wasn't what Gwynn had done anyway, was it? No knight-in-shining-armor there, but a selfish bastard who didn't even have the guts to try to win Matilda from Arawn. He'd betrayed his friend. Betrayed his lover. Forced Matilda to choose when she already had. Gwynn refused to share her time or attention. He'd lied and manipulated and betrayed everyone he supposedly cared about, because he didn't really care about anyone except himself.
And Gabriel said he wasn't Gwynn?
But that was their choice, wasn't it? That's what Olivia meant--they weren't really Matilda and Gwynn and Arawn. Olivia was no flighty girl, believing Gabriel's lies, accepting his betrayals. Ricky wasn't simply her friend, and he wasn't the arrogant Lord of the Underworld, either--he cared about Olivia and he respected her, and if Gabriel ever suggested the kind of pact Gwynn had with Arawn, Ricky would tell him to go to hell.
Ricky and Olivia had broken from their roles. And Gabriel . . . ?
The memory changed. He was standing in his bedroom doorway, Olivia sitting up in his bed, her eyes wide from whatever she'd been dreaming. No, not whatever.
"You left," she said, "and I didn't know why. I was trapped in the dark, and I couldn't get out, and I called and you wouldn't come."
"I wouldn't do that."
The memory shifted. He was eating dinner tonight. He couldn't even remember what it was--takeout bought at a drive-thru, mechanically eaten as he'd sat at the table, staring at a pile of papers and pretending to read. Then his phone rang.
Olivia's ring tone. She'd set it up a week ago. They'd been talking when a client called, and he'd gotten annoyed because he'd had to pause the conversation long enough to check his call display.
"You need ring tones," she said. "So you'll know if it's important without needing to take two entire seconds to check."
"Do you really think I know how to set a ring tone?"
She'd put out her hand. A few minutes of tapping and she handed his phone back. "One for Rose and one for Lydia. One for Don, too, as your premier client. One for Ricky, because he'd feel left out otherwise. And, of course, one for me, so you'll know I'm bugging you, and you can ignore it."
Which would never happen. That's what he'd thought, with an oddly warm feeling. I'll know it's you, and I'll always answer.
Now the phone rang, her ring tone, a jaunty little tune that reminded him of Olivia in a good mood, chipper and bouncy. It rang and it rang, and he did not answer.
Back to the bedroom.
"Anytime you need me, I'm here," he said. "If you call, I'll come."
"I know."
She'd called once more after that. Late, as he was in bed, trying to sleep. He'd heard it ring, and he'd rolled over and waited for it to go to voice mail. He didn't check the message. Nor had he checked the last one. Ignoring voice mail, texts, and e-mail. Getting his distance. That was best for both of them.
Because I am Gwynn, and I can't escape it. He destroyed her, and he loved her. I'll destroy you and . . .
He fell into the memory again, Olivia sitting up in bed, eyes wide as he assured her he'd never fail her. He'd always be there for her. Always, always, always.
"Gabriel!"
He shot upright, as if he'd been only dozing. He blinked and peered around the room. The dark and empty room.
