The terror of the memory flew back, and he thought of her sleeping in the next room. He scrambled up, crossed the room, threw open the door. He couldn’t see her—the back of the couch faced his bedroom door. He couldn’t hear her, either, so he jogged over, heart tripping even as he told himself he was being foolish, she was fine, just fine. But the memory lingered, the old threat entwining with new ones.

He rounded the sofa to find her sleeping soundly, lying on her side, blanket pulled up, hands tucked under her cheek, pillow half fallen to the floor. Resisting the urge to push the pillow back in place, he stepped away quickly. Whatever his excuse, he didn’t want her waking to find him standing over her. At best, she’d decide she needed to sleep elsewhere. At worst, he’d get a switchblade in his gut.

He double-checked the door locks and alarm. She’d left the curtains open on the floor-to-ceiling window. There was no nearby building tall enough to pose any risk of prying eyes, and if the condo hadn’t come with curtains, he’d never have bothered adding them. But he closed them now. Just to be safe.

Before they shut, he gazed down at the city, and that anxiety bubbled again, the memory returning, dragging with it a sense of impotence he hadn’t felt in twenty years.

It didn’t take a psychology degree to understand where the dream had come from tonight. The situation with James Morgan was growing steadily worse, and for the first time in his adult life, faced with a threat, Gabriel seemed unable to stop it. The fact that the threat was directed at Olivia was inconsequential. It felt the same as one directed at himself, and he didn’t waste a moment untangling that. All that mattered was that he accepted responsibility for this situation.

When Morgan had approached them outside the restaurant last week, Gabriel had decided to nip this situation in the bud. Couple blackmail with a generous dose of physical intimidation and the idiot would back off. Instead, Morgan had hired a private eye to investigate Gabriel and Ricky. When that failed to bring Olivia running, he’d made it clear to Gabriel that he would get her back by any means possible. Hence Gabriel’s visit to Morgan’s house, which should have put a clear end to everything. I’m better at this game and I will break you, James Morgan. But Morgan had gotten him arrested and charged, and then sent deprogrammers after Olivia. Every move Gabriel made, Morgan countered . . . and the threat against Olivia rose.

Gabriel finally had to admit the unthinkable. He hadn’t merely failed to solve a problem—he was actually making it worse.