“I think I need to.”

He seemed to chew a stick of gum himself, his jaw working. Then, his shades still on, he met my gaze. “Have I done something wrong, Olivia?”

I don’t want to break down in front of you. I feel like you’re already disappointed in my weakness. You expect better of me. I can’t give you better. Not with this. So I’d like you to stay outside.

“I just think I should handle this on my own.”

His chin jerked up, lips tightening.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “If I’d realized this in Chicago, I’d have caught a cab. I didn’t mean to have you chauffeur me out here—”

“I didn’t chauffeur you. I wouldn’t have let you come on your own. Not until this other matter is settled.” He adjusted his cuffs. “I’ll escort you in, then, and ensure all the proper arrangements have been made. Is that suitable?”

I could hear the chill in his voice. Damn it, Gabriel. This is not the time to get your back up.

“I’m sor—”

“No need. I understand.”

He pulled open the door and ushered me through.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When I went to see Pamela for the first time, I’d been surprised to meet her at a table, with nothing between us. Gabriel had said the authorities would never let me get that close to Todd. He was right. I was sitting on a rickety stool, staring at a battered speaker and scratched Plexiglas, listening to the woman beside me complain to her inmate husband about the neighbors parking in front of their house.

I’d been a fool to ask Gabriel to stay outside. Yes, it would be harder with him here, watching and assessing, but that would give me a reason to be stronger.

I stood and turned toward the door. Should I ask him to come in? I—

“Olivia.”

I jerked back. The voice was so familiar, my adopted name so wrong in it.

“If you’re leaving, I understand.”

His voice was soft, yet still audible over the faint buzz of the speaker.

My knees wobbled, and I think if I could have run without falling flat on my face, I would have, but I couldn’t move.

“If you can stay, just back up and sit down. You don’t have to turn around. Be careful, though. You don’t want to miss the stool.”

A soft chuckle. Oh God, I knew that chuckle, just as I knew the quiet voice and the louder raucous one, too. I could hear that voice strumming with laughter as he pushed me on the swing. As he swooped me up, swirling me around. As he put me on his shoulders. As he tossed me onto the couch and whirled me around in a pool. Always playing, always feeding my need to go higher, go faster, to feel the adrenaline rush.