Rough Justice (Cainsville 5.5)

"Well, first, I'm going to need to borrow your phone."

Twenty-five

Gabriel

Gabriel could not get hold of Olivia. It wasn't the first time. In the past, though, most communication issues--at least, of the technical variety--had been fae in origin, purposely blocking them or sending messages from their accounts. The current communication problem, however, did not seem to be a fae issue so much as the very ordinary sort Gabriel and Olivia dealt with far too often--a breakdown of communication on a purely personal level.

When Olivia did finally get his message, she texted...which was not quite what he'd asked for.

What's up? she asked.

He sent back two words. Call me.

Can't. In the middle of something.

I need to speak to you, he replied.

Text?

That gave him pause. He couldn't very well text and say that he thought their client was actually guilty. That left a record. But saying nothing endangered Olivia.

Leave Heather, he sent, hoping that wasn't too cryptic.

Done. Now, gotta run. Talk soon.

What exactly did that mean? Done? That she'd spoken to Heather and moved on? Or was she--as Olivia herself would say--blowing him off?

Yep, totally ignoring Heather. Got it.

He flipped to another text, one that had come in a few minutes ago from Rose.

After you've spoken to Liv, come see me, please. No matter how late. I want to talk.

After you've spoken to Liv...

What did that mean?

Gabriel could pretend he didn't know, but there was only one scenario he might imagine, given that message.

Olivia knew about his nighttime visits to Seanna.

Which meant that Olivia was--again to use her vernacular--pissed. And when she was pissed, she didn't want anything to do with him. She was indeed blowing him off. Staying away until she'd finished pursuing a thread on the case, not wanting their personal issues to distract her from work.

Earlier, she'd been at the office, looking for him, wanting to confront him. And then, while waiting, she found some fresh lead, and she was off on that, putting him aside.

He could take comfort in the fact that she wasn't so furious that she'd sought him out immediately, work be damned. Except, if she was angry, he'd almost prefer that. Cold rage was worse. It boded worse.

She's finally had enough. She's done with you.

He stifled Gwynn's voice. Gwynn's fears, more accurately. Whatever consciousness remained of the fae king, he was Gabriel's guide, not his enemy. Gwynn's was the voice that said, "Seriously, you're keeping secrets from her again?" The fear came from Gabriel's own memories of Gwynn's mistakes with Matilda.

That realization hardly helped at this moment. What Gabriel felt was still that old fear.

She's had enough. She can't even be bothered telling you off.

He sent back one last text: May I join you, in whatever you're doing?

Mmm. Bad idea. Sorry. Love to have you along, but right now, that just gets complicated. Will call soon... I hope!