Gabriel Read Free

would crumble to dust.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked, picking up a sandwich and biting into the thick
     bread and meat. He barely smothered a greedy moan.
    “Besides making sure you don’t waste away from starvation?” She tilted her head before
     leaning against the wall and crossing her arms and ankles.
    The sharp retort on his lips died a quick death as the manners his mother had drummed
     into him since he was a kid reared their stubborn head. Belatedly, he rose from his
     office chair. The only seat in the barren room.
    “No.” Leah waved toward his plate. “Eat. I can’t stay that long anyway.”
    Reluctantly, he lowered back into the chair. He didn’t need much encouragement to
     resume consuming the meal she’d brought him. Until the sweet and tart flavor of meat
     and cheese hit his taste buds, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. He usually didn’t
     until Leah barged into his cave, braving—and ignoring—his bared teeth and snarls to
     shove food down his throat.
    There’d been many times he’d glanced up from his computer to find a steaming cup of
     coffee at his elbow, a bowl of some kind of soup beside it, and the lemony smell of
     a cleaning product she used to scrub his home free of dust. An image of her, wrists
     deep in sudsy water, washing dishes, or bending over the washing machine pouring detergent
     into a load of dirty clothes stole through his mind. She cared for him when he didn’t
     give a damn about himself.
    “What time is it?” he mumbled around a mouthful of ham and cheese.
    “Twelve thirty.”
    Gabriel grunted. He’d been writing for about three hours. Not bad. If he could get
     in at least four thousand more words before the end of the day, he could e-mail the
     partial manuscript to his agent.
    “He saw Catherine Pierce.”
    His head jerked up. Thoughts of murder and suspense splintered like shattered glass. Pierce .
    “What did you say?” he demanded, dropping the sandwich to the plate. The delicious
     ham turned to sand in his mouth.
    “I spoke with Dad this morning, and he told me he’d seen Catherine Pierce at a charity
     event this weekend.” Leah sighed, loosened her arms, and shoved off the wall. “Catherine
     is Richard’s mother, remember?”
    No shit. Gabriel swiveled around to face the computer.
    “Uncle Richard,” she murmured. “God, Gabe. Do you realize what today is?” She didn’t
     wait for his reply, not that he had one for her. “October twenty-third. Twenty years
     ago today, Richard vanished. I hadn’t thought of his disappearance in so long,” she
     whispered.
    “Why would you?” he asked, voice harsher than he’d intended. He briefly closed his
     eyes. Relaxed and stretched his fingers before turning around. “It’s been two decades,
     Leah.”
    She frowned. “I know how long it’s been. Does it mean you forget someone who was important
     to you? Someone you loved?”
    “Damn.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair and blew out a hard breath. “Look,
     I appreciate you stopping by and bringing lunch. But I don’t need you to baby me any
     longer, Leah.”
    Silence met his abrupt declaration. “I can’t stop worrying about you, Gabe,” she said
     softly.
    “I didn’t ask for your concern. I’m fine ,” he bit out. In this moment, he just wanted her gone out of the room so he couldn’t
     witness her eyes darken with pain or breathe in her vanilla-and-peppermint scent.
     So he didn’t have to fucking feel . Not sorrow. Not fear. Not desire. “What I am asking for is peace and space. Thanks
     for the food—now I need to get back to work.”
    Another weighty silence filled the room. She didn’t flinch, but the I’ll-be-damned-if-you-know-how-much-you-hurt-me
     mask dropped over her features like a curtain. He was familiar with the closed expression;
     he’d witnessed it too many times to count during her childhood when her father had
     rejected her. Witnessed it too many times to count in the past two