Chapter Twenty-three

**OLIVER'S POV**

I sat in my car for several minutes, running all possible scenarios through my head. I wondered if he would want to see me. Gabriel. I wondered if he was angry with me—after all, it had taken me a week to come see him. Beside me, my lawyer sat perusing through Gabriel’s file, murmuring to himself. The barricade outside the police station kept the journalists at bay, their voices a distant hum even through the car’s thick glass.
The reality of the situation weighed heavily on me. Gabriel, arrested for Samantha’s murder, was a nightmare I couldn’t have imagined in my darkest thoughts. My mind kept replaying the last moments we’d shared before he left—how angry he was, how he’d walked away with barely a word. And now, here we were. The idea of facing him again after so long filled me with dread.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the tinted SUV, ignoring the loud calls, ridiculous questions, and annoying flashes of the journalists. The glare of camera lights was blinding, each flashed a painful reminder of the scandal we were embroiled in. I kept my face neutral, not giving them any more ammunition. The whispers reached my ears, comments about Gabriel, about me, about how “fitting” it was that we’d both fallen from grace.
Once inside the station, the noise from outside became a muffled buzz. The cool air hit my skin, a stark contrast to the hot sun outside. I took off my glasses as I entered, and looked around. The sterile smell of the station mixed with the faint odor of sweat and desperation. I could feel the eyes of everyone on me, even through their pretense. Some glanced up briefly, others openly stared, their gazes heavy with judgment or curiosity. I wondered if they believed what the news said—that Gabriel had killed Samantha to be with me. That I had flaked on her, jilted her, driven her to her death. The narrative was perfect for the tabloids, but it was far from the truth.
My lawyer, who had been silent beside me, now let out a sigh. The small exertion of walking across the station seemed to be quite the strain for the older man, but he kept his pace steady, determined. I appreciated his presence, even if it was only a formality. He was there to ensure Gabriel’s rights were protected, to make sure that this farce of an investigation didn’t go any further than it already had.
I marched to the counter, more than ready to have this over and done with. “Good morning,” I greeted the officer at the desk, my voice clipped. “I’m here to see Gabriel.”
The lady in blue spared me a glance, her eyes scanning me before she nodded. “Come with me.”
She turned and led us through the station, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor. The sound echoed in the narrow corridors, each step bringing me closer to Gabriel.
We followed her to the visiting room, and I scrunched my nose at the plethora of smells that plagued my nose. Sweat, cheap disinfectant, and something else—something metallic and sharp, like fear itself. The room was small, with a metal table and two chairs bolted to the floor. A thick glass window separated visitors from the inmates, a small hole in the center allowing for conversation.
I sat and lowered my head, trying to calm my racing heart. I heard the door on the other side open, and then I saw him—Gabriel. He looked different, and it wasn’t just the orange jumpsuit. His face was gaunt, his eyes hollow, and his hair slightly disheveled. My heart ached to see him like this, but I knew I had to stay strong. He didn’t need my pity; he needed my help. Gabriel’s eyes locked onto mine as he approached the glass. There was a storm brewing in those eyes, a mix of anger, hurt, and something else, something I couldn’t quite place. He sat down heavily across from me, his movements stiff, as if every step had been an effort.
The lawyer cleared his throat, flipping open his briefcase. He started going over the legalities, discussing the terms of Gabriel’s arrest, the evidence (or lack thereof), and the possible next steps. I listened, but my attention kept drifting back to Gabriel. He sat there silently, staring at me, barely acknowledging the lawyer’s words. His focus was entirely on me, and it made my skin prickle with discomfort. When the lawyer was done, I asked him to give us a moment alone. He hesitated, but I assured him it would be fine. Reluctantly, he gathered his things and left the room, leaving Gabriel and me alone in the suffocating silence.
Gabriel didn’t speak at first. He just kept staring at me, his expression unreadable. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and harsh.
“Why did it take you so long to come?”
His words were a direct hit, and I flinched at the accusation in his tone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted to come sooner, but things have been… complicated.”
“Complicated,” he repeated, scoffing. “That’s one way to put it. But while you were sorting through your ‘complications,’ I’ve been rotting in here, waiting.”
I looked down, guilt gnawing at me. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
There was an uncomfortable silence between us. The air was thick with tension, and neither of us was willing to break it.
Finally, I gathered the courage to ask, “How are you holding up in here?”
Gabriel’s eyes flashed with anger, and he let out a bitter laugh. “How do you think, Oliver? This place is a hellhole. I’m innocent, and yet they’ve got me in here like some kind of criminal. And now you ask me how I’m holding up?”
I winced at the sharpness in his voice. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, feeling the weight of his anger pressing down on me. “I should’ve been here sooner.”
Gabriel didn’t respond. He just stared at me, his expression softening slightly as if he could see the turmoil inside me. For a moment, I thought he might say something else, something that would bridge the gap between us, but instead, he just shook his head and looked away.
Knowing I had to tell him the truth, I leaned in closer to the glass. “Gabriel, there’s something you need to know.” He turned back to me, his gaze sharp and questioning. “Samantha’s father… he’s the one responsible for her death. This whole thing—it’s all part of his plan.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened in shock, and he leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”
I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “He wants to perform a ritual—a blood ritual—that would allow him to share in the wealth of the river goddess. He thinks if I agree to it, he’ll let you out. He’s using Samantha’s death as leverage to force me into it.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened. “That bastard…” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching. “And you’re considering it?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to find another way to get you out. I’m not going to let him control us like this.”
Gabriel’s eyes searched mine as if trying to gauge how serious I was. “Oliver, listen to me,” he said, his voice urgent. “Don’t go through with it. Don’t let him manipulate you. Whatever you do, don’t give in to his demands.”
“I won’t,” I assured him, my voice firm. “But I need you to trust me, okay? I’m going to get you out of here. You’ll be released on the day the ritual is supposed to take place. I’ve already started putting things in motion.”
Gabriel stared at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Just promise me one thing,” he said, his voice softer now. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“I promise,” I said, trying to force a smile, though it felt hollow. I knew what I had to do, but I couldn’t help feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. The stakes were higher than ever, and I couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
The silence between us stretched on, neither of us knowing what to say. Finally, Gabriel broke the silence. “I don’t want you to go through this alone. Whatever happens, I’m here for you.”
His words, despite the circumstances, brought a flicker of warmth to my chest. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “But for now, you just need to focus on getting through this. Leave the rest to me.”
Gabriel nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. There was a mix of emotions in his gaze; fear, anger, determination, but most of all, there was trust. He was placing his fate in my hands, and I couldn’t let him down.
I stood up, signaling that it was time for me to leave. “I’ll be back soon,” I promised, though the words felt inadequate.
Gabriel just watched as I turned and walked towards the door, each step feeling heavier than the last.
As I reached the door, I glanced back one last time. Gabriel was still sitting there, his eyes following me with a mixture of hope and despair. I wanted to say something, anything, to reassure him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just nodded, then turned and left the room