Free Gabriel by Naima Simone Page A

drawn to the plea for rescue she doubted Gabriel was aware shone
     so desperately in his gaze. She reached out for him, hesitating, as if approaching
     a wounded animal in a trap. Fear of his rejection knotted her stomach, as she tentatively
     touched the crown of his head. His thick, roughened-silk hair grazed her fingertips
     as she slid down the wall, sinking down beside him.
    He stiffened as her thigh pressed to his, and for a moment, she believed he would
     push her away. Wondered if he would refuse the comfort she yearned so badly to give
     him. The need to ease the pain glistening in his eyes, creasing the lean lines of
     his face and straightening the full curves of his lips throbbed inside her like a
     physical ache. In the past, Gabriel had grieved alone behind a shut door, never allowing
     her to see him, to touch him. Her breath snagged in her throat and leaked free like
     a popped balloon when the tension bled from his body and he sagged against her, allowing
     her to brace the weight of his pain and sorrow.
    She didn’t speak; she didn’t ask questions. She just rested her head on his shoulder,
     looped an arm through his, and rested her other palm over his heart.
    Just held him.
    His chest rose and fell on harsh drags of air that whistled in and out between his
     lips. A hard shudder racked his frame, and the tremor quaked through her. She tightened
     her hold on his arm, curled her fingers into his shirt.
    When the cry finally erupted, it ripped from him in a raw, savage fury. His agony
     reverberated through the room, and she wondered his chest wasn’t torn open with the
     force of it.
    He ground his chin into his collarbone, hiding his face from her as the ragged sobs
     continued to burst forth. Then, hard, frantic hands were gripping her arms, dragging
     her across his lap, and clutching her close. Scalding-hot tears bathed her neck and
     shoulder. She swallowed her own cries, even though fissures zigzagged over her heart.
     She wound her arms around his head, cradling him, pressing her lips to his damp forehead
     and the top of his head.
    How long they sat there, she didn’t know.
    It didn’t matter. She would’ve remained there on that floor holding him until the
     sun crept over the horizon if she could offer some small measure of peace. He wouldn’t
     be alone tonight.
    Not on her watch.
    …
    The crisp fall morning air, tart with the briny tang of the Mystic River, brushed
     over Leah’s face as she jogged down the staircase leading from Gabriel’s condominium
     and strode along the sidewalk toward her car. At a quarter to nine, tourists already
     strolled along the river, headed toward the historical Navy Yard, and enjoyed the
     circular paths in Paul Revere Park. She loved the waterfront with its rich maritime
     history. The steel battleships of olden times rose like gray sentinels over sleek,
     elegant sailboats that bobbed in the harbor. Old and new, side-by-side. It was a beautiful
     neighborhood and a brilliant morning, but Leah would trade its loveliness in a nanosecond
     still to be holed up in a Spartan condo, curled around a sleeping Gabriel in the dim
     coolness of his bedroom.
    After reaching her car, she slipped behind the steering wheel, and twisted the key
     in the ignition.
    “I’m so tired .”
    Gabriel’s tormented whisper from the night before ricocheted in her head. The three
     words had contained so much pain, so much weariness. As if, after two years of fighting
     to come back from the tragedy that had ripped his life apart, he’d given up. As if
     he was finally surrendering to the shadows of loss and despair.
    She blinked. Hard. Don’t cry, damn it. What have tears ever solved? Not a damn thing. They hadn’t saved her mother or penetrated her father’s grief.
     They hadn’t brought Richard back.
    She absently rubbed her arm and shoulder. Hours had passed, yet the hot splash of
     Gabriel’s tears still seared her skin. He’d cried in her embrace until