He stared into his glass and then took a long drink, nearly downing the contents in a single swallow. “I’ve left your mother.”
I took a quick, deep breath, grasping that the reason for his visit had nothing to do with work. “Ireland told me you two had a fight.”
“Yeah. I hate that Ireland had to hear it.” He looked at me, and I saw the knowledge in his eyes. The horror. “I didn’t know, Gideon. I swear to God, I didn’t know.”
My heart jerked in my chest, then began to pound. My mouth went dry.
“I, uh, went to see Terrence Lucas.” Chris’s voice grew hoarse. “Barged into his office. He denied it, the lying son of a bitch, but I could see it on his face.”
The brandy sloshed in my glass. I set it down carefully, feeling the floor shift under my feet. Eva had confronted Lucas, but Chris … ?
“I decked him, knocked him out cold, but God … I wanted to take one of those awards on his shelves and bash his head in.”
“Stop.” The word broke from my throat like slivers of glass.
“And the asshole who did … That asshole is dead. I can’t get to him. Goddamn it.” Chris dropped the tumbler onto the granite with a thud, but it was the sob that tore out of him that nearly shattered me. “Hell, Gideon. It was my job to protect you. And I failed.”
“Stop!” I pushed off the counter, my hands clenching. “Don’t fucking look at me like that!”
He trembled visibly, but didn’t back down. “I had to tell you—”
His wrinkled dress shirt was in my fists, his feet dangling above the floor. “Stop talking. Now!”
Tears slipped down his face. “I love you like my own. Always have.”
I shoved him away. Turned my back to him when he stumbled and hit the wall. I left, crossing the living room without seeing it.
“I’m not expecting your forgiveness,” he called after me, tears clogging his words. “I don’t deserve it. But you need to hear that I would’ve ripped him apart with my bare hands if I’d known.”
I rounded on him, feeling the sickness clawing up from my gut and burning my throat. “What the fuck do you want?”
Chris pulled his shoulders back. He faced me with reddened eyes and wet cheeks, shaking but too stupid to run. “I want you to know that you’re not alone.”
Alone. Yes. Far away from the pity and guilt and pain staring out at me through his tears. “Get out.”
Nodding, he headed toward the foyer. I stood immobile, my chest heaving, my eyes burning. Words backed up in my throat; violence pounded in the painful clench of my fists.
He stopped before he left the room, facing me. “I’m glad you told Eva.”
“Don’t talk about her.” I couldn’t bear to even think of her. Not now, when I was so close to losing it.
He left.
The weight of the day crashed onto my shoulders, dropping me to my knees.
I broke.
14
I WAS DREAMING of a private beach and naked Gideon when I was jerked awake by the sound of my phone ringing. Rolling to my side, I thrust my arm out and smacked around on the top of my nightstand, trying to find my smartphone in the dark. My fingers brushed against the familiar shape and I grabbed it, sitting up.
Ireland’s face lit up my screen. I frowned and glanced at the space beside me in the bed. Gideon wasn’t home. Of course, he could’ve found me sleeping and gone next door to go to bed …
“Hello?” I answered, noting that the time on the cable box said it was after eleven o’clock.
“Eva. It’s Chris Vidal. I’m sorry to call so late, but I’m worried about Gideon. Is he all right?”
My stomach dropped. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with Gideon?”
There was a pause. “You haven’t talked to him tonight?”
I slid out of bed and turned on the lamp. “No. I fell asleep. What’s going on?”
He cursed with an intensity that made the hairs rise on my arms. “I met with him earlier about … the things you told me. He didn’t take it well.”