Dancing with Deception (28 page)

She tried to get her voice to work—to tell them she was fine but it, came out on a sob. Gideon crushed her to his chest, tangling his hand in her hair.

“Shh, it’s over, baby.”

He rocked her where they
sat
while chaos ensued around them. The familiar smell of the sea washed over her, comforting her more than his words. She reached up to find his mouth and he gave it to her. She poured herself into the kiss as if it were a lifeline.

He quieted her again, picked her up, and carried her outside
. She didn’t look at the bodies lying on the ground, or at the dozens of officers surveying the scene. There was even a news crew shining a light in her face. Gideon growled at them and dissuaded them of the notion.

“Sit down here and let them check you out.”

She didn’t argue. She sank down on the bumper of the ambulance and sat still while a small lady flashed a light into her eyes. She didn’t budge when the paramedic wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm. She couldn’t stop a flinch when it squeezed her
,
but Gideon moved right in to soothe.

“She’s shocky and will have one hell of a shiner, but other than that everything looks okay. Go home, take a sleeping pill.”

“Thank you,” Gideon murmured. “Are you all right?”

She nodded
and took a deep breath. The fresh sea air was a welcoming relief
. “Is your family okay? They were going to burn your house.”

“Yeah. Zoey let up a ruckus and woke us all up in time.” His warm hand reached out and cupped her chin before his thumb slid over her cheek. “You knew him.”

She nodded. “He was my father’s partner when I was little.”

Rebecca glanced up and saw that
Charles and Colin were dodging the press and heading straight for her. She stood on wobbly legs and was wrapped in a hug so tight, it almost cut off her air.

“Are you okay?” Charles voice was rough. He pulled her back without releasing her to look her over. “You weren’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“You did a hell of a job, sis.” Colin flipped her hair. “That guy looks like he just went ten rounds with a champ.”

“He did,” was Charles’s dry reply.

“The police need to talk to us. Rebecca can stay put, I’ll tell the officer to talk to her here.” Colin ran his hand over her tangling mass of hair.

“I’ll wait here.”

“No,” Rebecca murmured to Gideon as the others left. “They’ll want to talk to me privately. I’ll be fine.”

He stared at her for a minute, his gaze deep and fathomless. Then he kissed her cheek, then her mouth. “I’ll come back with a shirt for you to wear. I love you.”

Before she could speak again, he walked away in the direction where his family went. Rebecca glanced down at her bloody shirt and shivered. Most of it was Blade’s; some of it was the guard who’d been shot behind her. Tears blurred her vision and she ruthlessly gathered herself back together.

By the time the detective came over to question her, she was calm. She told him everything she knew, gave him her contact information, and when he offered to give her a ride, she asked him to take her to a hotel.

She left before Gideon could return to the ambulance. It was cleaner that way.

            Chapter Seventeen

The smell of cookies had never made her ache before. Rebecca pulled the first batch of chocolate chip out of the oven and one by one, placed them on the cooling rack. The aromas coming from Brittany’s apartment reminded her of the Avery kitchen. Her eyes watered as she slid another sheet of dough on the wire rack in the oven and set the timer.

She grabbed her bottle of water from the counter and took a slug, though it had turned warm. For the most part, she’d succeeded at keeping Gideon and his family off her mind, but it snuck up on her at the oddest times. She felt alone when she took her run every morning. She felt empty when she munched on carrot sticks for lunch. She felt lost when Brittany wanted to talk about the drummer instead of the things Jess always talked about.

She couldn’t keep the dreams away. Smoky eyes haunted her every night. She could hear Gideon’s voice whispering in her ear and feel his hardness against her back as she slept—alone. Every day she missed him a little more.

The timer on the oven dinged, bringing her out of her stupor.

She was glad Rose had taught her to bake, she thought, taking the sheet out of the oven. She was grateful to be able to take a little piece of the Avery family with her. She’d had a taste of what being a part of a family was like and she loved it. But she didn’t deserve it.

Could she ever forgive herself for putting them at risk that way? No. It was unforgivable. She’d acted just like her father and that disgusted her. She’d jumped foolishly into a stranger’s boat, then handed all her problems to him. He had handled them while she’d sat back and waited.

Hardly that, she acknowledged as she recalled the hours before seeing Blade—the worry and the fear. She’d faced her problems, or some of them, but the end result was the same. She’d risked the Avery’s lives. They could have died in the fire Roman had ordered his men to set.

She hoped she could forgive herself one day.

“Are you trying to torture me?” Brittany bounced into the kitchen and eyed a cookie. “I’m almost desperate enough to eat one.”

“Go ahead.”

“You want Niko to kill me? You’re already prima, what else do you want?” She took the biggest cookie on the rack and bit in with a moan. “I hate you.”

“Stop being so dramatic. It’s only half a day’s worth of calories.” Rebecca chose a small one and brought it to her lips.

Brittany groaned again. “Where’d you learn to bake so well?”

Here it is again
. “Gideon’s mother taught me.” They both knew the only reason Lilah would enter a kitchen would be to fetch the telephone. “I can cook some things, too.”

“Becca?”

Rebecca looked up and saw Brittany’s solemn expression. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you just call him?”

From the little she’d been able to tell, Rebecca knew by the lack of questions that Brittany could read between the lines. She must have been wearing the pieces of her heart on her sleeve. She’d never seen such pity come from her friend.

“I can’t,” Rebecca said, tossing the rest of her cookie in the trash. “I just can’t.”

Brittany took the milk out of the refrigerator and poured two glasses. “Can’t or won’t?”

“It doesn’t matter. The results are the same.” Since her throat had grown thick, she accepted the glass to wash down the cookie. “I’m not calling him.”

Brittany sipped her drink. Silence hummed throughout the sunny room. Since the mess wasn’t going to clean itself up, Rebecca gathered dishes and ran hot water in the sink. She was surprised when her non-domestic friend started rinsing the dishes she washed.

“What did you bake the cookies for?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m getting a hotel in the next city if they’re going to be here. I can’t be in the same house as a batch of chocolate chip cookies.”

Because she knew Brittany was trying to lighten the mood, she smiled. “I’m going to talk to my mother today.”

The plastic mixing bowl clattered in the sink. “You are?”

Just as shocked by the announcement as her friend, Rebecca stared hard out the window above the sink. She’d baked the cookies only because she needed something to feel closer to Rose. She’d been more of a mother to her than Lilah had ever been. It wasn’t her world and she didn’t belong with Rose—but she needed a mother.

It was that, she knew, that had her deciding to have it out with Lilah. She may be even more angry with her at first, but it was an argument years in the making. “Yes. We need to clear the air. I have to go home sooner or later.”

Again, she was struck at how empty the house looked. She parked her car in the driveway and walked slowly to the door. She didn’t know what to say—couldn’t even imagine what had possessed her to come here in the first place.

She clutched the plate of cookies like a lifeline, knowing they wouldn’t make a difference in how things turned out today. They were a useless prop that—for reasons beyond her comprehension—made her feel better.

She opened the tall, glass door and walked inside. Peals of laughter erupted from the parlor down the hall. Rebecca followed the sound, almost hoping there was someone else in there. She could set the cookies in the kitchen and get while the getting was good.

She firmly dismissed the idea. It was the coward’s way out. Rebecca was many things, but she wasn’t a coward.

It didn’t take long to realize Lilah was on the phone. From her end of the conversation, Rebecca assumed there was a man on the other line. Shrugging, she slipped in the room.

Lilah stopped mid-sentence and they stood for a moment, staring at each other. She’d aged in the weeks since she’d seen her last—at the airport. Her straw-colored hair was pulled back in a severe bun, leaving her face unframed. Despite the heavy make-up, the lines around her eyes were deeper. Mild annoyance flashed in her pale, blue eyes.

“Jeremy, I’ll have to call you back. I have an appointment coming up. Yes,” she laughed gaily. “I’ll see you tonight.” She placed the phone in its cradle and rose from the sofa. “Well, this is surprising.”

“We need to talk. I brought you these.”

Lilah peeked at the plate in her daughter’s hands. “Cookies? You bought cookies?”

Rebecca sat them on a decorative table and took a seat on the high-back chair beside it. “No, I baked them. If you don’t want them, give them to Mary. Please have a seat, Mother. This may take a while.”

Lilah sat. “I have a—”

“A date—I heard.”

“What your problem?” Lilah’s composure cracked, but she recovered quickly enough. “Did your boyfriend finally dump you? I’ll admit that lasted longer than I thought it would.”

She let the insult roll over her. “I left him.”

“I’m shocked,” she said dryly. “Rebecca, darling, you couldn’t have come here for advice on your love life. If you did, I can tell you the only option for you is a middle-class gold digger. You know he’ll stick around.”

“Thanks, but if I need advice on my love life, you’re the last person on this entire planet I would ask.” Stunned by her outburst, Rebecca sat in silence. Lilah’s breathing strained from the couch across from her. Years of hurt outweighed her need for tact.

“
What
is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve never been one to hold on to a relationship. Maybe that’s where I’m your daughter.”

“Again, I’ll ask. What is that supposed to mean?”

Rebecca tugged at the sleeves of her sweater. “It means you’ve set a sorry example of a mother. I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “But it’s true. I need to get this out. You were never there for me when I needed you.
You blamed everything on me when it wasn’t either of our faults.
You were always so angry with me. You still are.”

“Where is this coming from?”

She felt thick tears roll down her cheeks. She grabbed her purse and fumbled out a tissue. “Years of pain, Mother.
Years
.”

Lilah sat stiffly, gawking at her. Rebecca felt like a fool. Did she honestly think she could make her mother understand? Oh, but she had to.

“You failed me.”

Lilah flinched as if she’d been slapped, a gasp wrenching from her throat.

“Both of my parents failed me miserably. I cried myself to sleep more nights than I can count. I used to waste every wish on you and Dad. I wished on stars, on birthday candles. I searched for lucky pennies on the ground. Anything I could do, I did it.”

She scrubbed her face with her palms and took a deep breath. “You always told me I was the reason he wouldn’t stay. Even if it hurt me, I knew it was a lie. Do you know how I knew that?”

Lilah swallowed. “How?”

“Because I did
everything
in my power to keep him here. When he was here, he wanted me around. You never did.”

Rebecca vacated the chair to walk the room. She crushed the tissue in her hand and stared blindly at a pretty, gold vase. “You always went out of your way to remind me what a bother I was to you, a hindrance to your life. Until a few weeks ago, I believed you. Now I know the truth.”

“And what do you suppose that is?”

She heard tears in her mother’s voice and couldn’t bring herself to turn around. “You need me.” Seconds ticked by in silence. “Nothing to say? Are you going to try to deny it?”