Reflected in You (Crossfire 2)

He wanted two and a half million dollars."

There was a sudden roaring in my ears.

"What?" "He wanted money," she said stiffly.

"A lot of it."

"Why the hell would he think he'd get any?" "He has - had - photos, Eva."

Her lower lip began to quiver.

"And video.

Of you."

"Oh my God."

I set my coffee aside with shaking hands and bent over, putting my head between my knees.

"Oh God, I'm going to be sick."

And Gideon had seen Nathan - he'd confessed as much when he answered the detectives' questions.

If he'd seen the pictures .

been disgusted by them .

it would explain why he cut me off.

Why he'd been so tormented when he came to my bed.

He might still want me, but he might not be able to live with the images now filling his head.

It has to be this way, he'd said.

A horrible sound escaped me.

I couldn't even begin to imagine what Nathan might have captured.

I didn't want to.

No wonder Gideon couldn't stand to look at me.

When he'd made love to me the last time, it had been in utter darkness, where he could hear me and smell me and feel me - but not see me.

I stifled a scream of pain by biting my forearm.

"Baby, no!" My mother sank to her knees in front of me, urging me gently off the chair and onto the floor where she could rock me.

"Shh.

It's over.

He's dead."

I curled into her lap, sobbing, realizing it truly was over - I'd lost Gideon.

He would hate himself for turning away from me, but I understood why he might not be able to stop himself.

If looking at me now reminded him of his own brutal past, how could he stand it? How could I? My mother's hand stroked over my hair.

I felt her crying, too.

"Shh," she hushed me, her voice shaking.

"Shh, baby.

I've got you.

I'll take care of you."

Eventually there were no more tears left to cry.

I was empty, but with that emptiness came new clarity.

I couldn't change what had happened, but I could do what was necessary to make sure that no one I loved suffered for it.

I sat up and wiped at my eyes.

"You shouldn't do that," my mother scolded.

"Rubbing at your eyes like that will give you wrinkles."

For some reason, I found her concern for my future crow's-feet hysterical.

I tried to hold it in, but a snorted laugh broke free.

"Eva Lauren!" I thought her indignation was funny, too.

I laughed some more, and once I started, I couldn't stop.

I laughed until my sides hurt and I fell over."Oh, stop it!" She shoved at my shoulder.

"It's not funny."

I laughed until I managed to squeeze out a few more tears.

"Eva, really!" But she was starting to smile.

I laughed until I wasn't laughing so much as sobbing again, dry and silent.

I heard my mother giggling, and that somehow blended perfectly with my racking pain.

I couldn't explain it, but as horrible and hopeless as I felt, my mother's presence - complete with all her little quirks and admonitions that drove me insane - was just what I needed.

With my hands on my cramping stomach, I took a deep cleansing breath.

"Did he arrange it?" I asked softly.

Her smiled faded.

"Who? Richard? Arrange what? The money? Oh ."

I waited.

"No!" she protested.

"He wouldn't.

His mind doesn't work that way."

"Okay.

I just had to know."

I couldn't see Stanton ordering a hit, either.

But Gideon .

I knew from his nightmares that his desire for vengeance was colored by violence.

And I'd seen him fight Brett.

The memory was seared in my mind.

Gideon was capable, and with his history -  I took a deep breath, then blew it out.

"How much do the police know?" "Everything."

Her eyes were soft and wet with guilt.

"The seal on Nathan's records was broken when he died."

"And how did he die?" "They didn't say."

"I suppose it's not important.

We have a motive."

I ran my hand through my hair.

"It probably doesn't matter that we didn't personally have the opportunity.

Your time is accounted for, isn't it? And Stanton's?" "Yes.

And yours, too?" "Yes."

But I didn't know about Gideon's.

Not that it mattered.

No one would expect men like Gideon and Stanton to get their hands dirty cleaning up a mess like Nathan.

We had more than one motive - the blackmail and revenge for what he'd done to me - and means, and means gave us the opportunity.

* * *

I brushed my hair again and splashed water on my face, all the while thinking of how I was going to get my mom out of my apartment undetected.

When I found her digging through the closet in my bedroom - concerned as always about my style and appearance  - I knew what to do.

"Remember that skirt I picked up at Macy's?" I asked her.

"The green one?" "Oh, yes.

Very pretty."

"I haven't been able to wear it, because I can't think of anything I have to go with it.

Can you help me find something?" "Eva," she said, exasperated.

"You should've established a personal style by now - and it shouldn't be sweats!" "Help me out, Mom.

I'll be right back."

I took my coffee mug with me to have a purpose for leaving her.

"Don't go anywhere."

"Where would I go?" she replied, her voice muffled because she'd stepped deeper into my walk-in closet.

I did a quick check of the living room and kitchen.

My dad was nowhere to be seen and his bedroom door was closed, as was Cary's.

I hurried back into my room.

"How's this?" she asked, holding up a champagne-hued silk blouse.

The combination was gorgeous and classy.

"I love it! You rock! Thank you.

But I'm sure you have to go now, right? I don't want to hold you up."

My mom frowned at me.

"I'm not in a hurry."

"What about Stanton? This has got to be weighing on his mind.

And it's a Saturday - he always reserves his weekends for you.

He needs to have the time with you."

And God, did I feel awful for his stress.

Stanton had spent a great deal of his time and money on issues pertaining to me and Nathan over the four years he'd been married to my mother.

It was too much to ask of anyone, but he'd come through for us.

For the rest of my life, I would owe him for loving my mother so much.

"This is weighing on your mind, too," she argued.

"I want to be here for you, Eva.

I want to support you."

My throat tightened, understanding that she was trying to make amends for what had happened to me because she was unable to forgive herself.

"It's okay," I said hoarsely.

"I'll be okay.

And honestly, I'd feel terrible keeping you away from Stanton after all he's done for us.

You're his reward, his little piece of heaven at the end of an endless workweek."

Her lips curved in an enchanting smile.

"What a lovely thing to say."

Yes, I'd thought so, too, the times Gideon had said similar things to me.

It seemed impossible that only a week before, we'd been at the beach house, madly in love and taking firm, sure steps forward in our relationship.

But now that relationship was broken, and now I knew why.

I was angry and hurt that Gideon had kept something as monumental as Nathan being in New York hidden from me.

I was furious that he hadn't talked to me about what he was thinking and feeling.

But I understood, too.

He was a man who'd avoided talking about anything personal for years and years, and we hadn't been together long enough for that lifetime habit to change.

I couldn't blame him for being who he was, just as I couldn't blame him for deciding that he couldn't live with what I was.

With a sigh, I went to my mom and hugged her.

"Having you here .

it's what I needed, Mama.

Crying and laughing and just sitting with you.

Nothing could be more perfect than that.

Thank you."

"Really?" She hugged me tightly, feeling so small and delicate in my arms, even though we were the same size and her heels made her taller.

"I thought you were going crazy."

I pulled back and smiled.

"I think I did for a little bit, but you brought me back.

And Stanton is a good man.

I'm grateful for all he's done for us.

Please tell him I said so."

Linking my arm with hers, I grabbed her clutch from my bed and led her to the front door.

She hugged me again, her hands stroking up and down my back.

"Call me tonight and tomorrow.

I want to make sure you're doing okay."

"All right."

She studied me.

"And let's plan on a spa day next week.

If the doctor doesn't approve of Cary going, we'll have the technicians come here.

I think we could all use a little pampering and polish right now."

"That's a really nice way of saying I look like shit."

We were both rough around the edges, although she hid it much better than I did.

Nathan was still hanging over us like a dark cloud, still capable of ruining lives and destroying our peace.

But we'd pretend that we were better off than we were.

That was just the way we did things.

"But you're right - it'll be good for us and it'll make Cary feel a whole lot better, even if he can only get a mani and pedi."

"I'll make the arrangements.

I can't wait!" My mother flashed her signature megawatt smile -   - which is what my dad was hit with when I opened the front door.

He stood on the threshold with Cary's keys in his hand, having been caught just about to slide one into the lock.

He was dressed in running shorts and athletic shoes, his sweat-soaked shirt tossed carelessly over his shoulder.

Still breathing a little quickly and glistening with sweat over tanned skin and rippling muscles, Victor Reyes was one hot hunk of a man.

And he was staring at my mom in a way that was totally indecent.

Tearing my gaze away from my seriously smokin' dad to look at my glamorous mother, I was shocked to see her looking at my father the same way he was looking at her.

Of all the times to realize my parents were in love with each other.

Well, I'd suspected my dad was heartbroken over my mom, but I thought she'd been embarrassed about him, as if he were a big mistake and error in judgment in her past.

"Monica."

My dad's voice was lower and deeper than I'd ever heard it, and more obviously flavored with an accent.

"Victor."

My mom was breathless.

"What are you doing here?" One of his brows rose.

"Visiting our daughter."

"And now Mom has to go," I prodded, torn between the novelty of seeing my parents together and a loyalty to Stanton, who was exactly what my mother needed.

"I'll call you later, Mom."

My dad didn't move for a moment, his gaze sliding down the length of my mom from head to toe, then gliding back up again.

Then he took a deep breath and stepped aside.