“Christopher doesn’t, I’m sure.” I leaned back against the counter, my jaw set. Apparently, Brett Kline had some serious feelings for Eva after all. I wasn’t okay with that. Not even close.
“Your brother will get over it.”
I doubted that, but it would do no good to say so.
But Chris read what I didn’t say and gave a nod. “I know the video has caused stress for you and Eva. I should’ve been paying more attention.”
“I appreciate you being flexible about it.”
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 ass**le who did . . . That ass**le 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 f**king 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 f**k 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