“And there are additional dangers that come just from being a beautiful woman,” she rushed on. “You’re connected to powerful men. That doesn’t always make you safer—”
“Where are they, Mom?”
She huffed. “You don’t have to take that tone with me. I was only trying—”
“Maybe you should go,” I cut in coldly, the chill I felt on the inside leaching out through my voice.
“Your Rolex,” she snapped, and it was like a slap to my face.
I staggered back a step, my right hand instinctively covering the watch on my left wrist, a treasured graduation gift from Stanton and my mother. I’d had the silly sentimental idea of passing it on to my daughter, should I be lucky enough to have one.
“Are you shitting me?” My fingers clawed at the clasp and the watch fell to the carpet with a muffled thud. It hadn’t been a gift at all. It’d been a shackle on my wrist. “You’ve seriously crossed the line!”
She flushed. “Eva, you’re overreacting. It’s not—”
“Overreacting? Ha! My God, that’s laughable. Really.” I shoved two pinched-together fingers in her face. “I’m this close to calling the police. And I’ve half a mind to sue you for invasion of privacy.”
“I’m your mother!” Her voice trailed off, took on a note of pleading. “It’s my job to look after you.”
“I’m a twenty-four-year-old adult,” I said coldly. “By law, I can look after myself.”
“Eva Lauren—”
“Don’t.” I lifted my hands, then dropped them. “Just don’t. I’m going to leave now, because I’m so pissed off I can’t even look at you. And I don’t want to hear from you, unless it’s with a sincere apology. Until you admit you’re wrong, I can’t trust you not to do it again.”
I walked to the kitchen and grabbed my purse, my gaze meeting Cary’s just as he was coming out with a tray of half-filled wineglasses. “I’ll be back later.”
“You can’t just walk out like this!” my mother cried, clearly on the verge of one of her emotional fits. I couldn’t deal with it. Not then.
“Watch me,” I muttered under my breath.
My goddamned Rolex. Just thinking of it hurt like hell, because the gift had meant so much to me. Now, it meant nothing at all.
“Let her go, Monica,” Cary said, his voice low and soothing. He knew how to deal with hysteria better than anyone. It was crappy sticking him with my mom, but I had to go. If I went to my room, she would just cry and plead at my door until I felt sick. I hated seeing her like that, hated causing her to feel that way.
Exiting my apartment, I went to Gideon’s next door, rushing to get inside before the tears overwhelmed me or my mother came after me. There was nowhere else for me to go. I couldn’t go out in public shell-shocked and crying. My mother wasn’t the only one who had me under surveillance. There was also the possibility of the police, Deanna Johnson, and maybe even some paparazzi.
I got as far as Gideon’s couch, sprawling across the cushions and allowing the tears to flow.
7
“ANGEL.”
Gideon’s voice and the feel of his hands on me pulled me from sleep. I mumbled a protest as he shifted me onto my side, and then the heat of his body was warming my back. One of his muscular arms wrapped around my waist, tucking me close.
Spooned with him, the biceps of his other arm hard beneath my cheek, I slid back into unconsciousness.
WHEN I woke again, it felt like days later. I lay on the couch with my eyes closed for long minutes, soaking in the warmth of Gideon’s powerful body and breathing air that smelled of him. After a while, I decided that sleeping longer would only throw off my body clock even more. We’d had a lot of late nights and early mornings since we had gotten back together, and they were taking their toll.
“You’ve been crying,” he murmured, burying his face in my hair. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I wrapped my arms over his, snuggling into him. I told him about the watch. “Maybe I overreacted,” I finished. “I was tired, which makes me irritable. But God … it hurt like hell. It totally ruined a gift that meant a lot to me, you know?”
“I can imagine.” His fingers drew gentle circles across my stomach, caressing me through the silk of my shirt. “I’m sorry.”
I looked toward the windows and saw that night had fallen. “What time is it?”
“A little after eight.”