Oh, f**k. He knew. My hand shook so badly, I spilled hot coffee on my hand and thigh. I didn’t even feel it; I was so panicked by my father’s anguish. “Dad, I—”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Or Monica. My God … She should’ve said something. Should’ve told me.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I had the right to know!”
Sorrow spread through my chest like acid. My dad—a man whose self-control rivaled Gideon’s—sounded like he was crying.
I set my mug on the coffee table, my breathing fast and shallow. Nathan’s sealed juvenile records had broken open upon his death, exposing the horror of my past to anyone who had the knowledge and means to find it. As a cop, my dad had those means.
“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” I told him, stunned, but trying to hold it together for his sake. My smartphone beeped with an incoming call, but I ignored it. “Before or after.”
“I could’ve been there for you. I could’ve taken care of you.”
“Daddy, you did. Putting me together with Dr. Travis changed my life. I didn’t really start dealing with anything until then. I can’t tell you how much that helped.”
He groaned, and it was a low sound of torment. “I should’ve fought your mother for you. You should’ve been with me.”
“Oh, God.” My stomach cramped. “You can’t blame Mom. She didn’t know what was happening for a long time. And when she did find out, she did everything—”
“She didn’t tell me!” he shouted, making me jump. “She should’ve f**king told me. And how could she not know? There must’ve been signs … How could she not see them? Jesus. I saw them when you came to California.”
I sobbed, unable to contain my anguish. “I begged her not to tell you. I made her promise.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make, Eva. You were a child. She knew better.”
“I’m sorry!” I cried. The insistent, relentless beeping of an incoming call pushed me over the edge. “I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want Nathan to hurt anyone else I loved.”
“I’m coming to see you,” he said, with a sudden burst of calm. “I’m getting the next flight out. I’ll call you when I land.”
“Dad—”
“I love you, sweetheart. You’re everything.”
He hung up. Shattered, I sat there in a daze. I knew the knowledge of what had been done to me would eat my father alive, but I didn’t know how to combat that darkness.
My phone started vibrating in my hand and I just stared down at the screen, seeing my mother’s name and unable to think of what to do.
Standing on unsteady feet, I dropped my cell on the low table as if it had burned me. I couldn’t talk to her then. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted Gideon.
I stumbled down the hallway, my shoulder sliding along the wall. I heard Gideon’s voice as I neared his office and my tears came faster, my steps quickening.
“I appreciate that you thought of me, but no,” he said in a low, firm voice that was different from the one I’d heard him using before. It was gentler, more intimate. “Of course we’re friends. You know why … I can’t give you what you want from me.”
I rounded the corner into his office and saw him at his desk, his head down as he listened.
“Stop,” he said icily. “This isn’t the tack you want to take with me, Corinne.”
“Gideon,” I whispered, my hand gripping the doorjamb with white-knuckled force.
He glanced up, then straightened abruptly, surging to his feet. The scowl on his face fled.
“I have to go,” he said, pulling the earpiece from his ear and dropping it on the desk as he rounded it. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
He caught me as I rushed into him, needing him. Relief flooded me as he pulled me close and held me tight.
“My dad found out.” I pressed my face to his chest, my mind filled with echoes of my father’s pain. “He knows.”
Gideon swung me up in his arms, cradling me. His phone started ringing. Cursing under his breath, he walked out of the room.
In the hallway, I could hear my phone rattling on the coffee table. The irritating sound of two phones going off simultaneously ratcheted up my anxiety.