Book 5 - Page 134 (1/2)

“Yes. Everything,” he said tightly. “It’s all f.u.c.ked up. I don’t know what to do.”

“No. Wrong inside me.”

“Eva. How can you say that? There’s nothing wrong with you.” He cupped my face again, brought it around.

“You nicked yourself.” I touched the little spot of dried blood on his jaw. “You never do that, either.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He wrapped himself around me. “I don’t know what to do,” he said again. “I don’t know what to do.”

Gideon kept my hand in his as we returned to the living room.

My father looked over from where he sat on the couch, then stood. Worn jeans. A faded UCSD T-s.h.i.+rt. The shadow of stubble on his strong square jaw.

Gideon had shaved. Why hadn’t I processed that when I noticed the cut from the razor? Why hadn’t I noticed that he’d changed out of his tux?

Some things came to me with strange clarity. Others were lost in the fog in my mind.

The detectives were gone. Cary was curled up against the armrest of the couch, fast asleep, his mouth hanging partway open. I could hear him snoring softly.

“We can step into my office,” Gideon said, releasing my hand to gesture down the hallway.

With a curt nod, my dad rounded the coffee table. “Lead the way.”

Gideon started walking. I fell into step behind him.

“Eva.” My dad’s voice stopped me and I turned around. “I need to speak to Cross alone.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got things to say that you don’t need to hear.”

I shook my head slowly. “No.”

He made a frustrated noise. “We’re not arguing about this.”

“Dad, I’m not a child. Anything you have to say to my husband has something to do with me and I think I should be involved.”

“I have no objection,” Gideon said, returning to my side.

My father’s jaw tensed, his gaze darting back and forth between us. “Fine.”