Chapter 8 #4
“Let’s go, Mother,” Gideon said tightly, his arm lowering to his side.
“Eva’s already headed down to the garage.
And you... I’m going to have time for you very soon, Boudreaux.
And you’re going to explain how and why you’ve infiltrated my family to the extent that I’m finding you in my sister’s apartment alone with my mother. ”
“He’s cat sitting,” Elizabeth explained as she rounded the sofa. “I’m trespassing.”
Gideon stared at her, unblinking. “You have no idea who this man is.”
“I’ve been hearing that I don’t know who my ex-husband is, either. I don’t care. I just want to see my daughter. You can have a pissing match later.”
Her son’s brow arched as she moved toward him. “You can’t believe anything he says about Chris. They met for the first time a few days ago.”
“We all have our secrets,” she rejoined.
“But you’ll pick and choose which ones to believe?” he countered icily.
Elizabeth paused in front of him and returned his cold stare—her son didn’t get that expression from his father. Pretending it didn’t hurt her deeply was a skill she’d had to learn. Even now, it wounded her. They’d been estranged longer than not.
“How’s Ireland?” Ronan’s calm question cut through the sudden tension.
Still looking at Elizabeth, Gideon visibly collected himself and spoke directly to her. “I’m told she’s battered, but not critically injured. She’ll be evaluated more thoroughly at the hospital.”
“Let’s get to her.” Elizabeth resumed walking out of the front door into the vestibule.
“Which hospital?” Ronan asked.
“You’ll come with us,” Elizabeth reiterated over her shoulder.
“No, he won’t,” Gideon vetoed, his tone flat and final.
“Ireland will choose who she wants to see.” Elizabeth faced both of them. “Neither of you will be making that decision for her, especially now, when she needs all the support she can get.”
“You’re assuming he’ll be helpful, not harmful,” Gideon argued curtly. “That goes against the very reason he’s in New York at all.”
“I’m standing right here,” Ronan noted drily. “And I’m perfectly capable of getting myself around.”
Gideon looked at him, his gaze narrowing. “On second thought… Grab your shit and make it quick.”
“Just tell me where she is. I’ll make my own arrangements.”
“If you want to see Ireland, you’ll do it with me nearby.” Gideon bared his teeth in a pointed smile.
Ronan glanced at Elizabeth, who shot him a challenging look. “Allons,” he said with a nod. “I’m ready.”
She walked up to the wall between the front door and the elevator and gently pushed it. It swung open silently on its massive hidden hinges, and she stepped through the wide opening into the penthouse’s vestibule. She wondered if Ronan was surprised at how closely connected the two units were.
The penthouse elevator took them straight down to the parking garage, but the short ride in the relatively small car heightened their shared impatience.
Each man stood in a corner, flanking her.
In the reflective surface of the doors, both were stone-faced, their hands shoved into their pants’ pockets.
She knew none of them would fully relax until they saw Ireland with their own eyes.
The elevator doors opened to the subterranean garage, where Eva stood with her father by the rear door of the Bentayga. At the sight of Ronan, Victor’s expression didn’t change, but Eva’s mouth remained open for a few seconds too long.
Like Gideon, she was dressed casually, sporting one of his white dress shirts knotted at the waist and loose-legged jeans.
“I’ll drive,” Gideon said, lengthening his stride to pass Elizabeth. He caught the fob Victor tossed him and stopped in front of his wife, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Ride in the back with my mother. Boudreaux, you’re up front with me.”
“I’ll lead in the Benz.” Victor headed toward the valet stand.
Eva shot a narrow-eyed glare at Ronan. “Why is he here?”
“He’s with me,” Elizabeth answered before her son could, walking around the rear of the vehicle to the other side.
“You can’t trust him.” Eva climbed into the backseat.
Settling in beside her daughter-in-law, Elizabeth gave her a cursory glance. “And you’ve spent enough time with him to know that?”
“I know he’s a murdering felon,” Eva muttered, clearly exasperated.
Elizabeth’s startled gaze flew to Ronan as he folded into the front passenger seat.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Ireland knows a hell of a lot more about my sordid past than these two. As with anything, context is everything.”
An unfamiliar uneasiness settled in the bottom of Elizabeth’s empty stomach. She trusted her intuition—until she remembered how it had failed her.
Eva snorted and leaned forward, talking around the headrest. “I saw you with Ireland during your picnic in Central Park. I saw your face when she wasn't paying attention. For a guy cuddling one of the most beautiful women in the world, you looked like you wanted to be anywhere else.”
Ronan flipped the sun visor down and slid open the mirror to meet her gaze in the reflection. “Or maybe that look was a man realizing that the one woman he shouldn’t want is the only one he does.”
“You’re here to hurt a parent we all love, so you’re bad news either way.” She slid back into her seat and fastened her seatbelt.
“You’re looking in the wrong direction for the victim,” he drawled.
Shooting him a hard look, Gideon turned on the music. The car filled with the throaty voice of Tina Turner, effectively ending any further conversation.
One of the attendants waved an all-clear from the street, and when Victor took off in the Benz, Gideon followed him up the ramp to the ground level above.
The sky was a moody gray, the clouds dark silhouettes, the moon a hazy patch of muted light. A man in a robe walked a tiny terrier along the sidewalk. On the other side of the street, a woman wearing her date’s blazer over her dress was telling him something that made him laugh out loud.
It was the first time Elizabeth had seen anything close to normal life in two days. It felt more like fantasy than reality.
Camera flashes went off like strobe lights, blinding her as they pulled into the street.