Day, Sylvia - Entwined with You - A Crossfire Novel (Crossfire Book 3)

“Ah. Sometimes we parents do that when we’re worried about our babies.”

“ You’ve never done that,” I pointed out.

“I haven’t done it yet ,” he qualified. “That doesn’t mean I won’t, if I’m worried enough. I just hope I could convince you to forgive me.”

“Well, I’m on my way to Mom’s now. Let’s see how convincing she can be. It would help if she’d admit she’s wrong.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Ha! Right?” I sighed. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Is everything all right, sweetheart?”

I closed my eyes. Cop instincts plus daddy instincts meant I rarely got anything by Victor Reyes. “Yep. It’s just that I’m almost to Mom’s now. I’ll let you know how it goes. Oh, and my boss might be getting engaged. Anyway, I have stuff to tell you.”

“I may have to stop by the station in the morning, but you can reach me on my cell no matter what. I love you.”

I felt a sudden surge of homesickness. As much as I loved New York and my new life, I missed my dad a lot. “I love you, too, Daddy. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Killing the call, I looked for my wristwatch, and its absence reminded me of the confrontation ahead. I was upset with my mother about the past, but was most concerned with the future. She’d hovered over me for so long because of Nathan, I wasn’t sure she knew any other way to behave.

“Hey.” I leaned forward, needing to clarify something that was bothering me. “That day when me, Mom, and Megumi were walking back to the Crossfire and Mom freaked out … Did you guys see Nathan?”

“Yes.”

“He’d been there before and got his ass beat by Gideon Cross. Why would he go back?”

He glanced at me through the mirror. “My guess? To be seen. Once he made himself known, he kept the pressure up. Likely, he expected to frighten you and managed to scare Mrs. Stanton instead. Effective in either case.”

“And no one told me,” I said quietly. “I can’t get over that.”

“He wanted you frightened. No one wanted to give him that satisfaction.”

Oh. I hadn’t thought of it that way.

“My big regret,” he went on, “is not keeping an eye on Cary. I miscalculated, and he paid the price.”

Gideon hadn’t seen Nathan’s attack on Cary coming, either. And God knew I felt guilty about it, too—my friendship was what had put Cary in danger to begin with.

But I was really touched that Clancy cared. I could hear it in his gruff voice. He was right; I wasn’t just a job to him. He was a good man who gave his all to everything he did. Which made me wonder: How much did he have left over for the other things in his life?

“Do you have a girlfriend, Clancy?”

“I’m married.”

I felt like an ass for not knowing that. What was she like, the woman married to such a hard, somber man? A man who wore a jacket year-round to hide the sidearm he was never without. Did he soften for her and show her tenderness? Was he fierce about protecting her? Would he kill for her?

“How far would you go to keep her safe?” I asked him.

We slowed at a light and he turned his head to look at me. “How far wouldn’t I go?”

9

“WHAT WAS WRONG with that one?” Megumi asked, watching the guy in question walk away. “He had dimples.”

I rolled my eyes and polished off my vodka and cranberry. Primal, the fourth stop on our club-hopping list, was pumping. The line to get in wrapped around the block and the guitar-heavy tracks suited the club’s name, the music pounding through the darkened space with a primitive, seductive beat. The décor was an eclectic mix of brushed metals and dark woods, with the multihued lighting creating animal-print silhouettes.

It should’ve been too much, but like everything Gideon, it skirted the edge of decadent excess without falling over it. The atmosphere was one of hedonistic abandon and it did crazy things to my alcohol-fueled libido. I couldn’t sit still, my feet tapping restlessly on the rungs of my chair.

Megumi’s roommate, Lacey, groaned at the ceiling, her dark blond hair arranged in a disheveled updo I admired. “Why don’t you flirt with him?”

“I might,” Megumi said, looking flushed, bright-eyed, and very hot in a slinky gold halter dress. “Maybe he’ll commit.”

“What do you want out of commitment?” Shawna asked, nursing a drink as fiery red as her hair. “Monogamy?”

“Monogamy is overrated.” Lacey slid off her bar stool at our tallboy table and wriggled her butt, the rhinestones on her jeans glittering in the semidarkness of the club.

“No, it’s not.” Megumi pouted. “I happen to like monogamy.”

“Is Michael sleeping with other women?” I asked, leaning forward so I didn’t have to shout.

I had to lean back right away to make room for the waitress, who brought another round and cleared the previous one away. The club’s uniform of black stiletto boots and hot pink strapless minidresses stood out in the crowd, making it easy to know who to flag. It was also really sexy—as was the staff wearing them. Had Gideon had any hand in picking the outfit? And if so, had anyone modeled it for him?

“I don’t know.” Megumi picked up her new drink and sucked at her straw with a sad face. “I’m afraid to ask.”

Grabbing one of the four shot glasses in the center of the table and a lime wedge, I shouted, “Let’s do shots and dance!”

“Fuck yeah!” Shawna tossed back her shot of Patrón without waiting for the rest of us, then shoved a lime in her mouth. Dropping the juiceless wedge into her empty glass, she shot us all a look. “Hurry up, laggers.”

I went next, shuddering as the tequila washed away the tang of cranberry. Lacey and Megumi went together, toasting each other with a loud “Kanpai!” before downing theirs.

We hit the dance floor en masse, Shawna leading the way in her electric blue dress that was damn near as bright under the black lights as the club uniform. We were swallowed into the mass of writhing dancers, quickly finding ourselves pressed between steamy male bodies.

I let go, giving myself over to the grinding beat of the music and the sultry atmosphere of the rocking club. Lifting my hands in the air, I swayed, releasing the lingering tension from the long, pointless afternoon with my mother. At some point, I’d lost my trust in her. As much as she promised that things would be different without Nathan, I found I couldn’t believe her. She’d crossed the line too many times.

“You’re beautiful,” someone yelled by my ear.

I looked over my shoulder at the dark-haired guy curved against my back. “Thanks!”

It was a lie, of course. My hair clung to my sweat-damp temples and neck in a sticky tangle. I didn’t care. The music raged on, songs sliding into each other.

I reveled in the utter sensuality of the venue and the shameless drive for casual sex that everyone seemed to exude. I was pressed between a couple—the girlfriend at my back and her boyfriend at my front—when I spotted someone I knew. He must have seen me first, because he was already working his way toward me.

“Martin!” I yelled, breaking out of my bump-and-grind sandwich. In the past, I’d only crossed paths with Stanton’s nephew during the holidays. We’d met up once since I moved to New York, but I hoped we would eventually see each other more.

“Eva, hi!” He caught me up in a hug, then pulled back to check me out. “You look fantastic. How are you?”

“Let’s get a drink!” I shouted, feeling too parched to hold a conversation at the decibel level required in the crowd.

Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the crush and I pointed to my table. The moment we sat down, the waitress was there with another vodka and cranberry.