But when he snarled, “You better watch your mouth, asshole. Because in case you can’t see through all your tears, Eve really wants off the leash here. And, rest assured, the only thing standing between you and a ripped out throat is the fact that I’m holding that leash,” she realized she didn’t want to thank him or feed him a fist sandwich at all. What she wanted was to turn around and kiss him. Kiss him for the strength in the hard grip he had on her, kiss him for the strength in the words he’d just spoken. Because that was something she’d never had before. A man’s strength to add to her own. A man to have her back.
In this case, literally.
And it was that strength, the knowledge that even after everything he still had her back, that allowed all the savagery and hysteria, all the mindless fight that’d overtaken her reason, to drain from her body like a river drains into the sea. One minute, she was completely out of control. The next, she was as calm as calm can be. Well, as calm as anyone could be when coming face-to-face with an ex-husband who’d attempted to murder her in cold blood not once, but four times …
Billy must’ve felt the sudden change in her, because he slowly loosened his grip.
No, she wanted to say. Don’t let go of me. I need you to—
And maybe he could read minds, or maybe he could just read her, because in the next instant he stepped up beside her, lacing their fingers together so they could confront Blake as a unit.
Sweet Lord in heaven. Okay, and she was officially on the emotional roller coaster from hell, because now she felt like crying. Her lip quivered in warning.
“You got this, sweetheart.” Billy squeezed her hand, his big palm so warm and reassuring against hers. “Go ahead.” He jerked his chin toward Blake. “Let him have it.”
Eve glanced up at him, into his wonderful face—the best face on the whole planet; her favorite face—and what she saw was one-hundred-percent, no-holds-barred, Whatever happens, I’m right here with you shining in his dark, diamond-bright eyes.
Yes, I’ve got this, she thought, her stomach quivering with gratitude. With you by my side, I’ve got everything.
Pushing her hair out of her face, she turned to throw down the gauntlet in front of the man who’d been the one to orchestrate so much of the sorrow she’d suffered over last dozen years. The man who, for some reason she couldn’t begin to fathom, was trying to kill her…
Dragging in a deep, fortifying breath, she glanced around the foyer and noted Mac and Delilah were standing quietly off to the side. Mac was watching the proceedings with his usual stoicism, face blank, arms crossed, gaze narrowed ever-so-slightly. Delilah, on the other hand, wasn’t so good at hiding her feelings. If Eve wasn’t mistaken, that was unfettered glee she saw in the woman’s eyes as she watched Blake use the hem of his shirt in an attempt to stymie the river of red that continued to sluggishly leak from his broken nose.
And, yes, she should probably be embarrassed that they’d witnessed her losing her…erm…S-H-I-T. as Billy would say—although he’d never spell it out, silently or otherwise. But instead, she was bolstered by the knowledge that she could put two more check marks on her mental scoreboard under the heading: Folks Who are on My Side.
On the other hand, there was her father…
When she turned her gaze to him, the look on his face had her lungs seizing in her chest and her heart skipping one horrid beat. No support there. Huh-uh. In fact, it was just the opposite. In a word, her father’s expression was one of…disgust.
Billy squeezed her hand again, and she shook her head, blowing out a resigned breath, because that was it. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She’d tried for so long to gain her father’s approval. And to have him look at her like he was looking at her right now was just too much. She was done. Done caring.
Your loss, Dad, she thought savagely before turning away from him, from his frown of displeasure, and from any hope that they’d ever share the kind of love and understanding she’d always craved. Sucking in another deep breath, taking comfort in the smell of soap and soft leather that clung to Billy in a soothing cloud, she focused her mind and her gaze on Blake.
It was time to face the music. For both of them…
“Why did you try to have me killed?” she asked, surprised and gratified when her voice came out as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar. Not one ounce of the betrayal she was feeling was evident in her tone. And perhaps it was the feel of Billy standing so tall and strong beside her—a real-life knight in shining biker books—or maybe she’d finally grown that set of brass ladyballs, but in that instant she knew there was nothing Blake could say to hurt her, nothing he could do to make her back away from the truth, however unsavory that truth might be.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, his words garbled and nasally as he pinched the end of his nose, tilting his head back.
Had she been expecting anything more? No, not really. But still she pressed, “Don’t play games, Blake. The only two people who knew where I was tonight were you and Dad.”
“Eve,” her father cut in, “stop this nonsense. Blake wouldn’t—”
“Shut up,” she commanded, turning to glare at him and his startled expression. Yep, you’re starting to get it, aren’t you? I’m not a scared little girl you can push around anymore. “You’ve done quite enough already.”
“Wh-what?” he sputtered, nostril’s flaring before he realized his veneer of elegance was slipping. Sniffing, he said, “I can’t imagine what you mean, I—”
“Save it, Dad,” she told him. “The fact remains you knew I was afraid. You knew Jeremy and I both believed there was something insidious behind all my accidents,” she made the quote marks with the fingers of one hand. “But you chose to ignore us, ignore my fear. And for that and for the fact that you’re still associating with my ex-husband when you know I’ve been trying for over a decade to distance myself from him, not to mention the way you pushed me at him twelve years ago, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Eve,” he placated, reaching toward her. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” she promised, nodding her head, meeting his gaze head-on. Read the truth in my eyes, Dad. “I mean every single word of it.”
He dropped his hand, his face draining of blood until his cheeks looked sallow. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a pinch of regret at the harshness of her words. But she’d come too far to back down now. Sparing him one last pitying glance, she turned back to Blake.
“Tell me, Blake,” she demanded, “what possible motive could you have for paying two thugs to come into Delilah’s bar to gun me down. Tell me,” a sharp note edged into her tone, but she couldn’t help it, “one good reason why you’d set fire to my condo, or cut my brake lines, or have someone try to shoot me outside the aquarium. I’d really, really like to know.”