by Karen Rose
Gideon went still. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Mercy turned to stare at his profile, dawning realization and horror on her face. “Gideon?” she whispered.
She hadn’t known. Daisy didn’t know what to say. What to do. Mercy hadn’t known why Gideon ran away.
Gideon shook his head tightly, his gaze locked on the screen. “I got away. But it was close. I guess Levi wasn’t so lucky.”
Lawton’s head shake was slow and incredibly sad. “No. He wasn’t.”
“How did you meet him?” Daisy asked when Gideon and Mercy fell silent.
“In high school. I’m from L.A. Levi came to live with his uncle when we were fifteen. My mom and his uncle’s wife were friends and thought I’d be good for Levi. You know, to introduce him around and hang out. We got along and then we were inseparable. Lawton and Levi.” The tears were flowing down his face. “Friends forever.”
Daisy smiled gently at him. “And then more than friends.”
“Yeah,” Lawton said hoarsely. “But Levi had so many demons. He wanted a life with me, but all that Eden shit kept coming back and back and back. He was two steps forward and three steps back, y’know?”
Daisy nodded sadly. “I know.”
“And then I got a swimming scholarship,” he said miserably. “Levi had been on the team with me until senior year. I didn’t know why he dropped out, but then one day I surprised him in his room when he was changing his shirt. He had scars from cutting and fresh track marks. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know. That’s why he quit swimming. Well, that and he would have failed drug tests in competition. I tried to get him help. Tried to get him therapy. His uncle did, too. But Levi wouldn’t go. He was afraid the therapist would get him to tell his secrets and then he’d spill about Eden. It was the first I heard of it and he made me promise to never tell.” He looked away. “So I didn’t.”
Daisy knew that feeling. She hadn’t been able to fully open up in therapy during rehab, either. She’d feared divulging their family’s secret—that they were in hiding and feared Taylor’s biological father. So she’d said very, very little.
She glanced at Gideon, who wore the same far-gone expression that he had the night they’d first met, when he’d blurted out that the man in Eileen’s wedding photo was dead.
“Gideon?” she murmured.
He nodded, acknowledging that he’d heard her, but said nothing. Neither did Mercy.
All right then. “Whatever happened or didn’t happen wasn’t your fault, Lawton,” Daisy said, not expecting her words to make a difference, but Lawton surprised her.
“I know. It’s the fault of the bastards who hurt him and all the others who looked the other way. But Levi was the one who suffered. And so did we.”
“Did his uncle know?” Daisy asked.
“No. His uncle was told that Levi had been abandoned into the system and Levi didn’t set the story straight. He told me later, when it all came out, that he couldn’t tell his uncle because his uncle would go hunting for Eden and that his mother would be punished, because ‘they’d’ know. So he never told anyone. Only me.”
Gideon abruptly straightened in his seat. “How did he get away?”
“His mother smuggled him out on some kind of supply truck. He finally told her what was going on and she cried. She gave him her brother’s name, then paid the driver to get him out and drop him off at a bus station.”
She paid the driver, Daisy thought bitterly. Gideon’s mother had paid with her body. It was likely that Levi’s had done the same.
“Which station?” Gideon asked.
“The one in Medford, Oregon,” Lawton said.
“It’s about the same driving time from Macdoel as is the Redding bus station,” Daisy murmured.
Gideon nodded that he’d heard her, but his eyes were locked on the young man on-screen. “And his mother?”
Lawton shook his head. “She had other kids. She couldn’t leave them.”
Gideon and Mercy shared a long glance. Mercy let out a slow breath. “We know that story,” she said in that still way she had. “I was the child my mother had to stay for.”
Gideon’s shoulders slumped sorrowfully. “Mercy,” he whispered.
“But it’s true,” Mercy said.
Daisy’s heart hurt for Mercy. What a burden that has to be.
Lawton looked equally affected. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Mercy said. “I remember Levi. He was eight or nine when I left, a really sweet little boy.” One side of her mouth lifted. “I used to watch him and some of the other kids when the mothers did sewing circle or Bible study. He loved flowers.”
Lawton smiled tremulously. “He wanted to be a botanist. He never got the chance.”
“Did you go to college together?” Daisy asked.
“No. He graduated, but his grades were poor. He’d missed a lot of schooling growing up in Eden. The drugs had gotten bad, too, so that wasn’t helping. When I got my scholarship, I almost said no. I wanted to stay home and take care of him, but he wouldn’t let me. He pushed me to go. Came to my meets. Cheered me on.” Lawton closed his eyes, visibly steeling himself. “Then he hanged himself from a tree in his uncle’s backyard.”
There was silence until Agent Dabney broke it with a heavy sigh. He hadn’t said a word throughout, just listened, his expression pained. “Does your involvement here indicate that the Bureau is reopening the Eden investigation?”
Lawton’s eyes grew wide. “Wait. You mean the government knows about these assholes and hasn’t stopped them?”
“That’s complicated,” Gideon said. “I reported them when I first joined the Bureau and the FBI searched for the community, but the leaders of Eden are very good at hiding themselves. I’ve been assigned to lead the investigation now that we have some new evidence. We’ve been a little busy with a serial killer the past week, but now that it’s been resolved, I’ll be focusing all my time on finding them. Lawton, if you could provide the name and address for Levi’s uncle, that would be helpful.”
Lawton’s mouth thinned. “He died, too. He had a heart problem, and finding Levi’s body hanging like that was the kicker. He and Levi didn’t get along. His uncle couldn’t understand why he’d turned to drugs. He threw Levi out a few weeks before the suicide.”
Gideon’s jaw clenched and he nodded. “I understand. Thank you, Lawton, for talking to us. Please let me know if you remember anything else.”
“I will.” His eyes narrowed, glinting with hatred. “I hope you fry their asses. I hope they go to prison and find out how Levi felt.”
Amen, Daisy thought, the viciousness of her own thought taking her breath away.
Dabney and Gideon ended the call and the three of them sat quietly.
“Goddammit,” Gideon breathed.
Mercy sighed. “What now, Gideon?”
“We keep looking for others who’ve gotten out.” He closed his laptop. “And we have the wedding photos. Edward McPhearson and Ephraim Burton had to have come from somewhere. Hard to believe that men that evil weren’t cruel to others before arriving in Eden.”
The flicker of true fear in Mercy’s eyes was gone so quickly that Daisy wondered if she’d imagined it. Daisy opened her mouth to ask, then closed it when Mercy shot her an imploring look. Don’t ask. Please.
So Daisy kept the question to herself. And wondered.
“But we have somewhere to go right now,” Gideon went on, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation she and Mercy had shared.
Mercy’s smile was wan. “On a date, I hope.”
Daisy put Brutus in her bag. “Well, maybe after. I’m going to a meeting. Gideon will wait outside, worrying about me, and then hopefully there will be dinner.”
Mercy was frowning. “A meeting? Like a neighborhood meeting?”
Dais
y hadn’t realized that Mercy didn’t know. “No, an AA meeting. Mercy, I’m a recovering alcoholic. Eight years sober,” she added when Mercy’s eyes widened.
But all Mercy said was, “Have a good time.”
“You’re welcome to come with us,” Daisy offered. “You can keep Gideon company while he paces outside the community center.”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll go sit with Rafe a bit.”
Gideon looked like he wanted to kiss Mercy’s cheek, but she pulled away. Schooling his features, Gideon hid his hurt and tried to smile at her. “We’ll see you later.”
Mercy swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Gideon stilled. “For what?”
“I can’t be touched. It’s . . . It’s not you, okay?”
“Okay,” he said gently. “I get it.”
He held the door open for Daisy, not saying a word until they stood outside on her front porch. “She didn’t know,” he whispered.
He didn’t have to clarify. That Mercy hadn’t known why he’d escaped was at the top of Daisy’s mind, too. “I know. Look, I’m perfectly capable of getting myself to the community center. You can stay here and really talk to her. I know you’ve been wanting to.”
He sighed. “She said she came to talk, but every time I’ve tried to start a conversation, she finds something else to do. I figure I’ll just wait for her to come to me.”
“That’s probably for the best.” She wrapped her arms around him because he looked like he needed it. He drew her close and rested his cheek on top of her head.
“No wonder she resented me.” His voice broke. “She thought I ran off just because I hated it there, leaving Mama to be abused for years.”
“I know,” she soothed. “Give her time, Gideon.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know, baby.” She stepped back, taking his hand. “I need to go or I’ll be late.”
He drew a breath and nodded once. “Let’s go. Where are we going for dinner afterward?”
She swallowed hard. “Trish and I used to go to this dive. The Forty-niner Diner.”
“Would you like to go there?” he asked gently.
She’d been debating it all day but had realized it was what Trish would want her to do. “Yeah. I think I would. I might even have an extra ice cream sundae for Trish.”
He squeezed her hand and led her to the sidewalk. “Forty-niner Diner it is.”
SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 10:30 P.M.
“I like your house,” Daisy said, running her hand over the marble countertop in Gideon’s kitchen. The house had clean lines, the decor very simple yet masculine. Very Gideon.
It was the first time she’d been in his house. They’d been staying over at Karl and Irina’s, in Sasha’s old room, which had a queen bed, so they didn’t roll onto the floor. Daisy had wanted to spend as much time with her father as she could before he returned to Maryland. Her father, to his credit, had barely lifted an eyebrow when she’d stated that she and Gideon would be sharing a room.
Karl had told her later that her father was choosing his battles. Daisy could live with that. Especially since they hadn’t done anything more than hold each other and sleep.
But tonight, she wanted some alone time with Gideon. She knew that he needed it, too, especially after the afternoon they’d had. Her heart broke every time she remembered the look on Mercy’s face when she realized the truth about Gideon’s departure from Eden.
But she wasn’t going to think about that now, because Gideon was smiling at her from where he leaned against the doorjamb, watching her explore. “I’m glad,” he said, “but I have to admit to being a little jealous of my countertop.”
She looked down at her hand rubbing the countertop and chuckled. “No need to be. It doesn’t do anything interesting when I rub it.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “God. Daisy.”
She feigned innocence. “What?”
He shook his head, still smiling. “You’re . . . absolutely perfect.”
“Not really.” She gladly gave up rubbing the marble to wrap her arms around his neck. “But I’m awfully glad you think so.” She kissed him, quick and fast. A teasing peck. “So I’ve seen this floor. What else is there to see?”
“The bathroom I just finished. The tile has sparkles.”
She grinned. “Sparkles? Really?”
“Irina picked it out.”
“And did she help decorate your bedroom, too?”
“No,” he murmured, kissing her for real, deep and wet, until her toes curled. “The bedroom is all mine,” he whispered against her lips, suddenly serious. “Wanna see it?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” she whispered back.
Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs and through the door at the end of the upstairs hallway. The bed was the first thing she saw—king-sized, with the sheets turned down. The second thing she saw was the accent wall behind the bed. The rest of the walls were a pearl gray, but the wall behind the bed was a specific shade of blue.
“It matches my eyes,” Daisy murmured.
“I noticed that.” Standing at her back, Gideon slid his good arm around her waist. “I thought it was a good omen, since I picked that color myself.”
He thrust his hips ever so slightly, so that she felt the brush of his erection. He was hard and ready.
She was ready, too. They’d been doing a teasing dance since dinner, lighthearted with the hint of what was to come. But it was past time. Going to the community center without Trish on Thursday night seemed alien and wrong, and most of their AA group had burst into tears at some point during the meeting. It had been utterly draining. She needed this.
She needed him.
She turned in his arms, looping her arms around his neck again. “We’re due a good omen or two.” She loosened his sling and slipped it off so that she could get to the buttons of his shirt, impatiently pulling them free. But when she pushed the shirt from his shoulders, it was slowly and with care because he was far from being healed.
As soon as his chest was bare, she ran her hands over the hard planes, lightly tracing the outline of his phoenix tattoo. His belt was next and within seconds, his pants and boxer briefs were on the floor and he was gloriously naked. Stepping back, she looked her fill, up and down and everything in between. He was a truly beautiful man.
She started to walk around him, suddenly aware that she’d never seen him from behind. His hand shot out to grip her arm, startling her. Her eyes flew up to meet his.
Where there had been joy and lust, she now saw apprehension.
“What is it?” she whispered.
He drew a breath. “I have scars. On my back. Just . . . be prepared. Okay?”
She nodded soberly and he let her go. Cautious now, she moved around him, grateful he’d warned her. Not because she was horrified. Not because he was ugly.
But the scars were . . . extreme. Had he not warned her, she might have reacted simply out of shock. And rage.
She’d known he’d been beaten, but she thought he’d meant with fists. Not this.
They’d done this to him. Hurt him. There were gouges and stripes on his back and the backs of his legs, like they’d used whips and knives. On a thirteen-year-old boy. On his birthday. After he’d already fended off a pedophile.
His shoulders had tensed, waiting for her reaction, making her heart break yet again. She slipped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his back. The scars weren’t raised, and most had faded, but still they . . . existed.
She swallowed hard, praying she’d say the right thing. “I’m so angry right now,” she whispered. “They put their hands on you. They hurt you. I want to find them and I want to . . . well, I want to do things that I probably shouldn’t confess to a federal agent.”
>
His shoulders relaxed and he chuckled. “You are a bloodthirsty woman.”
Sheer relief had her eyes stinging. “I protect what’s mine, Gideon. Just like you do.” She kissed a line across his back, then traced the worst of the scars with her fingertips. “If you’re worried that I’m . . .” She trailed off, not sure which word to use.
“Repulsed?” he asked quietly.
Now she was horrified. “I’m not. The scars are part of you and you are beautiful. No ‘buts.’” She reconsidered that statement as she studied his perfect ass. “Except for your butt, of course, which is a work of art.”
He snorted, shaking his head, and she knew they’d be all right. She came back around to face him. “Put the worries from your mind, Gideon. There is nothing about your body that doesn’t turn me on.”
He hesitated. “I’ve never allowed a woman to see my back.”
Her eyes widened. “Never?”
His face flushed. “No. I didn’t trust any of them, I guess. They’d want to know what happened and it wasn’t anything I wanted to share.”
But he’d trusted her with it all. The stinging in her eyes returned and she struggled to find the perfect tone. “That means I’m the first to ever see your ass?”
His lips twitched. “Yes.”
“Then this makes me happy.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Wanna see mine?”
He took a step forward, palming her butt with his left hand. “I absolutely do. Why am I naked while you’re completely dressed?”
She smiled cheekily. “I am easily distracted. I may need direction.”
His kiss took her breath away. “Take off your clothes, Daisy,” he growled, all levity gone. He was serious. A man on a mission. It gave her the best kind of shivers.
She complied, then pointed to the unfinished tattoo on her ass cheek. “See? Brutus.”
“I see. I also see a tattoo that I’d prefer you not have filled in.”
She blinked, surprised. He was completely serious. “Why?”