Bared to You: A Crossfire Novel

“Eva! Are you okay?” Cary turned on the bedside light, cursing when he saw me curled in a fetal position, rocking violently.

When Gideon straightened, Cary rounded on him.

“Move one fucking muscle before the cops get here and I’l beat you to a bloody pulp!”

Swal owing past my burning throat, I pushed up to a seated position. My gaze locked with Gideon’s and I watched the haze of sleep leave his eyes, replaced by a dawning horror.

“Dream,” I choked out, catching Cary’s arm as he reached for the phone. “He’s d-dreaming.” Cary glanced at where Gideon crouched naked on the floor like a wild animal. Cary’s arm dropped back to his side. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “And I thought I was fucked up.”

Sliding off the bed, I stood on shaky legs, sick with lingering fear. My knees gave out and Cary caught me, lowering to the floor with me and holding me as I cried.

“I’m gonna crash on the couch.” Cary ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair and leaned into the hal way wal . The door to my bedroom was open behind me and Gideon was inside, looking pale and haunted. “I’l set out some blankets and pil ows for him, too. I don’t think he should go home alone. He’s shredded.”

“Thanks, Cary.” The arms I had wrapped around my middle tightened. “Is Tatiana stil here?”

“Hel , no. It’s not like that. We just fuck.”

“What about Trey?” I asked quietly, my mind already drifting back to Gideon.

“I love Trey. I think he’s the best person I’ve ever met aside from you.” He bent forward and kissed my forehead. “And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Stop worrying about me and take care of you.” I looked up at him, my eyes swimming in tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

Cary sighed, his green eyes dark and serious. “I think you need to decide if you’re in over your head, baby girl. Some people can’t be fixed. Look at me. I’ve got a great guy and I’m giving it to a girl I can’t stand.”

“Cary…” Reaching out, I touched his shoulder.

He caught my hand and squeezed it. “I’m here if you need me.”

Gideon was zipping up his duffel bag when I returned to my room. He looked at me and fear slithered in my gut. Not for me, but for him. I’d never seen anyone look so desolate, so utterly broken. The bleakness in his beautiful eyes frightened me. There was no life in him. He was gray as death with deep shadows in al the angles and planes of his breathtaking face.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

He backed up, as if he wanted to be as far away from me as he could get. “I can’t stay.” It worried me that I felt a surge of relief at the thought of being alone. “We agreed—no running.”

“That was before I attacked you!” he snapped, showing the first sign of spirit in over an hour.

“You were unconscious.”

“You’re not going to be a victim ever again, Eva. My God…what I almost did to you…” He turned his back to me, his shoulders hunched in a way that scared me as much as the attack had.

“If you leave, we lose and our pasts win.” I saw my words hit him like a blow. Every light in my room was on, as if electricity alone could banish al the shadows on our souls. “If you give up now, I’m afraid it’l be easier for you to stay away and for me to let you. We’l be over, Gideon.”

“How can I stay? Why would you want me to?” Turning around, he looked at me with such longing it brought fresh tears to my eyes. “I’d kil myself before I hurt you.”

Which was one of my fears. I had a difficult time picturing the Gideon I knew—the dominant, wil ful force of nature—taking his own life, but the Gideon standing before me was an entirely different person. And he was the child of a suicidal parent.

My fingers plucked at the hem of my T-shirt. “You’d never hurt me.”

“You’re afraid of me,” he said hoarsely. “I can see it on your face. I’m afraid of me. Afraid of sleeping with you and doing something that wil destroy us both.” He was right. I was afraid. Dread chil ed my stomach.

Now I knew the explosive violence in him. The festering fury. And we were so impassioned with each other. I’d slapped his face at the garden party, lashing out physical y when I never did that.

It was the nature of our relationship to be lusty and emotional, earthy and raw. The trust that held us together also opened us up to each other in ways that made us both vulnerable and dangerous. And it would get worse before it got better.

He shoved a hand through his hair. “Eva, I—”

“I love you, Gideon.”

“God.” He looked at me with something that resembled disgust. Whether it was directed at me or himself, I didn’t know. “How can you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“You just see this”—he gestured at himself with a wave of his hand. “You’re not seeing the fucked- up, broken mess inside.”

I inhaled sharply. “You can say that to me? When you know I’m fucked up and broken, too?”

“Maybe you’re wired to go for someone who’s terrible for you,” he said bitterly.

“Stop it. I know you’re hurting, but lashing out at me is only going to make you hurt worse.” I glanced at the