Dancing with Deception (17 page)

Rebecca squeaked as Colin ducked and rammed Gideon in the stomach. The men fell over and began to grapple like young boys on a playground. Rebecca shouted their names but they couldn’t hear her over their own threats and grunts. Never having experience with fighting men—or boys—Rebecca seethed.

She stalked over to the helm and cut the engine. When that didn’t faze them, she began to shake one of their shoulders. She couldn’t tell who, but as she was shaking him, he brought his fist up again. Rebecca flinched back, knowing they didn’t see her. She backed up a little too fast and the back of her knees rammed into the side of the boat.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. There was nothing she could do to catch her balance. She teetered a moment, swinging her arms and let out a high pitch squeal. The only thought she could process as she hit the cool water was
thank God she had turned the boat off
. She hit the water and plunged under, a roaring filling her ears. Her lungs were already screaming by the time she stopped sinking under the water.

Since the sky was black, she couldn’t tell which way was up. Panicked, she tried to let her body float naturally to the surface but she seemed to hang in limbo. While her lungs burned for air, Rebecca’s vision began to fade. She cursed her father again because he was the reason everything was happening. And he’d slept with Molly Hallowitz. Oh, it burned. The pain in her lungs couldn’t compare to the pain in her heart. She hated that her last thoughts, her last comprehensible thinking was about her spineless father.

She kicked out again and came into contact with something big and solid. She shrieked in the water and through the bubbles from the little air she’d released, she saw Gideon’s dark eyes before she was grabbed and drug up. At least she hoped it was up.

A few painful seconds later, they broke surface. Rebecca gasped and brought air into her tortured lungs again and again. She felt another strong pair of hands pulling at her. Without being clear on how she came to be, she landed on the floor of the speedboat shivering. Gideon landed in a heap beside her and immediately took her in his arms.

She couldn’t say for sure who was shaking more. She assumed it was her because she was so cold. Her teeth chattered from the frigid air and shock of almost drowning. She buried her face into Gideon’s chest, too exhausted to yell at them for knocking her into the water in the first place. She could be mad about it later, she decided.

She had thought for a moment that she was dying and that shook her more. She had been fading, she knew. She remembered the limpness in her limbs as she had struggled to move them. She remembered her last thought being
The Dance
and wanting so badly to slam her fist through the canvas for causing her life to turn upside down.

Through
the canvas, her mind repeated. And she knew.

“The p-painting.”

“Forget about the stupid painting.” Gideon grabbed the blanket Colin had retrieved from one of their nifty storage compartments and wrapped her up tightly. “Are you all right?”

“Look inside the painting.” She shuddered again as the warmth spread. “He p-put something in the painting. And he wants me to look inside the canvas.”

“We’ll take care of it.” Colin’s voice was quiet.

She glanced up at him. “You’re bleeding.”

Colin wiped at the blood on his lips and sneered. “Bastard. Still got a sneaky left.”

“You idiots knocked me in the water.” She tried to put attitude in her voice but it came out shaky, which infuriated her. “You two
were fighting like a couple of—
” She seethed. “Idiots!”

“You’re completely right,” Colin agreed.

“Shut up, kiss ass.”

“You started it,” Colin pointed out.

Gideon growled. Rebecca pulled on his shirt. “Grow up! C-can we please get to the house some time soon. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s freezing.”

“Get the boat moving, dumb ass.” Gideon pulled Rebecca fully into his lap. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He kissed her wet hair.

Rebecca gave up and laid her head against his shoulder. Her arms and legs felt as though she’d run ten miles and her head was pounding harder than waves against rocks. She felt as though she’d been hit by a truck. “Want to share my blanket?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I thought I was going to die,” she whispered.

“I know.” His voice had grown thick and his grip tightened.

Rebecca shut her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to be in her warm bed at the Avery home, but she had to see what was inside
The Dance
. She wouldn’t sleep until she did. What if it was money? Should she turn it into the police? How could she keep her damn promise when the whole thing was a big joke anyway?

She accepted—as much as anyone could—that her father was a criminal. He’d never been anything else for as long as she’d been born.  She accepted that he’d used something of hers to rip someone off and had ultimately endangered her life. But how could he sleep with Molly? How could he have told her things he had no business telling? She shivered again as she recalled Molly’s hateful words.
“You’re father told me about how he left you. Gosh, Rebecca. I wonder what makes you so unlovable. It’s no secret your mother can’t stand you.”

She didn’t know anything, she told herself as the tears threatened. But she knew Molly had been telling the truth when she had told her they’d slept together. How else could she know all the private things she knew? Rebecca knew Gideon was angry with her for not telling him everything. But how could she? It was humiliating.

The boat lurched to a stop. Rebecca kept her eyes closed because her head was pounding viciously. She didn’t protest when Gideon picked her up and jumped down from the boat with her in his arms. He didn’t set her down as she expected though, he just began walking toward the house.

“I can walk.”

He ignored her and walked through the door Colin had opened for him. As soon as they entered the house, she heard Rose’s usually quiet voice throwing questions at her son. She felt warm, dry hands on her shoulders as soon as Gideon sat her on her feet. Seconds later, Rose and Jess were drying her with towels still firing off questions like a loaded cannon.

“I f-fell,” she managed to say. She let them fuss while she closed her eyes. Rose checked her for bumps or bruises and tried to pat her hair dry.

Rebecca heard the men talking and turned her head. Gideon nodded at something his father said and walked over to her.

“You okay?”

She nodded, clutching the blanket around her. She felt as though she had skin made of ice instead of flesh. It was only September, she thought. Maybe she was going into shock. Could a person in shock know they were in it? She wanted to ask but her teeth chattered.

Colin brought a cup to her and wrapped her hand around it. “It’s warm tea. It’ll take the chill off.”

She drank it obediently and sighed as the warmth began to spread.

“Thank you.”

“What happened?” Rose asked again
,
easing Rebecca into a chair.

“We knocked her into the water.” When Rose turned and glared at Gideon, he threw his hands up in defense. “It was an accident. I went in after her.”

“Just what were you doing to have managed to accidently knock her in the water?”

“What do you think?”

Rose glared at Colin. “You boys ought to learn how to use your words. They used to fight a lot as boys,” Rose murmured to Rebecca.

“That’s why they have brain damage,” Jess said solemnly.

“You want brain damage?” Gideon grabbed Jess around the waist and kept her in his arm. “We really are sorry, Rebecca.”

“It’s fine.” Now that the chills had passed, her mind was working again. “Something’s inside the painting. We should see what it is.” She told the remaining three the modified version of what Molly had told her leaving out the part about her sleeping with her father. She ignored Gideon’s searching gaze. He knew there was more and he wanted to know what it was.

When she was finished, Gideon left the room without a word, returning a minute later with the wrapped painting. He handed it to Rebecca along with his pocket-knife. She took the knife and cut through the cloth wrap then pierced it in the side of the canvas.
She dragged the knife down the canvas before handing back to Gideon.

It was filled with bubble wrap. She reached in and pulled it out. Ripping tape, she removed a thin box from the plastic covering and simply stared at it. With shaking fingers, she flipped the lid and sighed.

“It’s a cell phone.” Rebecca took it out of the box and saw a yellow post-it note that had the number one written on it.

“What does
‘one’
mean?”

Rebecca glanced up at Gideon. “Speed dial number one, maybe. It’ll be his number, I’m sure.”

“Call it.”

Seeing no point in requesting privacy, Rebecca held the number one down and waited for it to connect. Gideon lowered his head to the phone to hear the conversation. Her father answered on the third ring, his voice bright and cheery.

“I got your message,” she said dryly.

“I see. And how are you, Becca?”

“What the hell are you doing?” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. How dare he act as if nothing were wrong after he’d turned her life upside down?

“Sitting on the beach drinking a mimosa.”

Gideon snorted.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Why did you leave the painting with me? You do know there are people after me to get it, don’t you?”

“Put it on speaker.” She obeyed Gideon’s quiet command all though dread curdled in her stomach. It was absolutely humiliating to display her uneasy relationship with her father.

“I heard you booted one of them in the balls and shook them off what? Three times now?”

“Something like that.”

“Becca.” His voice was chiding and amused. It set her teeth on edge. “I really thought you’d just give them the painting.”

“They didn’t just want the painting, Dad. They wanted me with it. Probably as collateral until you gave them back the money you stole from them.”

“It’s not stealing,” he said defensively. “They gave me the money.”

“After you scammed them.”

“I’m not responsible for their carelessness.”

It was an old argument that Rebecca didn’t feel like getting into. Austin Channing honestly believed he wasn’t a criminal.

“That’s not even the point. These guys are after me and now I’ve put other people in danger. You need to come get the stupid painting so they’ll leave me alone.”

“I step back in Cleveland right now, I’m dead. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Look, I’m sorry if it’s causing you problems, but my hands are tied. It’ll die down and they’ll stop bothering you when they realize
it’s all
over.”

“And if it doesn’t?” she demanded. “If they kill me first, Dad?”

“Then they won’t have anything to bargain with, now will they?”

So that was it, she mused. She’d been reduced to his bartering tool, an expendable diversion while he was safe. Nausea rolled in her stomach. She was glad she was sitting down. She wanted nothing more than to reduce to a puddle of misery on the floor.

“I guess they won’t. Why go after a daughter you don’t give two shits about? Why not your little bubble-brained whore?”

“I do care about you, Becca. I wish I could have been around more.”

“Yes, so you’ve said.”

“And don’
t call Molly a whore, love. Al
though judgment’s still out on the bubble-brained part.” He laughed and it was like nails on a chalkboard to her already shredded nerves.

“Did you figure that out before or after you slept with her?”

“Oh, way before. I’m not stupid.” She heard a faint beeping on the other end of the line, probably the microwave. She could just picture him leaning against the counter waiting for his damn TV dinner. He’d obviously lied about being on a beach.

“You’re wrong about that.” Now it was her turn to sound bored. She managed it well enough while the hurt and devastation went to war inside her. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s not my problem anymore. I don’t want to ever see you again, do you hear? Come get the damn painting and if you get shot in the process, it’s no more than you deserve.”

“Don’t be like this. You know how it all shakes down in the end. Call me back when you’re more reasonable and we’ll talk. Bye, now.” The phone clicked a second before she dropped it back in the box. The room was quiet. So quiet that it took her a minute before she remembered that the entire Avery family stood behind her. Shame washed over her.

“I apologize.” Was that small, dismal voice hers?

“Are you okay, honey?” Rose’s quiet voice broke the last thread of control. A dry sob worked its way from her throat, but there were no tears. She held on to that. Her chest hurt from a pressure so huge, she hunched her shoulders against the pain. “Come, on. Jess, help me get her to bed.”