Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

through me in a frenzied tangle.
    Gideon pinned Brett by the throat and pummeled his ribs with a relentless series of blows. He was like a machine, silent and unstoppable. Brett grunted with each brutal impact and struggled to break free.
    “Cross! Dio mio. ”
    I wept when Arnoldo appeared. He leaped forward, reaching for Gideon, only to scramble back as Brett wrenched to the side and the two men rolled.
    Brett’s bandmates pushed in through the growing crowd around the front of the buses, prepared to brawl . . . until they saw who Brett was fighting with—the man with the money behind their record label.
    “Kline, you fuckhead!” Darrin, the drummer, gripped his own hair in both fists. “What the hell are you doing?”
    Brett broke free, lurched to his feet, and tackled Gideon into the side of a bus. Gideon linked his hands and hammered Brett’s back like a club, forcing Brett to lurch away. Pressing the advantage, Gideon lashed out with a roundhouse kick and followed with a lightning-quick jab to the gut. Brett swung, his powerful biceps bunching with his fist, but Gideon ducked fluidly and retaliated with an uppercut that snapped Brett’s head back.
    Jesus.
    Gideon didn’t make a sound, not when he struck out and not when Brett landed a direct hit to his jaw. The quiet intensity of his fury was chilling. I could feel the rage pumping off him, saw it in his eyes, but he remained controlled and eerily methodical. He’d disconnected in some way, retreated to a place where he could objectively observe his body doing serious damage to someone else.
    I’d caused that. I had turned the warm, wickedly playful man who’d enchanted me all evening into the cold, murderous fighter in front of me.
    “Miss Tramell.” Angus grabbed my elbow.
    I looked at him desperately. “You have to stop him.”
    “Please, return to the limousine.”
    “What?” I looked over and saw blood dripping from Brett’s nose. No one was intervening. “Are you crazy?”
    “We need to take Miss Ellison home. She’s your guest; you need to see to her.”
    Brett swung and when Gideon feinted to the side, Brett rammed his other fist forward, nailing Gideon in the shoulder and sending him backward a few steps.
    I grabbed Angus by the arms. “What’s the matter with you?! Stop them!”
    His pale blue eyes softened. “He knows when to stop, Eva.”
    “Are you shitting me?!”
    He looked over my shoulder. “Mr. Ricci, if you would, please.”
    The next thing I knew, I was slung over Arnoldo’s shoulder and en route to the limo. Lifting my head, I saw the circle of bystanders close in with my absence, blocking my view. I screamed my frustration and pounded at Arnoldo’s back, but it didn’t faze him. He climbed right into the back of the limo with me, and when Shawna hopped in a moment later, Angus shut the door as if everything was totally fucking normal.
    “What the hell are you doing?” I snapped at Arnoldo, scrambling for the door handle as the limo rolled smoothly into motion. It wouldn’t open and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get it to unlock. “He’s your friend! You’re just going to leave him like that?”
    “He’s your boyfriend.” The calm neutrality in Arnoldo’s voice cut me deep. “And you are the one who left him like that.”
    I slumped back into the seat, my stomach churning and my palms damp. Gideon . . .
    “You’re the Eva in the song ‘Golden,’ aren’t you?” Shawna asked quietly, from her position on the opposite bench seat.
    Arnoldo started, obviously surprised by the connection. “I wonder if Gideon—” He sighed. “Of course he knows.”
    “That was a long time ago!” I said defensively.
    “Not long enough, apparently,” he pointed out.
    Desperate to get to Gideon, I couldn’t sit still. My feet tapped, my body battling against restlessness so intense I felt like crawling out of my skin.
    I’d hurt the man I loved and through him, another man who’d done nothing more than be himself. And I had no good explanation for it. Looking back, I had no idea what had come over me. Why hadn’t I pulled away sooner? Why had I kissed Brett back?
    And what was Gideon going to do about it?
    The thought that he might break up with me triggered overwhelming panic. I was sick with worry. Was he hurt? God . . . the thought of Gideon in pain ate at me like acid. Was he in trouble? He’d assaulted Brett. My palms went damp when I remembered Cary’s news that his clusterfuck buddy