Page 8 of Deceive Me
“Can Elliot come over and have a tea party?”
Deacon ignored the choking sound coming from the still-crouching Elliot. “Sure. In fact, everyone will be coming over to help me with some stuff at the house.”
“Work stuff?” Sydney asked.
“Work stuff.” He gave Elliot a wicked glance. “But I’m sure we can find time for you and Elliot to have a tea party.”
“Yay!” Sydney skipped her way back to Elliot. “What do you like to have at tea parties? The tea is pretended. Or milk; sometimes Daddy gives me milk to pour. And cookies. Do you like cookies? What kind?”
Elliot, seeming flustered, finally said, “I don’t know. I’ve never had a tea party.”
“Never?” Sydney’s distress was plain as she squinted between Elliot and Deacon, a look that said she didn’t understand how anyone could get to the age of four without a tea party, much less be a grownup like Elliot and not have this vital experience. “She’s never had a tea party, Daddy.”
He wasn’t sure he understood it either, but… “Well, we’ll have to remedy that, won’t we?”
If Elliot’s glare had been a weapon, he’d be bleeding out on the floor. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “See, Sydney, Elliot definitely wants to have a tea party.”
Sydney swung her head around to see a quickly smiling Elliot.
“Sounds fun,” Elliot said. The not she undoubtedly added in her mind was clear, at least to him. It made him want to kiss that look off her face.
Why did her bristly attitude attract him? He didn’t know, but he liked it. Maybe because she was the opposite of Julia, everything out in the open for everyone to see, socially acceptable or not. Julia had been a wonderful part of his life and he’d loved her, but she’d been nothing like Elliot.
Nothing.
Of all the things he’d expected walking into this office this morning, Elliot had not been one of them.
3
“You fucking lied to a client.”
The slam of Dain’s locker door as he flung it open told Elliot even more about his mood than his words did. Guess she was lucky he’d waited till the rest of the team left for Deacon Walsh’s house before confronting her.
She tossed the duffel she’d been filling onto the bench and turned to face her boss. “And you fucking let me, Dain.”
Dain squared off too, body tense, arms tight over his chest. “Of course I did; I’ve got your back, always. I wasn’t about to contradict you in front of everyone.”
“So it was just about allowing me to save face; is that it?” She snorted, hiding her hurt behind the usual sarcasm. “I’ve never given a rat’s ass what anyone thought about me and you know it.”
“I know that’s what you tell yourself.” Abandoning his locker, he crossed to tower over her from the opposite side of the bench. “It’s what you’ve always told yourself, and it’s a damn lie, because if it were true, I wouldn’t be the only one in this building who knows you’re Martin Diako’s daughter.”
“That’s not why.”
“Then explain it to me, Elliot.”
I can’t handle anyone seeing who I really am, even you. Dain had gotten her drunk and gotten the facts, but even he couldn’t release her emotions. Sometimes she wondered if they were well and truly dead, except if they were, she wouldn’t be afraid of them.
She turned to rummage in her locker for a T-shirt. The silence behind her became heavy with Dain’s disappointment the longer it stretched, and when she turned back to him, her gaze refused to lift off the floor. “Knowing who I am won’t help this case. It sure as hell won’t help us protect Sydney Walsh.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” Dain argued. When Elliot leaned back against the lockers, arms crossed over her ribs, a growl erupted from his lips. “Would you look at me, damn it?”
You’re not two; you’re a grown woman with a right to decide who knows about your past.
She met Dain’s gaze. Barely.
He ignored her defiance. “Deacon’s daughter is at risk. He has a right to know anything and everything related to his case. Period.”
“This is my personal history, Dain, not a fact of this case. Certainly not something that will hinder it. If anything, you’re lucky to have me on the team. I’m the only expert on Mansa that exists, whether anyone else knows it or not. I’ve studied his every move, his personality, the people he surrounds himself with and the people he eliminates—and why. You need that. You need me. Because Sydney will never be safe until I take Mansa out.”
