Page 47 of Deceive Me
A traitor. The daughter of the enemy, and he’d trusted her with his child. Trusted her enough to fuck her.
He hadn’t realized he’d hurtled himself toward her until hard hands bit into his arms and shoulders.
“Wait, Deacon.” Dain, intensely quiet, in his ear. “Just wait. There’s an explanation for this, I promise.”
“You knew?” Deacon jerked away from the man. Dain let him go, his gaze dropping to the floor. When it met his again, Deacon could see the mantle of responsibility in it.
“I did.”
Saint made a disbelieving sound at Deacon’s side. A glance told him Elliot’s other team member hadn’t known. King, too, seemed bewildered, his gaze shifting from Elliot to Dain to Deacon without settling on one.
So Dain and Elliot had kept secrets from their own team. “You—”
But he didn’t know what to say. What to think. What to do.
The kitchen door swinging open decided for him. Sydney pushed through, her wide eyes taking in the arguing adults, the blood on Fionn and his half-torn shirt, the brutal hold he had on Elliot. Fear welled up, and Deacon could see her start to shake. “Daddy?”
Before he could respond, Fionn made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, his eyes rolling back in his head, and slid to the floor. Sydney cried out.
Elliot almost beat him to her; Deacon scooped Sydney into his arms just in time. “Keep your goddamn hands off my daughter.” Carrying Sydney’s slight weight, he went to kneel beside Fionn.
“Saint, contact that doc, and tell him to step on it.” Fionn had likely blacked out from the concussion, but Deacon wouldn’t take chances with his friend’s life. Nor was he letting go of his daughter anytime soon. “King, when he’s done, the two of you move him into the library for me.”
“I can help,” Dain said. He got no more than a step closer before Deacon’s glare froze him in place.
“You are getting nowhere near him. You can take your team member and get the hell out of my house before I lose my shit. Ignorance I can forgive,” he said, “but not lying. I asked you if there was anything else I needed to know, and you both assured me there wasn’t.”
Sydney lay quietly against his chest, her tiny hands clutching his bare shoulders. He laid a hand on her back and realized she was shaking. He should get her out of here, get her away, but his options were limited and he had to think about Fionn. For now the safest place for Sydney was in his arms where he could protect her from everything but the anger frothing inside him.
“I can explain, Deacon.”
The resignation in Elliot’s voice told him she held out little hope that he’d let her. She was right.
“Get. Out.”
Saint came to his side. “Doc’s on his way.”
Deacon nodded, never taking his eyes off Dain and Elliot. “Let’s go.”
King and Saint maneuvered Fionn into a fireman’s carry over King’s shoulder. Dain and Elliot watched, unmoving, as they moved toward the door. Deacon knew both men gave their team members a look from the way they flinched. Dain’s lips tightened as Deacon moved past them, Sydney on the hip opposite where they stood.
“You need to let me explain, Deacon.”
Elliot. He pushed open the door, refusing to turn around and meet her eyes. “The time for explanations was five days ago in Jack’s office, Ms. Smith.”
“Even after last night?” she asked quietly, the words barely reaching him. “After what we—”
He rounded on her, and whatever she saw in his eyes shut her up. “Last night was a lie just like everything else about you, I’m sure. I’m done with your lies and with you. Is that clear enough?”
Elliot’s blank expression revealed nothing. He wasn’t sure if he was glad or not—part of him wanted to hurt her, wound her as much as she’d wounded him. Part of him wanted to choke her with his bare hands for putting his child at risk. And part of him, some deep, hidden, traitorous part, searched avidly for any sign of the emotions they’d shared for so few hours in her bed. He wouldn’t give any of those parts freedom.
“Daddy?” Sydney whispered against his neck.
He rubbed a hand across her shoulders, at the same time drilling Elliot with his gaze. “I said, is that clear?”
Elliot’s mouth pinched, then relaxed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He turned and walked through the door, praying for once that Elliot Smith would do as she was told. Because if he saw her again, got his hands on her, he didn’t know which part of him would win.
