See No Evil by Allison Brennan Page B

at Dillon. Dark circles framed Emily’s pale green eyes that were so much like Matt’s it was like looking into Julia’s brother’s soul. Tears clouded Julia’s vision as she remembered how she and Matt had depended on each other for everything. Their parents had one social obligation after another. Chandlers needed to maintain the act. They hid grandpa’s drinking and much, much worse. Image was more important than substance. Both her parents had affairs, but they were discreet. As long as the press didn’t know, as long as the image was clean, they could do anything they wanted.
    Matt had been the one who took care of the Chandler Foundation. He went into the business because
someone
in the family had to and he had a knack for numbers. Matt protected her when she shunned her heritage and decided to use her law degree for public service instead of protecting the family name. Her mother never forgave her, would have disowned her if the trust had allowed it.
    Matt understood and made sacrifices for the family so Julia wouldn’t have to. Julia needed to get away from the house, the money, the image and find herself and her own dreams. Julia accepted the good and the bad that came with forging her own path. She wasn’t always happy, but she was free to make her own choices. She’d given up a lot to do so, maybe too much. Because if being free meant losing Emily, none of it was worth it.
    Dillon gave Emily a half smile. “Hi, Emily. I’m Dr. Dillon Kincaid. We need to talk.”
    Julia unconsciously leaned forward, her left hand on the window, aching to touch her niece. She could hear everything, although the voices sounded slightly tinny through the small speaker.
    Emily’s eyes showed fear and skepticism. How could a person so young have so much negative emotion?
    “Do you know where you are?” Dillon asked.
    “Hospital.” Her voice was rough and Dillon offered her some water through a straw. He adjusted her bed so she could sit up.
    “How are you feeling?”
    “Like shit.” Her voice cracked. She was trying to put on a front, but Julia saw the pain in her eyes.
    “You drank a lot last night.”
    “I guess.” She drank some more water. “You’re a doctor?” She was looking at Dillon suspiciously.
    He nodded. “A psychiatrist.”
    “Great.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “Just what I need, another shrink.”
    “I need to ask you some questions. It’s important.”
    The door opened behind Julia and relief washed through her when Connor Kincaid walked into the ward.
    Connor’s collar-length black hair was damp from a recent shower, and along with the chip on his shoulder and bad attitude, he brought into the room a rich, clean fragrance of soap, raw masculinity, and a quick glance that saw everything. He caught Julia’s eye and her pulse quickened.
    She turned to focus on Emily. “Thank you,” Julia said quietly.
    “I’m here for her, not you,” said Connor.
    “I know.” She told herself she didn’t care.
    Connor stood next to her, his presence almost overpowering. He was the biggest of the Kincaid brothers—broader, taller, darker. Dillon Kincaid had the Irish good looks of his father—brown hair, blue eyes, and fair skin—while Connor had the dark good looks of his Cuban mother—and the hot-blooded temper of his combined Irish and Latin genes.
    It was all Julia could do to stand still. So she focused on Emily and reminded herself that Connor Kincaid hated her and was only here because Emily needed help.
    Dillon was speaking in the adjoining room. “Emily, I’m here to help.”
    She shook her head. “No one can help me.” How could she sound so full of anguish and defeat? Julia stepped closer to the window. Had Emily really tried to kill herself?
    “I can help. Your aunt Julia hired an attorney to protect your rights and interests. I’m part of that. So anything you say to me is between you and me. And”—he motioned toward the window—“your aunt. If you want me to,