Page 167 of The Darkest Chase

So here I am, deflecting again.

“No. I’m not good with people. Especially people in a fragile state.” I catch her hand, squeezing tight, but also free my keys so I can unlock my car and pull the door open. “I promise you I’m fine. I’m going to clock my time early and head home to see if I can get into his account. I’ll drop you at the shop on the way.”

Her fingers tangle with mine.

She’s holding on desperately now. I wish like hell she could see it.

I’m already corrupting her.

I’m no fucking good.

Why can’t she figure it out?

“Can I come with you?” she asks. “I guess I just need to see it with my own eyes. So I know.”

I hesitate, but if I say no, she’ll feel like I’m avoiding her.

“Sure,” I say.

Guess that’s not convincing enough. Her face falls and she pulls her hand away. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it,” I promise, reaching for her hand again, pulling her in close and kissing her forehead. “C’mon. You went through all this trouble to steal that camera. Let’s go find out what was on it.”

For a moment, she leans into me, but the silence remains. It’s just as troubled when she pulls away and walks to the passenger side of the car. I feel like I should say something, but I don’t know where to begin.

Talia’s finally figuring out I’m not her perfect dirty fantasy.

Not this wise fairy-tale beast who always knows what to say, how to thrill her, how to guard her heart.

I’m a broken man—a fucking imposter—and there’s only one way this ends for anyone who gets too close.

It’s silent as a grave on the drive back to my house. In the past, we enjoyed our easy silences that we didn’t need to fill with mindless chatter, but now the quiet feels tense.

Empty.

It feels like the silence that falls over a forest when there’s an apex predator moving through, everything small and frightened, waiting for the threat to pass by.

I hate it.

I also don’t know what to do about it, so I hold my tongue.

When we pull up at my place, a loud bark echoes from inside. A second later, the curtains in the front windows bunch up as Rolf’s head pops up under them.

He stares eagerly out the window, his big tongue rolling.

Talia laughs, some of her tension easing. “That dog really loves you.”

“He’s just hoping I brought some treats,” I mutter.

It’s just an offhand comment, but it makes her go still anyway.

She looks at me strangely. What did I say now?

“You really do see love as transactional, don’t you?”

“I…” I freeze.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

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