Page 61 of Betrayed

I hated seeing her puffy, bloodshot eyes and wished there was something I could do to take her pain away. I’d suffer a thousand deaths if it’d ensure she never had a reason to cry again.

“Why don’t they know the real you?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t really care.”

“I do care, Blake.”More than I can ever tell you. I repeated the question.

“They only know the me I'm supposed to show them.”

The image of the perfect politician’s daughter couldn’t be easy to maintain.

“Hang on one second, okay?” I asked. When her eyes rounded in shock before lowering in disappointment, I added, “I’ll be right back.”

I sprinted out of the room and returned with a box of tissues and a bottle of water.

“Here you go.”

This time, the expression in her eyes was shock and gratitude.

“Thank you.”

“Why do you hide who you are?” I’d seen glimpses of the real Blake, and I liked her better.

Loved her, even.

“I’ve been told all my life who I should be, how I should act, what I should wear.” She ran her hand through her hair, exposing the strip of pink. “I got in trouble when I dyed my hair, even though it’s mostly hidden.”

It sounded ridiculous to me that her parents would be upset about a little hair dye, especially since it was barely visible. I’d noticed she always exposed the stripe at school, but hadn’t seen how she wore her hair at home. Thinking back, her pink stripe wasn’t visible in the office.

I understood her feeling like she had to hide a part of herself, I'd lived it. But I wouldn't share my past with her; it was mine to carry.

Wanting to lighten the mood, I said, “I kind of like it. It’s playful.”

She was quiet for a minute before saying, “Thank you.” She turned to stare at the blinds covering the window, as if she could see the field beyond.

We sat in silence for a few minutes; her staring out the window lost in her thoughts; me watching her while lost in mine.

I understood how it felt to not live up to someone’s expectations. My father had reminded me regularly, with his fists, that I wasn’t good enough and never would be.

Understanding the conversation had ended, I didn't push. The sun was setting, and I was getting hungry so I asked, “Want me to cook some burgers?”

“That sounds good.” She gave me a weak smile, and when she lifted her eyes to mine, the only emotion I saw was gratitude.

My heart did this weird little thing where it felt like it jumped out of my chest. But I had to ignore it. Blake was grateful Ioffered to cook, not confessing her love. And certainly not asking for me to confess my love for her.

This job is going to be the death of me.

Chapter 30

Blake

Imisjudged him.The thought struck me again. Sure, he was violent when he was protecting me, but he’d been nothing but nice, and kind, and compassionate since then.

I drank half the water he’d given me before going to the bathroom to wash my face, wishing I had time to shower. A long, hot shower would help me relax.Maybe after dinner. But now I needed to eat.

The smell of ground beef filled my nose and made my stomach rumble as I walked into the kitchen. “Smells good in here.”

“Thanks.”

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