Page 39 of Finding Amanda

"Yeah, Mark. I'm not an idiot."

He yanked his sweatshirt off and tossed it onto the sofa beside him, revealing a fitted navy blue T-shirt. "Man, it's hot in here."

"Yeah, well, I don't have to keep it at sixty-five anymore, do I?"

He closed his lips tightly.

She braced herself, waiting for some cutting remark.

"Nope. I guess not." He seemed to fight to don a mild expression." I don't think you're an idiot. I think you don't see the danger. You're worried Sheppard might manipulate you? I'm worried he might try to shut you up. Permanently."

"You don't know him. He's not violent."

"The gentlest dogs in the world, when backed into a corner, will fight their way out. By publishing this memoir, you'rebacking him into a corner. And I wouldn't describe him as gentle. Subtle, maybe, but with people like him, when subtlety doesn't work . . . Let's just say he's used to getting what he wants."

"You've never even met him."

"I read your memoir. Was it true?"

"Of course it was true! What are you trying to say?"

He sat back and lowered his head to the sofa cushion. "It wasn't an accusation." With a puff of cheeks, he exhaled a long sigh. "I'm saying you're naïve. You fell for this guy, and even now you're not willing to accept that he might be dangerous. And that's okay—I understand you had feelings for him once. I know it's hard for you to see past that. But I'm telling you, he's dangerous, and I don't want you to get hurt."

She would have argued with him, but she could almost feel the way Gabriel's hands had squeezed her thighs in the hotel lobby only a few days earlier. The memory choked off the words.

"You have to consider the possibility that this wholeaccidentalmeeting”—Mark used air quotes to frame the wordaccidental—“was orchestrated by Sheppard to convince you not to publish it."

She tried to relax her thumping heart. "It doesn't matter, Mark. Even if he has someone feeding him information about me, it doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?"

"Why did you join the Marines?"

He cocked his head to the side. A moment later, he smirked. "That was different."

"You joined the Marines to fight for your country. You put your life on the line because you thought the cause was worth it. Well, maybe I think this cause is worth it. Gabriel needs to be stopped. Who knows how many other young girls he's taken advantage of over the years."

"You're saying this is about justice?"

"Exactly."

Mark slid across the long sectional, reached out, and took her hand. Gently, he said, "This isn't about justice, it's about revenge."

"No, that's not true." She heard the doubt in her own words. Was he right?

"You're not going to find what you're looking for in revenge."

"I told you?—"

"Or in justice. You're seeking peace, but this isn't the way to find it. Believe me, I've had my share of regrets." His eyes darkened, seemed to reflect a sorrow she couldn't place. He turned toward the wall. When he shifted his gaze back to her, the haunted look was gone. "Revenge, regret—these things won't bring you peace."

"I'm not looking for peace." Her words were too harsh. She started over in a softer tone. "I just need to know Gabriel can't hurt anyone else. Why can't you understand that?"

"And then you think you'll be at peace."

"And then . . . it doesn't matter how I feel. I have to do this, to protect other girls."

"What aboutourgirls? They need you." He squeezed her hand. "I need you."

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