Page 22 of Dark Reasons

"You don'tneed to know,"he growls, dropping his fork in his food. "Thanks to your fumbling, the perfect system I work in is already corrupted enough. I'm not going to give you extra leverage."

"You're worried I'll use this stuff against you?"

He narrows his eyes into thin slits. "You're capable of it."

"Come on," I laugh, though it sounds... fake. I try again—a little better that time. "I just hate being in the dark. I don't have a reason to try and blackmail you."

"But you do, Selena." Cocking his head, he considers me for a moment that stretches uncomfortably. I shift in my chair, resisting the urge to drink more water, like doing so would give him a win. "I saw it in your face in the car."

"Saw what?" I whisper.

"Your rage. Your fury. Your desperation. You'd do anything...anything...to avenge your friend. Am I wrong?"

My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth. I clear my throat, turning away to avoid seeing him. "No," I admit.

"It's important for you to understand thatIunderstand how deep your motives go."

I peer back over my shoulder curiously. "And your motives?"

He smiles wryly. "I don't have any. Just a job to do."

Scanning the piles of food, I wave my arm over them. "Feeding me has nothing to do with your job. Why do something nice for me like this?"

"I didn't want to listen to your stomach rumble all night."

"Please," I scoff.

Jamison nods over at the abandoned packet on my counter. "There was no way I was eating boxed mac n cheese."

"You could have gotten yourself something without me knowing."

He hunches over his carton, hands resting in his lap. "Leaving you alone for that long would be dangerous."

I knot my brow tight. "What could I do here?"

"Talk to someone on the phone that you refuse to name." He arches his brows, reading my reaction. I do my best to keep my expression blank. "Was it the police?"

Tossing my hair, I let out the most condescending laugh I'm capable of. "Don't be an idiot."

"Selena," he says, waiting for me to look at him again. "We need to trust each other. Isn't that what you want?"

He's speaking in a low tone. One meant to convince me he's right, and I'm wrong. But I'm not so gullible. "I'm not showing you my phone. Forget it."

Jamison props his chin on his fist, his frown tight as a drum skin. "Then we'll both keep our share of secrets. Finish eating before it gets cold."

I do what he says, but not because he said it. Together we eat quietly. Sometimes he checks his phone, other times I glance at mine. It's the most awkward meal I've ever had in my life.

I'm not the one with the lion's share of secrets,I think miserably.You're the one keeping me in the dark on every question I ask. Even basic shit, like why you bought me food.I can't shake the idea that Jamison went out of his way because he felt bad for me.

He saw my shitty apartment and that was that.

Thinking of him pitying me has me clutching my fork painfully tight.I don't owe him a thank you. He's robbing me blind.

"You asked me what I'd do in your shoes," he says. I jolt upwards in my chair and stare at him. "I think I'd leave the city. Go somewhere far away and just lie low."

"For how long?" I ask.

Jamison tilts his head, mulling it over. "A year should do."

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