Page 48 of Devil
He sighed. “What’s going on, Lily?”
“What do you mean?”
She flickered a look at him in time to see him raise a brow. “Are you going to pretend that you haven’t been short with me since you saw my wound?”
It wasn’t worth denying, and she tilted her head in acknowledgment. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Bullshit. Not that you don’t,” he added hastily when she shot him a look. “But that isn’t why the queen of cool is back.”
At his words, her stomach churned. Was that really how he thought of her? Then again, should she be surprised that he did? She wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but just because she didn’t show her emotions, didn’t mean she didn’t have them. Something she thought he might understand by now.
“To answer your question, no, I can’t estimate how the chart might differ from real life. Not without a complex study of the virus, which I can assure you, the CDC will never let me do.”
“Lily.”
She wanted to ignore him. She’d been in this business for a long time, and working alone had never been a problem. And while she enjoyed the novelty of working with him—probably more than she should—she didnotlike the way her emotions surfaced so quickly when it came to him.
But then Six’s voice, and even Nora’s, filtered through her own thoughts. Six would tell her to embrace her emotions—all of them—and just let them happen. While Nora would tell her to be brave and to trust herself and Darius. When she started at St. Josue, her world had changed because of Cyn, Six, and Nora. But it had been mostly insular ever since. She’d grown to love and appreciate her friends, but she hadn’t expanded her circle beyond that. Joe and Gavin were creeping their way in, but even with them, she held back.
Now she faced a choice. Make a conscious decision to let Darius in. Or not. Strangely, when she thought of it in those black-and-white terms, she knew the answer. It wasn’t one she was all that excited about, but she knew her friends—and ultimately, she—would be disappointed if she decided otherwise.
She took a deep breath and answered the question he hadn’t asked. “I didn’t like that you didn’t tell me about your encounter with the intruder,” she said. And again, another odd thought hit her. She’d been avoiding thinking about his injury, and in her avoidance, she hadn’t even bothered to ask Darius if he’d learned anything. She knew he hadn’t caught up to the man, or woman, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t gathered useful information.
“And?”
She glanced over. “And what?”
“And why didn’t you like it?”
She scowled at the road, then schooled her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d scowled. “Because you were hurt and didn’t bother to tell me.”
“You already said that. Why did it upset you?” he pressed.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she snapped, then instantly regretted it. Not only did he not deserve that, allowing herself to lose control of her voice also seemed to amplify all the emotions bubbling inside her.
“You do know what I mean. You disappear behind your facade of cool when you’re facing emotions you either don’t want to deal with or don’t know how to deal with. I want to know why my being injured triggered that so that we can talk through it and resolve the issue.”
Again, she shot him a look. Was he for real? His eyes held steady on hers until she returned her attention to the road. Yes, he was for real, and he wasn’t going to let it go.
Miles ticked by fast; at ninety-five miles an hour, they tended to do that. She jerked a look over her shoulder as she changed lanes to pass another car. When the road opened in front of them, her gaze went to the far, far distance, and an odd thought struck her. Maybe relationships were a little like being on a road. You could see ahead a bit, sometimes farther ahead than others. And you either kept going, chasing the horizon as more road stretched ahead of you, or you took an exit and never made it. One path wasn’t inherently worse than the other, but there was a decision to make. Did she forge ahead and see what would come next? Or did she exit?
She may not like the way he was pushing her, but she was self-aware enough to know that at least part of her disgruntlement came from the fact that she wasn’t good at identifying, let alone talking about, her feelings. And she liked to be good at things. In being pushed into it, she was probably going to bungle around or sound crazy. On the other hand, if he didn’t push her, who would? And if she didn’t try, she’d never learn.
More miles passed as she thought about what it might be like to open herself up the way Darius expected her to. Shewouldbungle it. But would that be the worst thing in the world? She quickly glanced over at him. He was still resting his head on his hand, quietly staring out the window. Waiting for her to make a decision.
No, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. She hoped. There were no guarantees. There never were in life. But the only reason to push her on something like this was if it mattered to him, too. If he didn’t care about her—if he didn’t care about them—then he wouldn’t ask.
She glanced over again to see him close his eyes and take a deep breath. Her heart lurched at the pain he was fighting. “There’s Advil in the glove box if your head is hurting,” she said.
He met her gaze, then nodded his thanks. Opening the glove box, he found the medication and shook out a couple of pills. She handed him the water bottle she always kept in her car, and he swallowed them down.
“It felt like you thought I wasn’t worth telling about your injury,” she blurted out. And the instant the words were out, she knew she’d bungled. They didn’t make a lot of sense.
He shifted his body until his right shoulder was resting against the door and he was facing her. “Walk me through that,” he said.
She frowned. “This isn’t easy for me.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But if it’s going to get any easier, then we need to sort our way through it all. There are two people here, and we both have a role in figuring out how we communicate.”
