Page 76 of Into These Eyes
Hearing his name on her lips again contracts every muscle in my body. I put my own hands under the table before I smash something and terrify her. I prefer she doesn’t witness the hatred that lives dormant inside me until his name is mentioned. Not after the fear I saw in her eyes last time it snuck out.
“What made you call him?” I simply ask.
When she finally meets my eyes, hers widen. Her posture straightens. She even leans back a little. She sees it. I can’t hide it no matter how hard I try. It’s in my body, my eyes, my soul. And she sees right into me. She came here asking for my help because she’s scared. Now I’m the one she’s afraid of.
But she doesn’t run away. She sits there and faces me.
“It’s just … my father always thought he was a great guy.” She scoffs at the irony of that statement. “I thought he should know that Dad had died … and about his confession.” She swallows, glances at the threat, then back at me. “I … You have to remember, when I called him, I had no idea I was talking to a man who deliberately buried a crucial witness. I believed I was talking to a man who’d simply missed something, who’d made a mistake. I thought he’d want to right that wrong.”
My fingers almost tear off my kneecaps. “And what did he have to say?”
“He thought my father must have been delirious. He reminded me that I sat through the trial and saw what the jury saw.”
Jesus, I wouldn’t mind betting she’d felt sorry for the fucker. Sorry that he’d have to own up to a mistake. No wonder she froze that day I told her about Liam.
I need to hit something, move, run, expend this energy that desperately needs out. Instead, I stare at the piece of paper between us for a long moment.
When I lift my gaze to hers, I see a strong, independent woman who’s afraid to go home. It twists my gut, and the need to protect her becomes so strong, it overpowers the hatred.
“So, you think Reid put this under your door.” It’s not a question.
“I can’t be sure. But he knows where I live. And that I know he screwed up. I never told him I was planning on doing anything about it. But … when he told me to put it behind me, I hung up on him. Then I blocked his number.”
“Fuck.” I slide out from behind the table, take one stride over to the sink and grip the warm stainless-steel. Letting my head drop, I take deep breaths. I need to calm the fuck down.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“I’m not angry with you,” I grit out, rubbing at the back of my neck. “It’s …him. It’sme.”
“You?”
“If it’s Reid, then I’m the reason for that threat. Because you’re helpingme.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” she snaps.
As I stare through the grimy window, I hear her moving behind me.
“I should never have told you. You don’t need this on top of everything else.” Her vulnerable tone doesn’t just tug at my heart, but threatens to rip it from my chest.
I turn to find her standing a foot away, her shoes on, handbag over her shoulder, the menacing note nowhere to be seen.
She’s leaving.
Ready to return home. Alone. Where she doesn’t feel safe.
Every molecule, every cell, every beat of my heart demands I go with her, protect her. But the memory of Benny’s reaction when I revealed I wanted to put his plan on hold surfaces with a sting. He needs my support and loyalty. And if that involvesbeing here for him every day, well, I don’t think that’s too much to ask.
But how do I choose between the man who taught me how to survive on the inside and the woman who wants to give me my life back on the outside?
Thunder cracks overhead, startling us both.
With her gaze firmly plastered to my chest, she says, “I better get going before the rain hits.” Then she’s gone, the door slapping shut behind her.
I stare at the empty space she occupied, my heart caught in a vice, my gut in knots. I’ve hurt her, let her down, right after she called me her friend. She hadn’t even wanted to tell me that what she really needs is my protection.
Bolting out the door, I catch up to her short but fast strides. Thunder booms overhead again, the downdraft swirling up dust, leaves and the odd bit of rubbish. When I place my hand on the small of her back, she speeds up. I’d like to think it’s to avoid the storm, but I know the truth.
“Jamie. Wait.”
