Page 110 of Chaotic Curse
I can’t answer.And I hate that I can’t.Because I hate Hernando Reyes as much as Hawk does.Probably more.
A small silence grows between us.I hear him breathe.I hear myself breathe.The car’s AC whirs.
“Dani,” he says finally, softer.“I can put people on Jordan.Quietly.I can move Reyes out of the barn and into something cleaner.I can?—”
“Cleaner?”I swallow a humorless laugh.“This isn’t aboutoptics.”
He’s quiet.The weight of it lands.I hear it hit him.
“I don’t want your protection like this,” I say.“Not if the price is you.”
“Dani—”
“I can’t do this on the phone,” I say.“And I can’t do it at all if you won’t listen.”
“I’m listening.”
“Then hear me,” I say.“Hire a PI.Cut the rope.Step back.”
He doesn’t answer.
I stare at the windshield until the world blurs.“Say something.”
“I can’t promise that,” he says.
“That’s not good enough.”
“I know.”
It breaks something cleanly inside me.No jagged edge.Just a snap.
“Then don’t call me,” I say.“Not until you can.”
“Dani—”
I end the call.
The phone screen goes black.My reflection is small and wrecked in the glass.
I set it face down on the passenger seat.The tears come hard and fast, hot tracks down my cheeks.I press my forehead to the wheel and let it happen.
No gasping.No drama.Just a steady, ugly cry that I can’t stop.
I cry until the tightness in my chest loosens and the ache under my ribs dulls.I swipe my cheeks with the heel of my hand and stare at nothing.
I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know how to love a man who will burn himself to keep me warm.
I don’t know how to let him.
I don’t know how to watch him turn into someone he isn’t, or maybe someone he always was.How would I even know?I barely know him.
I get back onto the road.
And I drive.
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