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“But luck works in mysterious ways…” I closed my eyes for a moment, tapping into that endless knowing within me, letting it guide what I said. “I think…I think my luck drew me here. Drew me to you. To the jewels. I think—”
“Enough,” he snarled. “Stop it.”
I didn’t flinch this time at his scolding.
I saw it for what it was.
Agony.
I overflowed with druggy forgiveness.
He’d killed for me. Twice.
Because of him, I hadn’t been raped or mutilated.
He’s good.
Peter was right.
He saw that light.
It’s still there.
I pointed at the dinged-up watch on his wrist, needing to make him snap.
His eyes followed my finger, his shoulders stiffening.
“Why do you get all sad when you look at your watch?”
He gritted his teeth and moved farther down the bed, smearing cream on my thighs.
No reply.
I longed for his secretive whispers.
I craved for him to speak.
“Tell me,” I urged.
Nothing.
“I gave you a piece of my past—”
Still nothing.
“Do you miss her?”
His eyebrows flew into his hair. “What?”
Finally.
I kept digging, deliberately stabbing him with memories.
“Your mother. Do you miss her?”
He choked and shook his head. “How…how could you possibly know she gave this to me?”
The drugs in my system made me float. “My magical powers of deduction?” I winked. The room spun. My heart thudded sleepily, making my tongue far too loose. “Someone you loved gave you that watch. I can tell because that love lives in your eyes when you look at it. It can’t be your dad, and you said you haven’t had much success in relationships, so…it must’ve been your mum.”
