AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Henry opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand, cutting him off.
"No, let me finish. You say you've been investigating, but all I've gotten are vague promises and now, conveniently, some ideas you have for finding the van. The van I was the one who told the police about. It’s awfully thin.”
“I haven’t been able to follow up yet. I got the call to come here—” He stops short as if he realizes how lame that excuse is.
“Right. Another convenience. You can’t investigate my brother because you need to publicly humiliate me first.”
"Lana, please.” Henry takes a step closer, making me wish I’d sat behind my desk, not defiantly stood in front of it. His nearness does things to me that make me weak.
"I had nothing to do with today. I'm as angry about it as you are,” he finishes.
“I can’t afford to believe you.”
Henry runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "I know how it looks, but I swear to you, I'm not playing you. What happened in there was wrong, and I'll make sure those officers are held accountable."
I search his face, looking for any sign of deception. But all I see is earnestness… or maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part. I can’t trust my own judgment around him anymore.
"I don't know what to believe.” I hate how vulnerable I sound, and that makes me angry. I lift my chin, showing him that he can’t manipulate me. “I’m sticking to my belief that this is all just a game to you, a way to get information on my family."
The hurt in Henry's eyes looks genuine, but I can't let myself be swayed. Not again. I've been fooled too many times, and the stakes are too high.
Henry takes a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I know how it looks, but I'm telling you the truth. I want to find out what happened to Lazaro. For you, Lana."
I laugh bitterly. "For me? This is how you show you care about me?” I'm desperate to protect myself from the dangerous hope he's stirring in me. "I'm not falling for it anymore. I won’t help you put me or my family in prison."
Henry's hand on my cheek sends a jolt through my body. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and without knowing it, I lean into it.
"The last thing I want is to see you imprisoned.” His voice is low and intense. "Haven't you been listening to me at all? Do you really think everything between us has been a lie?"
I want to pull away, to maintain the walls I’ve been working so hard to keep erected in this exchange. But Henry's eyes hold mine, and my defenses start crumbling.
"I…" My words catch in my throat.
"Tell me, Lana." Henry’s thumb brushes my cheek. "Do you feel anything for me? Anything at all?"
As I stand there, caught in Henry's gaze, I'm forced to confront the truth. There is something more than just my hoping to get information from him. Something that terrifies me with its intensity.
"I don't know what I feel." It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth, either. I do feel something for Henry, something that goes beyond physical attraction.
His smile is soft, even sweet. “Yes, you do. You feel this too, I know you do. I know that you’re afraid to feel it, just like I am. But pretending it isn’t there won’t make it stop.”
I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions surging through me. When I open them again, I see the vulnerability in Henry's expression, mirroring my own.
“Whether I feel something or not, it doesn’t matter. I can’t trust it… trust you. Not after what just happened.”
“It does matter, Lana. It matters the most.” He moves even closer, too close. His gaze drops to my lips, and I know he’s going to kiss me. I should push him away. Slap him. But I don’t. Instead, when his lips touch mine, warm and insistent, I melt into him. I kiss him back, my hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. All the tension and anger from earlier dissolves, replaced by a desperate need to be closer to him.
“Tell me you believe me,” he murmurs against my lips.
"I want to. God help me, I really do.”
“I’ll take that, for now.” His hands wrap around me, holding me close as his lips consume mine in a kiss that sets my wholebody on fire. For a brief moment, I let myself get lost in the heat of the moment, needing this to steady my nerves.
His hands wander, exploring my body, making me ache for more of his touch. My fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt, holding him to me as if our lives depend on it.
Without breaking the kiss, Henry backs me up against my desk, his hands sliding up my legs as lifts the skirt of my dress. Setting me on the desk, he steps between my thighs.
“Henry, we shouldn’t?—”
