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“Yes?”
“What are you doing all the way over there?”
His voice had softened now. She didn’t understand him. Back and forth. Hard and cold to soft and gentle.
It was confusing and made her head hurt.
And what did he mean all the way over there? She’d only taken a few steps, glancing around her, she saw that she was pressed up against the front door.
Oh.
How had she moved that far without noticing?
“I, um, well . . . ”
“You keep thinking that I’ll hurt you, don’t you? That I’m like your father.”
Well. No.
She didn’t think that exactly. But he could be scary. And he was mad at her.
And in her experience that tone of voice usually led to being yelled at, put down, and sometimes slapped around.
God. She wished she were stronger than this.
That she could stand up for herself.
Perhaps she really did need to get some of those things he’d talked about. Mace was probably a good idea.
“I’m doing a terrible job of convincing you not to be scared of me, aren’t I?”
Wait. Was that regret in his voice?
Her father had never regretted anything he did. Even if he later found out he was in the wrong. He just ignored that and kept going.
But Regent actually sounded apologetic.
She didn’t know how to deal with it. She wasn’t prepared for a man who knew how to be sorry.
“I, um . . .”
“I didn’t mean to make it sound like I only care because you live in this house and protect one of our secrets,” he said hastily.
Wait. What?
“We’re friends, aren’t we? And friends look out for one another.”
He was looking out for her as a friend?
“And friends don’t scare their friends. I apologize for that. I wasn’t upset with you; I was upset with myself.”
Friends don’t scare their friends?
Sounded like something you should learn in kindergarten.
Then his words hit her with the force of a freight train.
“I . . . I . . . you apologize?”
