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My heart races. Can he hear it? Is his racing too?
“You asked me to make love to you last night,” he says. I shift in my seat, pick up my dish to slip away. He doesn’t let me, though. “You asked me to make love to you, Blue.”
I clear my throat. My cheeks are burning.
“Look at me,” he says. I shake my head, so he takes my chin and turns my face up to his.
“You need to keep something in mind with me. I come with baggage. Too much of it. I can’tmake love. You need to make sure you remember that. Do you understand?”
I can’t hold his gaze, not when he sees me because he does see me. He sees right into my heart.
And he’s letting me know that his is off limits.
“Do you understand?” he repeats.
I nod, slip out of his grasp, and take my dish to the sink. Keeping my back to him, I switch on the water so he can’t hear me sniffle as I try hard, so fucking hard, not to cry. What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck am I thinking? What could a man like him want with a woman like me?
“You mentioned Girard,” he says once I’ve shut off the water. I search in the cabinets for a towel. I find a stack and wipe my face quickly as I steel myself to face him.
It’s a struggle to meet his gaze. I’m embarrassed. I’ve just been rejected, and we both know it.
“Blue?”
“Girard was his boss. He called Hoxton twice. He was supposed to take me to him, but he was buying time. Waiting for his brother to come so they could take what they thought they were due before delivering me to Girard.” That hardens me. That memory. My impending rape.
The doorbell rings and I startle. Zeke must be expecting it, though, because when the front door opens, he simply stands and takes his phone out.
“Zeke?” It’s Jericho. I recognize his voice.
“In here.”
Jericho and Robbie enter the kitchen. Robbie says hello then asks for a glass of water. Jericho studies me, but he doesn’t speak. I’m very aware of the thick, ugly scar on my face and wish I’d put on some makeup because he is openly taking in the damage while Zeke gets Robbie the water.
I bite the inside of my cheek and remind myself that the bruises he can see are the least of my troubles.
“Let’s talk in the study,” Zeke says. “Blue and I will be in in a minute.”
Robbie takes the cue. Jericho spends another moment studying me with those strange eyes of his, eyes that seem, like his brother’s, to see right through me. I realize I’m holding my breath only when he finally walks away.
Once we hear the study door close, Zeke speaks.
“Wren will be moved to the Margaret Stone Center in the morning. You should probably call her and talk to her. Rudy already knows.”
“Tomorrow?”
“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s just fast. I guess I didn’t expect it to go that fast.”
“I pulled some strings.”
“Thank you,” I finally say because I can’t understand this man. I can’t make heads or tails of his words, his actions, all the contradictions.
His kindnesses. His brutality.
He nods, takes out his phone and pushes a button. A moment later, Rudy answers. I’m confused. Did he take Rudy’s contact information from my phone and save it into his? Why?
“Rudy, it’s Zeke and Blue,” he says.
