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We needed to move this along. “How does this debrief business work?” I chugged from the bottle.
“Men like your father don’t like to be left in the dark,” Constance said, a dog unwilling to give up a bone.
I almost coughed up my water at the mention of being in the dark. “Tough,” I spat. The room felt suddenly colder, and I wrapped my arms around myself. I was not reliving the darkness, the nightmare.
She continued. “Maybe if you let my boss?—”
“No.” I slammed the water bottle down harder than I should have. “A hundred times,no.”
Constance’s face contorted. Clearly, she didn’t like my answer.
Screw that. I was done, done, done with having my controlling father run things. After a calming breath, I lowered my anger level. “I’m old enough to have my own life. Your boss agreed. We keep my dad out of this. End of subject.”
Duke settled it. “Agreed.”
If Constance had a problem with that, she kept it hidden.
Duke appraised me for a moment and, thankfully, moved on. “Let’s start with why you think you need us.” He phrased the question just as Bill Covington had, with the implication that I was a neurotic, scared woman seeing nonexistent threats around every corner.
I felt my face reddening and stabbed my finger against the table, done with men not taking me seriously. “I don’t think. Iknow. I was intentionally run off the road, and the guy wanted information about a USB stick he thought I had. He threatened to kill me. He would’ve torched my car to finish the job if some Good Samaritan hadn’t come along and interrupted him.”
“Take it easy,” Constance urged. “Give us facts.”
I ramped up my volume. “Fact one: he fucking ran me off the road.” I shivered. “Fact two: the car ended upside down. I was trapped inside with gasoline leaking. Fact three: he started down the hill with a cigarette lighter in his hand, not a cell phone to call nine-one-one. No, a fucking lighter. He planned to roast me.” I couldn’t stop trembling.
Duke reached over and placed his massive hand over mine. “Serena, we believe you.”
I looked over at Constance, and she nodded.
The soothing quality of Duke’s voice contrasted with the zing of electricity his touch sent through me. The crush I’d had for him flared back to life like a smoldering fire fed fresh oxygen.
“Serena,” he added, holding my eyes captive with his piercing gray ones. “I’ll keep you safe. We’ll keep you safe.” He didn’t let go of my hand. “But we have to ask all the questions, the hard ones, the stupid ones, and the insulting ones.”
I nodded, gripping his hand like a lifeline. “Well, you got the insulting part right. Now let me help you with a stupid one. I didn’t cut anyone off, tailgate, or anything. This wasn’t road rage. I didn’t flip anyone off.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Somehow, his two words calmed me. “If it was you…” I looked between the two of them. “Would you choose the safe house?” Had I been too quick to dismiss it?
Constance deferred to Duke.
“You want the truth?” he asked.
I nodded. When our eyes connected, I saw the same kind eyes from years ago—and something else. I knew he was one of the rare men I could trust.
“Once you start running from your fear, you’re condemned to be on the run forever. You have to face it as best you can, because the alternative is never being free of it.”
Constance nodded silently.
His answer was different, but eerily similar to my therapist’s advice.
I took a breath. “What would you like to know?”
Constance started. “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you?”
“No.” That wasn’t precisely correct, but Harvey Fox had been locked up in jail for years.
“Did you see his face?” Duke asked. “The man who attacked you?”
