Page 96 of Coal Hearts

He groaned. “That’s what you’re worried about?” His hand landed on my hip, flexing like a clawed paw. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for that little slip-up for the rest of my life.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I was told to buy you. To proposition your ex so he left you all alone and in my control. But the rest...the other offer I made? That was real.”

“You were told to get rid of Sam?”

“Yep.”

“By who?”

“Doesn’t matter now, it’s done.”

My heart kept pounding; my mind kept whirling, trying to unravel his secrets. “So...you did things you didn’t want to do, but the million euros you offered me was your choice?”

“Yes.”

“Because you want me for yourself? Because you noticed me?”

His eyebrows came down. “Can you honestly say you didn’t notice me back?”

Lies sharpened my tongue. I wanted to hurl falsehoods like daggers, but instead, I held his stare and tried to be as honest as he’d been. “I noticed you.”

God, why does that hurt to confess?

“I-I was drawn to you.”

“Putain, c’est la merde. (Shit, this is so fucked up.) None of this was supposed to happen. I wish you’d never been in that godforsaken club. I wish you’d never noticed me or I’d noticed you. You’d be safe, and I’d...”

When he didn’t continue, I shifted against him. “You’d...?”

“Be here. Where I’m supposed to be.”

I cocked my head, studying him like an inquisitor. Thanks to Krish and his nonverbal days, I’d gotten used to reading body language. I’d gotten rather good, but Henri...he was hard to read. Hard to pin down his true thoughts when they scattered in all directions.

For a man playing the part of a rapist, he seemed oddly...sad.

“You said you were meant to come here alone?”

He scowled. “Are we going to stand around whispering all day? They’re watching—”

“If you want me to stop fighting you, then answer the question. Help me understand.”

He huffed. “Fine. Yes. You weren’t meant to be here, and like I already said, I’m sorry for dragging you along with me. This was never meant to be your task, just mine.”

“Task?”

He hung his head, exhaustion lining his eyes. “Yes. And I’m already fucking it up.”

Everything he’d said scattered like puzzle pieces. The longer we stood there, the more the edges filled in and the colours of his confessions began to paint a picture...a blurry picture slowly coming into focus, word by word.

“Fucking what up?” I murmured.

“This!” he whisper-hissed. “You. Me. If Victor guesses who I truly am—”

“Who you truly are?” My heart pitter-pattered. “Who is that exactly?”

“Christ, not that question again.” Pressing his forehead to mine, he breathed, “I’m merely trying to do the right thing, alright? That’s all.”