“When you’re around that guy, you’re a totally different person. I’m just wondering which version of you is real.”
She looked away. “I can be whomever I need to be.”
“Clearly,” I said with a snort. “But who the fuck areyou?”
“If you haven’t figured that out by now, I can’t help you.” She sounded irritated, like she couldn’t believe I’d even ask. Like I didn’t have the goddamn right to know.
The woman was unreal. Frustrated, I threw my hands in the air. “So… you don’t know, either?”
“Sure. We can go with that. Fine. I don’t know who I am. Whatever makes you feel better, Hound.”
And now she was placating me. She obviously didn’t want to argue, but I needed answers. Changing tactics, I said, “I can’t believe you’re gonna stay at his house.”
She eyed me. “Funny. He voiced the same concerns about me staying with a bunch of bikers.”
“Veterans,” I corrected. “And we potentially put ourselves at risk by taking you in. We help people. It’s not like we’re one-percenters or something.”
“Like what?”
“One-percenters. Bikers who commit crimes and engage in illegal activities. Everything we do is on the up and up. Why are you staying at his house?”
“If you were eavesdropping enough to home in on that little gem, I’m sure you overheard the reason as well.” Her gaze darted away again.
“Kitten sitting?”
“Bingo.”
“Bullshit. I don’t buy it.”
She gave me another shrug. “Cool. It has nothing to do with you, so…”
I’d had enough of her half-truths and blasé attitude and needed real answers. Grabbing her by the wrist, I drew her to a stop, facing me. “What the fuck did I do to you?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what’s up? Why are you locking me out?” She started shaking her head, but I cut her off. “And don’t deny it. At least respect me enough to tell me the goddamn truth.”
That gained us a few looks from people walking by, but in true Seattle style, they kept walking.
Mila frowned. “I just don’t want to complicate things between us.”
That didn’t make a lick of sense. “So, you’re avoiding me?”
“I’m going back to Ottawa soon.”
Was that why she was pulling away? Why she was afraid to open up to me? “They still haven’t found the killer.”
“I don’t care. I can’t stay here.”
“Because of me?” I asked, confused. But why else couldn’t she stay? As far as I could tell, her relationship with me was the only thing that had changed. We’d had sex, once, and now she was willing to put herself back in danger to get away from me?
She sighed. “Because of a lot of things. Look, there’s so much shit you don’t know about me.”
“Then tell me,” I pleaded. “For fuck’s sake, just be real with me.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know. You think you do, but you don’t.”
She tried to turn away, but I held firm, refusing to let her go. “Try me.”
