“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked after a minute.
“Trying to find the truth.”
“I told you the truth!”
His lips crooked up into an annoying smirk. “When are you going to stop lying to me, Ms. Warren?”
Clara sat back, suddenly afraid, unsure of what he meant and where this conversation was going.This isn’t the next step.She pressed her palms into his thighs.He’s going to drop me. I’m damaged goods. My scars.A hundred thoughts streamed through her head in a single moment, none of them good.What if the surgery didn’t work?
When she didn’t answer, he answered for her. “Who’s Marsha Tannett?”
Clara opened her mouth then promptly closed it.Why am I not surprised?“She’s a cop helping me with a predicament.”There.“Can we talk about the next steps?”
“What predicament?” he snapped and leaned forward.
“A small one that’s being handled,” she shot back in response. “It’s none of your business!”
“It became my business the moment you parked your ancient, moldering hovercraft in my parking lot. It was definitely my business when you stepped through the front doors and it was very much my business when you sat your ass in my office and withheld it from me, Ms. Warren. This. Is. Not. A. Fucking. Sanctuary.”
Her breath left her but her rising annoyance bubbled into anger. “So that’s it?”
His jaw ticked. “What’s it?”
“You’re kicking me out. This,” she waved her hand between them, “is over?” She stood up to leave. If she was fixed, then she could go out and have a child on her own. She’d just have to be immensely more careful.I don’t even know why I thought this would work.
She made it to the door, her hand on the handle, her heart pounding from her chest, but resolved to let one more disappointment not break her.
The moment she opened the door, it slammed back into place. Clara went still, her eyes wide, staring at the hand that bent a groove into the metal wall. Reid’s fingers curled inward until his outstretched hand became a fist.
“Clara.”
She licked her lips and didn’t move, didn’t open her mouth, and tried to stop her heart from beating.
“Sit your ass back down.”
Reid removed his hand and the alarming entrapment vanished. She swallowed, memorizing the striations of the bent metal wall, and robotically turned around and sat back down.He’s very strong.It took everything in her power to raise her eyes to his but he wasn’t looking at her. He stood behind his desk, bent over, his fingers spread wide with tension, as though they were the only thing holding him back.
Clara rung her hands and expected to see electrical jolts leave his fingertips.
“Please...” she said at last and he looked at her. He nodded once and lifted his hands away, leaving imprints behind.
“You’re not going anywhere, Clara.”
She swallowed and squeezed her hands. “Okay.”
“Marsha, your predicament handler, came to see me.”
“In person...?”
“She came to find you the other day when you were recovering from surgery.” Reid sighed, the air about him cooling rapidly. “Her gir—”
“—she made it past all the security?” Clara looked behind her, her eyes darting back over the office, the closed door, and the tall, narrow windows that let in jail bar-like light through half the space. That strange creeping sense ran over her like molasses, the kind of sense she tried to avoid at all costs.If she made it through... can Santino make it through?
“Sheisa cop,” Reid said dryly. Their eyes met again. “Does her making it through surprise you?”
“No,” Clara lied. “But leaving Pecos and traveling through the wastelands does.” A thought occurred to her. “Is she still here? Can I talk to her?”
She noticed Reid hadn’t moved, not a muscle, a twitch, a fiber, but the color of his irises changed. Sometimes they went dark, shadowy, and it reminded her of the patrol dog that comforted her.
