I’m terrified to say those words, to ask that from a woman who clearly doesn’t trust anyone and who doesn’t know me at all. She has no reason to open up to me except that I’m asking her to. And that might not be enough.
She watches me with her big blue eyes, her whole body trembling the longer we hold each other’s gazes.
I risk taking a few steps toward her, and when she doesn’t retreat, I close the last of the distance and take her arms in my hands. “Please. What I said about wanting to help you, about everyone here being willing to help you, is true. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
Her bottom lip quivers, and she bites it to try to stop it and prevent me from noticing, but I reach up and brush my thumb over it until she releases it.
“Don’t do that. Talk to me.”
“Why?” Her question comes out breathy and filled with her distress. “Why do you want to help me?”
“Why do you think?”
I don’t want to have to say the words because, honestly, I never have before.
I don’t know how to tell a woman that I’m basically obsessed with her. That since the moment she waltzed into the diner and accused me of stealing Gizmo, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her—day and night. That the only time she doesn’t occupy my thoughts is when I actually fall asleep and the nightmares come. That she’s been the only thing that’s kept my mind from drifting there when I’m awake, too.
I don’t know how to tell her that without making her want to run even more because it makes me sound fucking irrational.
We barely know each other.
We don’t really at all.
And yet the thought of her leaving makes me want to get in my truck and follow her wherever she goes.
That plump bottom lip that still bears the indentation from her teeth quivers. “You don’t know me, Liam.”
“I want to, if you would let me.”
She shakes her head, and her eyes start to fill with tears that she tries to blink away. “It’s better if you don’t. Safer for you.”
“Safer?” Her choice of words stiffens my spine, and I tighten my grip on her arms. Not enough to hurt her, just enough that she understands how serious I am about this. “If you’re in trouble, Lucky, tell me. I can protect you. We can protect you here. You don’t have to keep running.”
“You only say that because you don’t know.”
“Then tell me.”
She shakes her head again. “I can’t.”
Frustrated, I release her and take a step back, running my hands through my hair and focusing on Gizmo where he waits at our feet, watching our conversation as if he understands it and somehow comprehends how important it is.
“Let me ask you something.” I peer back up at her. “If you left, where would you go?”
She glances toward the door. “I had been making my way toward Charlotte.”
“What’s in Charlotte? Family?”
Why did I bother asking when I already know the answer?
She shakes her head no.
“Friends?”
Another small shake.
“Do you know anyone there?”
One more.
