I wanted to pull away, to run, to scream.
No.
Fawn.
Fawn first.
Always.
I forced a small laugh. “You scared me!”
The light, the ease, the pretend ignorance of his bad intentions.
The move had worked a million times before.
My stomach flipped at needing to touch him, but my hand slid over his, resting lightly.
Gentle.
Calming.
“Frank, you’re hurting me.”
His fingers tightened.
The bruising pressure deepened.
I bit the inside of my lower lip to keep it from trembling.
“You think I didn’t see you?”
I forced the smile to spread. Small, a little confused.
My stomach sloshed.
“See me?”
“Coming out of that hotel.”
The words hit like ice water.
The chill burrowed into my bones.
Did he know?
About Milo?
About the plans?
I tilted my head slightly. Softening, soothing, doing what I always had to when he got in an uncomfortable mood.
“There’s a bar in the hotel, Frank,” I said.
A lie, wrapped up in a truth.
It normally would have worked.
But his face—
