Simon let out a half-annoyed, half-frustrated grunt and rushed away. Shanna had half a second to start saying, “Uh, Si—” before the bond yanked her after him. She ran through the door to the outside garden, where Simon had leaned his forehead on the wall, his hands, still clenched in fists, at the level of his head.
She stopped as far away as the bond allowed her. Should she try to console him? What could she even say? That she didn’t want to believe Chris, either, but the girl had no reason to lie, no reason to pick one person over another—especially when she didn’t know who Everett was until Simon told her?
And Everett being Simon’s trusted friend didn’t exclude him from betrayal. Weren’t the people you loved always the ones who hurt you the most? None of Shanna’s friends forgetting her ever hurt as much as Mom leaving her.
She approached slowly, hugging her midriff. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your pity,” he ground out, still staring at the wall.
“I’m not pitying you. I said I’m sorry because you don’t deserve a friend betraying you like that.”
“I don’t know why I expected anything different. In the end, I never mattered. Just what I represented, and what I created.” He turned his head to the side, revealing the slight bit of redness in his eyes. “He stood beside me until he got an opportunity to strike and take Aries from me.”
You matter, she wanted to say.You matter to me.But with his fists clenched and teeth bared, Simon still reminded her of aferal cat, looking only to defend itself. Any words of solace would be lost. He needed answers. He needed revenge, not love, and she could only give him the latter.
With another grunt, he pushed off the wall and stormed back inside, Shanna on his heels.
“Your meeting was a few days ago, and you weren’t there,” he said to Chris. “He also doesn’t have proof of my death, so he’ll know something is up.”
“He’ll probably think I chickened out. He didn’t pay me most of the money yet, and he assumes I don’t know who he is, so I imagine he won’t bother with me.”
“But he still needs to finish the job.” Simon sat back down. The vulnerable man Shanna had seen only moments ago was gone; there was only determination in the slope of his eyebrows and the firm line of his mouth, and a cold, focused gleam in his eyes. “He has a plan, and he’s going through with it. Telling people I’m dead because he expects in a short time, I will be.”
“You think he knows where you are?” Shanna asked.
Simon briefly glanced at her, then went back to Chris. “How did you find me in the first place?”
“He gave me the info to a location in Montana. But when I got there, the house was empty. I asked and some neighbor said you”—she looked at Shanna—“left that morning, with a man, to go to your grandma.” She lowered her eyes to the floor. “I faked crying and he told me the address and even gave me money for transportation.”
“But how did he know—” Shanna started.
“I called the entire company, remember?” Simon said. “Everett included. Multiple times. He could’ve tracked the phone before it broke the next day.” His chuckle came out full of anger. “And he dared to claim it was a prank. He blocked me. He told everyone else not to listen to me—he was supposed to be the one who helped me, and he screwed me over!”
“You’re still alive, though,” Chris said.
“And while I am, he’s not getting away with it.”
“We should go back,” Shanna said.
“No.” He leaned back in his chair. “We can’t even be in separate rooms right now because of this.” He waved his tattooed wrist. “Everett can’t find me here, but he has more ways to pick up my scent once I’m back in San Francisco. He’ll send another assassin after me. And I won’t have you in danger, what with us being attached at the hip.”
Shanna blinked away the few tears welling up. She wanted to hug him, tell him how much it meant that he thought of her like that, and how much he meant to her, but he was currently all business.
“Besides, I don’t think we’re on a tight schedule,” Simon continued. “He can’t track me or Chris. It won’t make a difference whether I come back tomorrow or in a week. But this”—he pointed at the tattoo—“does matter.”
“We need to break it.” Not only because Simon thought it might put her in danger. The tattoo—her vicinity—puthimin danger. Who needed more accidents on top of already being hunted by a killer? And who needed a woman running after him like a lost puppy while he tried to get his life back in order?
Simon gave her a grim nod. “Let’s pack up.” While they walked upstairs, he pulled out his phone and tapped away. “It’s a roundabout way to Milford Sound, but we can make it with an overnight stop.”
“It will help to breathe a bit. Take some time.”
“Yes.” He still looked distracted, though, zipping around his room, packing up his stuff without much order or logic.
“Simon.” She tentatively laid her hand on his forearm first, to stop him. When he didn’t pull away, she enveloped him in a hug.
“It’ll be all right,” she said.You matter. You matter to me.And even though she didn’t say the words out loud, and he said nothing back, he stayed in that embrace.
And for now, that was enough.
