“Too late.” I chuckle, but it’s a sad, raspy sound. “Listen, Valen.” I twist my fingers together in my lap, allowing the pain to ground me. “I get that I’m a job to you, okay? One that will end eventually. One that?—”
One step. That’s all it takes for him to reach me, to palm the side of my face, to drag my gaze to his. “You’re sure about that?”
My mind is blank as I suck air into my lungs. “I’m sure that you have a whole life that doesn’t include our particular brand of…baggage. I’m sure that you’re the very best part of my past, even if you don’t remember it. I’m sure that whatever happens, my future will be better because now I know you didn’t choose to leave me behind.” I shake out my achy fingers. “I’m sure that I have no idea what my future holds. And I’m sure that I can keep my hands to myself if that makes you more comfortable. Besides, the quilt is really soft.”
His laugh is warm and low, and it soothes me better than all the weighted blankets I’ve ever owned. “Oh, Honeybee. Still an emotional doomsday survivalist after all these years.”
I snap my head up.
“But who the fuck said I wanted you to keep your hands to yourself?”
We spendthe afternoon exploring Danville, and I only have two mild panic attacks. Embarrassingly, that’s progress. Even Wrecks is on his semi-best behavior in Chief’s hold.
“It’s aggressively New England.” Valen observes our surroundings as if he’s protecting the president of the United States.
“That’s what makes us it perfect. Could you imagine if there were a murder here?”
A woman next to us gasps, grabs her two children by the hand, and hurriedly ushers them away.
“Oops,” I say, offering a small wave in apology.
“You’re going to have the entire state police force after us before we leave here.” Chief chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to ’em.” He hands Wrecks’s leash to Valen and then saunters off before I’ve thought of a reason to stop him. This could be a disaster.
“Have you always…glorified murder?” Valen lifts a brow in my direction.
I gasp in mock outrage. “I don’t glorify it. But if you’re asking if my brain has always gone from zero to worst-case scenario, then yes. I create the most terrifying worlds because it makes life a little more manageable.”
He steps closer, and the bustling street fades away. He brushes a strand of hair from my face, and his fingers linger at my jaw.
My breath catches as he stares at my mouth.
The space between us shrinks to inches, to centimeters, to?—
“Do you ever…” He brushes his fingers against the back of my hand and then wraps those long fingers around mine. “If you hadn’t grown up the way you did, do you think you’d still write thrillers? Or do you think you’d be someone else?”
His tone is smooth, low. It makes me think we’re not just talking about me here, and my heart rate accelerates as I stare at where his hand holds mine.
He feels…perfect.
“When we were younger,” I say, “you told me I’d be a famous fairytale author when I grew up. I was obsessed with happily ever afters, and you were always so patient with me. You listened to the stories I had in my head, and you never once tried to discourage me.”
He tugs me to an abrupt halt, his fingers tightening around mine. “Prince Valor. You told stories about Prince Valor saving the Honey Queen.” His eyes are glassy, as if he’s not really here but lost somewhere in his mind. “Our tree. It’s shaped like a Y.I’d push you up to the first branch, and then we’d climb so high no one could find us. That’s where you told me stories—where we were safe.”
“Yeah,” I choke out, my throat thick and itchy.
He blinks rapidly, bringing life back into focus.
“Do you think—” I clear my throat. “Do you think our past is why you started Styx and Stone Security?”Was it because of me?
He nods and gently guides me forward as people walk around us on the sidewalk. “That’s…twofold. I may not have all my memories, but I’ve known since the moment I woke up that I didn’t protect something important. Ever since, I’ve spent my life trying to make up for that. I think…I’ve been trying to make up for not protecting you, and I didn’t even know it, but I also wanted access to resources to dig into my past. Unfortunately, I always hit a wall. Almost as though someone were actively working against me.”
“Valen.” I’m not sure he hears me. I barely heard myself, but he doesn’t stop walking, and I allow him to drag me through town.
“Opening Styx and Stone Security was supposed to erase the unease that sits heavy on my shoulders. I trained with ex-special ops agents for two years while Roman got the business side of things up and running. But no matter how many people I saved, the…fear remained.”
We both wear the scars of our childhood in different ways. It’s devastatingly unfair.
“Valen?” I squint up at him, the sun creating a halo around his face.
