Marina is shaking. Her right hand trembles at her side. The one that reminds her every day of what happened in Chicago.
"This is insane," she whispers. "You're insane."
"I am."
"You can't just—" She presses her palms to her eyes. "You can't just know everything about someone and call it love. That's not love."
"When Lorenzo said there was a job in Denver," I say slowly, "I volunteered."
Marina lowers her hands. Looks at me.
"I told myself it was just business. Just a debt collection. I'd come here, handle Webb, and leave. Maybe I'd see you from a distance. Maybe I'd drive past your building once. Just to make sure you were okay."
I swallow.
"I never planned to knock on your door. I never planned to drag you back into this. I was going to stay away. Like I promised."
"But you didn't."
"No." My voice roughens. "I got shot. And I was dying. And the only thing I could think about was your face."
I look at her.
"It's like you have a code," I say. "Something written into you that matches something written into me. And when I saw your face that first time, something unlocked. Something I didn't even know was locked."
Marina's eyes are wet.
"I've never felt this way about anyone," I continue. "Not once in thirty-six years. I didn't think I could. I thought that part of me died in that closet with my family. But then you opened your door and looked at me like I was just a man. And I've been yours ever since."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Marina
Ican't breathe.
The room feels too small. The walls press in. Dante's words hang in the air like smoke, filling every corner, choking me.
I've been yours ever since.
My chest hurts. My hands shake. Both of them now.
"I need—" My voice cracks. "I can't?—"
I turn away from him. Face the window. The city lights blur through the tears I refuse to let fall.
This is too much. All of it. The confession. The tracking. The way he looked at me when he said he fell in love with me in thirty seconds. Like it was the simplest truth in the world. Like it cost him nothing to admit.
But I saw his face. I saw what it cost him.
And that makes it worse.
"Marina."
His voice is soft. Careful. Like he's approaching a wounded animal.
I hear the couch creak. Hear him stand. His footsteps are uneven. Slow.
"I'll leave you alone."
