“Art.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this sucks. You’re my boyfriend. Imovedhere for you, and you don’t even stop by to make sure I’m okay after I was stalked?”
His hands tighten on the wheel. For a long moment, I think he’s going to deflect again.
Then he exhales.
“You’re right. I’m shitty and I’m sorry, okay? But I was trying to find things out before I worried you more.”
I keep my face still. I know more than he thinks I know. But I need to hear what he’ll tell me…and what he won’t.
“Okay. So what’d you find out?”
He flicks a blinker on, and the clicking echoes in the car. “Your dad’s in trouble.”
My nails bite into the seat. “What kind of trouble?”
“I didn’t know at first, okay? When you moved here, I thought it was just us. You and me, starting something real. But then I heard things. From Benny. From people connected to this world I never wanted to be part of. Your dad’s the attorney for some dangerous people, and apparently that comes with strings.”
His honesty surprises me, and I swallow around the knot. “What kind of strings?”
“The kind where they want to make sure he stays loyal.” Art pulls the car to the side of the road and turns to face me. “I thinkthat’s why someone’s been following you. They want something to hold over him.”
“So I’m what? A hostage?”
My heart kicks and my vision blurs, something spiraling in my sternum.Breathe, Ginny.
“No.” He grabs my hand, grip almost too tight. “I won’t let that happen. That’s why I asked Lance to watch you. That’s why you’re at his place. I’m gonna fix this.”
“Okay…” I can’t catch my breath. “Sure.”
I drop my head between my knees, and Lance’s voice floats through my head—What’s something you can see? Deep breaths, Half-Pint—until I come back to myself.
When I straighten and peer at Art, he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and looking at me like I’m an alien.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just been a little panicky lately.”
“Right.” He grabs my hand again, pulling it into his lap. “I’m here now, babe. Everything’s okay.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I was ashamed.” His thumb traces circles on my palm, and his touch is soft and cool. “This town, my family, the Lye…this whole mess—I brought you into it.”
He looks broken. And part of me breaks with him, because I loved this man. I moved my whole life for him, and even now, watching him crack open, I want it to be real.
“I love you, Gin.” He kisses my fingers. “I can’t lose you.”
A tear slips down my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
My father told me not to.
Relief floods his face, and he pulls me across the console, his nose buried in my hair.
I hold onto him, breathing in his cologne, trying to quiet the voice whispering that the man who just said “I can’t lose you” also said “that kid’s bait” without flinching.
