“You’ll have to teach me how to cook one day.”
He freezes hallways through taking a sip of his beer. When I glance over, he’s staring at me with the stupidest grin spread across his face.
“What?” I laugh.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“I just…” He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. “I like the way you said that.”
“Said what?”
“One day.”
I raise an eyebrow, hoping he elaborates.
“You said one day.” His smile softens. “Like there’s a future.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized I’d said it. A few hours ago, I was furious with him. Ready to walk away because he’d dug into my past without asking. Now we’re sharing dinner in his apartment, talking about tomorrow like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
It’s terrifying how quickly he makes me forget I’m supposed to be running.
“What did you find out about me, anyway?” I ask, cutting into my steak.
The knife slides through it effortlessly. Perfectly medium rare. Exactly how steak is supposed to be. Not cooked to death until it’s chewy, but not still mooing at me either.
Miles hesitates for a second, taking a drink before answering.
“Honestly, not much. I found some articles. Mostly stuff you already told me.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I read about the house fire, and after everything you told me…”
I stop chewing. “What house fire?”
His brows knit together. “The one your father died in.”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. What the hell is he talking about?
“There was an article about it,” he continues carefully. “It happened a couple months ago, right before you moved here. It said there was one fatality, but they hadn’t officially identified the remains yet. I just…I assumed. I figured that’s how you killed him.”
My fork slips from my fingers. The metal crashes against the ceramic plate. The sound echoes through the apartment and everything else disappears. My heartbeat pounds so loudly that I can’t hear anything else. A house fire? The thought slams into me with enough force to steal the air from my lungs.
He wasn’tinthe house. He must have set it on fire, made everyone think he was dead. He’s still alive.
My vision blurs as panic tears through me.
He’s still out there. He’s looking for me.
He’s coming.
“Maddie?”
Miles is beside me before I even realize he’s moved. His hand wraps gently around my forearm. “Maddie, look at me.”
I can’t. I can’t breathe.
“Maddie…” His voice is softer now. He almost sounds afraid. “Did you not kill him in the fire?”
I force myself to look at him. Tears spill down my cheeks before I realize I’m crying, my lips trembling.
