Page 77 of Hard Pass

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand, noticing her car on the curb. I was so distracted I didn’t even notice.

She doesn’t hesitate. “I followed you. The gate into your neighborhood was open so . . . here I am.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh, dragging a hand through my wet hair. “Yeah. I figured that part out. Why?” My voice sharpens. “Why follow me? Why drive like a madwoman in the rain and risk getting hurt—for me?”

“I was worried about you.”

Her words cut through the distance, loud, unfiltered and real.

I blink. Then scoff. “Worried?” I repeat.

She came to check on me?

When is the last time anyone has worried enough about me other than the guys?

Like I fucking deserve it.

My hand drags over the back of my neck, gripping tight. “You don’t get to be worried. Not after all this.”

“All what?” She takes a step closer, under the covered porch and out of the rain.

“This.” I gesture between us. “You. The investigation. The way you’ve been looking at me like I’m already guilty.”

“It’s my job to be suspicious.”

“No.” I shake my head. Why was she there anyway? “Your job is to find the truth. Not decide it before you have it.”

“I thought we were over this.”

“Really? Then why were you at the complex at eight o’clock on a rainy night when no one else was there but me? Did you think you were going to catch me in the act? Were you trying to—”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were!” I don’t know why I’m so sure of it, but I am.

And for some reason, her lack of trust bugs me more than anything. The one person I expected to be logical and reasonable and . . . “You don’t think I see it?” I push for the fight because it’s what I need right now. “Everyone wants something from me. And you aren’t an exception. You—”

“I want nothing from you,” she shouts, stepping closer. “Absolutely nothing.”

Her words ring true—the look in her eyes even more so—but I ignore it.

“I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t care if you do.” Her voice is steady and grounded. “I saw what happened out there. And I wasn’t . . . I couldn’t . . . just walk away from it. From you. I needed to make sure you were okay. That’s it. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, my chest aching. “You saw it.” Those three words have an edge to them that could cut someone open.

“And?” she asks, voice softer.

“And nothing.” My laugh is hollow. Self-deprecating. “Congratulations, Dublin. You got a front-row seat to behind-the-scenes action with why Cole Valor is fucked up.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Then what?” I snap. “What did you see? Huh? Go ahead. Say it.”

Her gaze holds mine. It’s so steady, her eyes so calm, they unnerve me.

“I saw a man being torn down,” she says quietly. “And I saw him stand there and take it because he didn’t think he had any other choice.”