Page 134 of Beneath the Quiet

But then she takes a shaky breath and surprises me again.

“I was shot. A clear wound, no complications, but I was in hospital for a while.”

My breath clogs in my lungs before sickening bile rises in my throat. I force myself to move past it. To stay calm even when I feel so fucking far from it.

“When?”

“A few months before I came to Cloonmara.”

I roam her face, but the stare she aims at me is blank, as if she’s put a shield up, hiding her real emotions from me.

I hate that.

She pulls at our fingers, and I let go even though it costs me to do it. I grit my teeth and curse silently.

“Tell me.”

She moves her shoulders as if in a half-shrug. “Not much to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Don’t do that,” she snaps and sits up, turning her back on me.

“The hell I won’t,” I growl. Rattled, I curl my abs and sit up next to her, as close as I can get. “Are you seriously not going to tell me what happened?”

She pulls up her knees, keeping her gaze averted.

“It’s police business.”

I fucking hate this. I hate that she avoids me.

I slide my hand around the back of her neck and pull her gently closer until our foreheads touch. “Please. Please tell me,” I whisper. “Trust me, Mae. I need to know.”

She closes her eyes and bores her head into mine, but I stand my ground. I have to. Her body trembles, and the smallest glimmer of hope slides around my heart.

“Crap. I don’t want to burden you with my sad story,” she whispers.

“It’s not a burden, Mae. Getting shot is a pretty big fucking deal, and you’re my friend and my lover. I have to know what happened. For fuck’s sake, just trust me. I won’t break.”

Her eyes flicker between mine, indecision written across her face.

“But I might,” she whispers, and that small sign of insecurity just about ruins me.

“Then I’ll catch you.”

She sniffles and tilts her head back on a shaky breath.

“Why do you have to turn my knees weak like that?”

Despite the seriousness of our conversation, my lips stretch in a wide smile.

“Whatever it takes to make you open up to me.” I lean closer to her and kiss her softly. “Whatever. It. Takes.”

“Fine.” She sighs, rolling her eyes. “I’ll only give you the short version. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Good.” She sits up straighter. “So, you already know that I grew up in foster care. Nellie and Jack were the best, really, for someone like me. They gave me stability at a time when the course of my life could’ve taken a turn for the worse if I hadn’t gone to live with them when I was ten. I’m grateful for them and always will be.”