His eyes widen slightly when he sees me. Then the mask slides back into place. “Marshal Bennett.”
“We need to talk.”
“About Stevie.” Her name in his mouth. Her real name. Like he has any right to it.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. “Yes.”
He studies me for a moment. Whatever he sees makes him step back, hold the door open. “Come in.”
The house is clean. Every surface polished, every object in its place. The home of a man who controls everything.
I don’t sit when he gestures to a chair. Neither does he.
We stand on opposite sides of his living room, sizing each other up like fighters before the first punch.
“How is she?” he asks.
The question hits wrong. Too casual. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Isn’t it?” He tilts his head slightly. “You’re standing in my living room looking like you want to kill me. This is about her.”
“I need to know what the situation is with Sal.” The words come out harder than I intended. The voice I use for threats, not conversations. “Is the family still looking for her? Is she safe or do I need to relocate her again?”
“Sal’s been handled. I vouched for her. Told him she’s with me, that she’s not a threat. He’s backed off.”
“For how long?” I demand.
“Permanently. As long as she’s under my protection.”
“Your protection.” The words taste bitter. “She doesn’t need your protection. She has mine.”
“Does she?” He steps closer. “Because from where I’m standing, your protection involved hiding her in Colorado and visiting a few days a month. Drive in, fuck her, drive out. That’s not being with someone. That’s not protection. That’s abandonment with good intentions.”
The rage hits so fast I don’t see it coming. One step. That’s all. One step and my knuckles meet his face and I ruin everything. I feel it like a reflex and hate myself for how much I want it.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.” He steps closer. Not threatening, challenging. “Tell me you’re there when she wakes up at 3 AM and can’t sleep. Tell me you’re present in her life instead of just passing through.”
“I’m doing the best I can. My job…”
“Your job.” He laughs, a bitter thing. “Your job is the reason she’s in Colorado. Your job’s the reason she had to disappear. And now your job keeps you away from her how many days out of thirty.”
“At least my job won’t get her killed.”
He flinches.
“You want to talk about danger?” I step toward him, getting in his space. “You’re the reason she’s in witness protection. Yourworld, your family, your choices. She testified against you and had to erase herself because your people would kill her for it.”
“I know what I am.”
“Do you? Because you sent her chocolates like that fixes anything. Like a box of candy makes up for the fact that loving you almost destroyed her.”
“I didn’t ask her to love me.” His composure cracks. “She came to me. Broke into my house. I tried to stay away. I left my door unlocked so she could come and go safely, but I didn’t pursue her. I gave her space. Gave her the choice.”
“And look where that got her.”
“Safe.” The word comes out sharp. “It got her safe. Away from Sal, away from the family, away from everything that could hurt her.”
