Page 97 of Heartsmashed
“Yes, you still work there?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” I looked down at the badge again, because it made more sense than his face right now. “So, what, this is your day job and you do…the other…at night?”
He closed his eyes for half a second, and my body went on full alert.
When they opened again, there was regret there, and I instinctively backed up a step.
“Sawyer—”
“No, don’t say my name like that. What am I missing?” My grip tightened around the badge. “You do both, right?”
He looked at me, and my stomach dropped all the way to my feet.
“I need to explain,” he said.
With those four words, the room seemed to close in on us, my breath coming a little faster.
Maybe it was just complicated or he was embarrassed. Or maybe?—
No. My brain was trying to come up with a reasonable solution, but as I stared at him, I could see the answer on his face clear as day.
That wasn’t embarrassment at all—that was guilt. But why would he feel guilty about his two jobs, unless…
Suddenly I was back at the hotel lounge, walking up to him, the guy in the blue tie, who’d watched me curiously as I sat down and then listened as I rambled, who didn’t say much but asked questions to keep me talking.
My skin went cold.
Oh my God.
It couldn’t be true. There was no way. I wasn’t that stupid. He wouldn’t have… No.
Would he?
But even as I opened my mouth to ask, I knew what his answer would be. Knew it in my gut.
I tried to breathe through the panic and said, “Are you really the guy I hired?”
Beckett was so still he looked like a statue, and the fact that he didn’t look surprised or confused at all told me everything I needed to know.
His voice was raw, hollow to my ears when he finally answered.
“No.”
28
BECKETT
THE SECOND THE word “no” left my mouth, I watched Sawyer’s face change.
I’d spent days learning that beautiful face. His expressions were so open and honest, so easy for me to read, even when he was hiding behind a joke designed to keep the world from getting too close.
Now, though, I watched him close himself off to me as realization hit.
The badge was still in his hand, my name and face staring up from the plastic as evidence. I had imagined telling him the truth in so many different ways. Rehearsed versions of it while he slept against me, while his family pulled me into their photos, and every time Sawyer smiled at me like I was someone he could trust.
Every version had been wrong. This one was worse. So much worse.
