Page 168 of Brutal
“Yeah,” I say. “You do.”
He shakes his head. “I knew him a long time,” he says. “Long enough to recognize what he left behind.”
I go rigid as I look at Delaney.
At her eyes.
Those silvery blue orbs that mesmerized me the first time I saw her at the club, sitting there at the bar, watching me.
And now?—
I see it.
Or maybe I’m looking for it. It doesn’t matter. I’ll never unsee it. They’re Victor Halstead’s eyes. How could I ever forget them? I was the last thing they ever saw.
“Delaney,” I say.
No response.
She’s still looking at the man.
Not at me.
Not at anything that would make this real.
“You want to tell me what that means?” I push.
She turns toward me. Slowly. Achingly slowly. Her expression is locked down.
I regard her. Those eyes that have gazed into my own, those lips I’ve kissed.
I take a step forward. Close the distance. “Who the hell are you?”
“No one,” he says.
I already know who he is. I never don’t know what I’m walking into.
I turn fully to her. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Her eyes meet mine. “Nothing.”
Another lie.
“Don’t do that,” I say.
“Do what?”
“That.”
“Be specific.”
I step closer so there’s almost no space between us. “You tell me right now, Delaney. Because even I can see that you have his fucking eyes.”
The man watches. He seems like he expected whatever this is to go exactly as it has.
“You should go,” he says.
Not to me.
