Page 48 of Strict Confidence (Rochester Trilogy 2)
Emotions flash through her dark eyes. Dread. And then a beautiful resolve. “Okay.”
“I don’t want him near Paige. I don’t want him near you.”
“We might be the only ones,” she says.
The only ones in the world. The only ones left. When that fire was coming down around us, we were the only ones in the world. Jane’s face was the last thing I was going to see before I died. Jane, dying herself, for love of me. She’d accepted it. Her death. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t accept a damn thing when it came to her. Not the way I felt. Not the way I wanted her. It didn’t matter, in the end, whether I accepted it or not. Hasn’t changed anything.
I want her, and it’s not good for her. None of this is good for her.
It’s dangerous.
“The only witnesses,” she continues. “We might be the only witnesses who can place this person at the house, and out on the beach. Paige and I.”
My veins burn with how much I hate this. How much I hate the thought of letting Joe sit across a table from Paige or Jane. I don’t want his eyes on them, or his questions in their memories. I don’t want his twisted suggestions of guilt to get under their skin, or under mine. But if they’re right, and there’s someone out here, someone following us…
What other choice do I have? I can’t hold him off forever. And I can’t pack us up and disappear into the night. Paige wouldn’t be able to handle it.
“I wish you would stop.”
Jane’s dark eyes are luminous in the lamp from my bedside table. She has both arms crossed in front of her stomach. A shield. “Stop what?”
“Stop holding yourself so far away. It’s like you’re gone, and we’re in the same room.” She takes a shaky breath. “You’re not protecting me from anything when you do that.”
“I’m not protecting you from anything, ever.” There’s a person on the beach. A person on the cliff. Someone lit a fire above our heads. Joe Causey’s breathing down our necks.
I can’t make it stop.
“Not standing over there, you’re not.”
I do what I’ve wanted to do since she came in the room. Two steps and she’s close enough to crush her to my body. Jane sighs, like this is a good thing, like this is an improvement and not a faulty lifeboat off a sinking ship. She smells like the shampoo from the inn and sunscreen from their afternoon at the beach. It’s an innocent scent.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you again,” I want to lick it off her. Inhale it until there’s nothing left. With her body against mine like this, I want to make her a hundred promises. I want to tell her not to worry. The urge is so strong I almost say it. Don’t worry, Jane. I’ll fix everything. But I’m failing miserably. My love is dangerous, but it’s fucking unstoppable.
“I saw her,” she says against my chest, and I hear the tiniest waver in her voice. Like she’s sure I won’t believe her. I’m sure she got by in her previous life by keeping her mouth shut. I know it from the way her arms hold tight around my waist.
I don’t want to have to do this to her. Sit her in that room across from Joe Causey and let him disbelief her. But it’s coming. The only thing I can do is try to gain a little control over where it happens, and when.
“I believe you,” I tell her. Jane squeezes tighter. “We’ll make this quick. It’ll be over soon.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jane Mendoza
It takes a couple days of negotiation between lawyers and the police department, but finally it’s agreed that Joe Causey will come here. It took a while but still feels too soon.
Paige goes first, red-faced and silent, her arms crossed over her chest. I wish I could be in there for moral support, but apparently it’s important that we’re questioned separately. At least Beau is inside with her, but that presents its own kind of danger.
He’s volatile when he’s near the detective.
I can’t think over the heavy beat of my heart. The sharp edge of Joe’s voice is all I can hear through the floor. Pacing is too loud but standing still is its own form of torture.
I’m braced for the yelling of men or the screams of a scared child.
They never come.
“Jane?” Mateo stands at the foot of the stairs, Paige a foot away from him with her jaw jutted out. I go to meet them with a racing pulse. Sweat pricks at my hairline. I don’t trust the police. It feels awful having Joe in this house. “They’re ready for you.”
At the bottom of the steps, I get down on one knee to look Paige in the eye. “How are you doing, sweetheart? Can I give you a hug?”
