“Cat.” His voice cracked on my name. “What’s going on? Are you in trouble?”
“Yes.” The honesty came out before I could clean it up.
“What kind of trouble?”
“Not the kind you can fix.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“I know.”
“Are you hurt?”
My fingers had moved to the mark at the left of my throat without permission. I took them away. “Not in the way you mean.”
“Jesus, Cat.”
“Nate—”
“No.Don’t do that.” His breath came hard through the receiver. “Don’t use the voice where you make it sound organized.”
Nate had known me for four years. He knew several of my worst tricks. Being loved was inconvenient that way.
“I can’t explain all of it.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
A pause.
“That’s bad.”
“Yes.”
I heard movement on his end. A chair scraping. “Just tell me what you can.”
I swallowed. “I’m staying in Seattle.”
“Because of the job?”
“No.”
The silence changed.
“Oh.”
“Nate—”
“There’s someone.”
I didn’t answer fast.
He laughed once. His body needed somewhere to put the hit. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is that why you’re not coming home?”
