Page 134 of Dead Pretty

“I won’t ever hurt you, Audrey. I never would.”

“But you already have,” I say quietly.

The silence hanging between us is fraught and heavy. And what he said is penetrating.

I might not believe that Tobias is innocent like Jack does. But that doesn’t mean he’s wrong about there being someone else involved. Or even a copycat. Like I’ve feared all along. Someone watching and waiting. To finish off what was started.

“So … if I’m not safe here, then what do I do?”

“Leave here. With me. I can take you someplace safe until we can figure this out.”

“Or I could go to the police.”

“And tell them what? That someone put a picture in my wallet?”

Okay. So, he has a point. But even still …

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Jack. I don’t trust you.”

He sighs. “I know I’m the last person you want to be around at the moment—and with good reason. But being alone is not a good idea for you right now either. I have a safe place I can take you. It’s a cabin up in the mountains—”

“I can keep myself safe, thanks. No way in hell am I staying in a cabin in the mountains with you.”

Truth is, I don’t know if I can keep myself safe. I couldn’t the last time. I have nowhere to go. It’s not like I can go back to Chicago. I would only be putting Cole at risk if I did. But a cabin up in the mountains with Jack isn’t an option either.

“Do you own a gun?” Jack asks me out of nowhere.

I frown. “No.”

I hate guns. I hate any kind of weapons. Hence why I have never carried one. Only ever my can of mace and my rape alarm.

“Then, you can’t keep yourself safe.”

My arms fold across my chest. “I don’t need a gun to do that.”

“Self-defense will only get you so far.”

He does have a point. But still …

“Do you have a … gun?” I ask warily.

“Yes,” he says slowly, seemingly gauging my reaction. “And it can keep us both safe.”

Sighing, I walk over on wobbly legs and sit down heavily on the sofa. I shake my head. “I can’t leave with you. Firstly, I don’t trust you—kind of a big one. And secondly, the only thing triggering this is a photo in your wallet, which you say was planted.”

“It was.” He takes a seat on the coffee table, putting him in front of me.

I can smell the mint from the soap he used in the shower that he took not so long ago. Even though it feels like a lifetime ago.

He’s become a different person to me in such a short period of time.

Yet I still feel exactly the same about him.

It’s confusing.

If, an hour ago, he had sat here, asking me to go on a trip with him, I would have said yes without hesitation.

But he is also not the Jack I knew from an hour ago.