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He glanced away, but he talked. “Your father doesn’t even know all of it. Like I said, it’s bigger than just me. The recent arson attacks. The fires at the school carnival—”
“That long?” She wanted to hit him again. “And you didn’t think maybe I should know?”
“I’m trying to keep you out of it, Hannah!” He shoved away from the couch and stood over her. “You don’t think it kills me to get text messages like that? To know that the more we’re together, the more of a target you are? Do you have any idea what it was like to get those messages when you were in the woods, just trying to do your job?”
She punched him in the chest with his phone. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to know that you kept this from me?”
He drew back. His expression looked bleak. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.”
Hannah looked from him to Hunter and Tyler and back. So much secrecy. She wanted to storm out of there right now.
She didn’t. She needed to piece it together, but she didn’t have enough clues yet. There’d been so much violence and destruction that she probably should be afraid of whatever Michael was involved in, but she’d known him too long and she wasn’t the type to back away from a threat. What could he and his brothers be into? Were they arms dealers? Drug smugglers? That didn’t seem to fit. Michael always seemed so concerned with doing what was right. He was a solid role model for his brothers.
She almost couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “What are you involved in?”
“Nothing like you’re thinking. My parents struck a deal five years ago, and it didn’t work. Now I’m just trying to keep my family safe.” He paused, and his expression turned desperate. “Not just my family. Everyone. You and James. Hunter and his mom. Becca and Quinn. Adam. Layne and Simon and—”
“They’re all involved?” Hannah stared at him. “All those people?”
He nodded. “Like I said, it’s bigger than just me.”
“But they know. They know the risks?”
Michael hesitated, then nodded.
It had been months since the carnival fire and the arson attacks in town. He’d been keeping this secret—whatever it was—for months. Years, if she believed what he’d said about his parents. She gritted her teeth. “And now I’m a part of it.”
His voice was very soft. Almost ashamed. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I didn’t want—”
She didn’t care what he didn’t want. “But it’s over, right? The man is dead?”
“The guy who sent those texts is dead.” Michael paused. “But I don’t think he was working alone.”
“What else do you know?”
“Nothing!” he cried. “I don’t know anything else! Don’t you understand? I’m not in control here.” He swallowed hard, and she could swear the tension in the apartment was going to rip him apart. “Jesus, there’s a part of me that’s relieved my brothers aren’t here. If no one I know has any idea where they are, they’re safe.”
He looked so distraught that part of her wanted to hug him, to tell him they’d figure it out, if only he’d tell her everything.
Another part of her thought it was way too late for all that.
“All right,” she said. “You think I’m safer if we stay apart?”
He winced. “Hannah. Please—I don’t—”
“Good call,” she said. She opened the door and walked out, easing it closed behind her.
He didn’t follow. Of course.
In the parking lot, she thought of her father, coming after her at the last minute. She waited, wondering if Michael would make an appearance.
He didn’t.
She told herself not to cry. She’d never needed a man before, and she sure as hell didn’t need one now. Especially not one with a box of secrets that would rival Pandora’s.
She didn’t want to go home. It was after nine, and her father would be there for sure. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to see her mother, either, because Hannah was worried she’d demand truths she just wasn’t ready to hear. James would already be in bed, dreaming of SpongeBob and Legos by the time she walked through the door.
She had no girlfriends she could call. Anyone she knew was more of an acquaintance than someone she could dump all of this on. The guys from the firehouse weren’t much better.
