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Chapter Six
Raven
“CanIaskyou a question?” I blurt, not even waiting for the front door to close behind Rhys
He rakes his sunglasses down his nose, pinning me with a look that makes my stomach quiver and jump. His half-smirk sends my heart into overdrive. How he’s still single, I don’t know. The man is ridiculously hot, especially when he’s dressed for work. I never knew a man carrying a badge and a gun could be sexy, but this one is.
“You been working up the nerve to ask me this question long?” he asks.
“Only most of the day,” I admit with a rueful laugh, tucking my legs under me on the sofa. As usual, he reads me like a book. He’s scary good at it. It’s been two days since he went to see Marnie. I don’t know how he did it, but she paid my tuition. I got the email yesterday. She texted to tell me that she was sending new credit cards to me too. I told her not to worry about it. She never responded to that message. I know she read it though.
I’ve been dying to know what happened, but he hasn’t shared. He hasn’t said anything at all about it, in fact. When I told him I got the email, he just grunted and said good. I’m not sure what that means, but it’s driving me crazy.
Rhys and I have settled into a…I don’t know what to call it, honestly. Anytime I’m within five feet of him, my body aches. It feels like the air around me catches fire. I want to throw myself into his arms and let the flames consume us. I know he feels it too. But somehow, we’ve both managed to keep our hands to ourselves. Whenever I feel myself slipping, I blurt my dad’s name.
He knows what I’m doing when I do it. He doesn’t call me on it. Instead, he shares some memory of my dad, or I do. It’s helped in more ways than one. Being able to talk about him with someone who loved him just as much as I do is healing. For once, I don’t feel completely alone with my grief. I don’t cry myself to sleep at night.
We remember and we laugh.
“What’s your question, songbird?” He tosses his glasses on the table by the door. His badge goes next. He’ll keep the gun on his hip until he gets to his room. That goes in the safe. I’m not sure if he’s always so careful with it or if he’s just extra cautious because I’m here.
“What happened with Marnie?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he mutters. “Women like her poison themselves until they’re bitter, miserable, and die alone. My mother is the same way.”
“Really?” I frown, pulling a throw pillow into my lap. “I didn’t know that.”
“Don’t talk about her much.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “She didn’t raise me. My stepmom did.” A smile overtakes his face, lighting him up. “She’s a real mom. She’d do anything for me. I have a little sister, Cassia. She isn’t my dad’s kid, but my stepmom would do anything for her too. As far as she’s concerned, Cassia is family too.”
“My mom was great too,” I whisper, squeezing the pillow. “She was a singer like me. When I was younger, she’d take me with her sometimes while she busked in the subway. It was so much fun to watch her. People just loved her energy. Life with her was an adventure.”
“I’m sorry you lost her.”
“You sent me flowers.” He sent the biggest bouquet of pink, white, and purple lilies and carnations. They were beautiful. The rest of the flowers went to nursing homes, but I kept his until every last petal died.
“I did,” he says, his voice soft. His forest eyes are even softer. “I hate that I couldn’t be there, princess.” Sometimes, he looks at me like I’m the only thing he sees. Like he’s just waiting for me to tell him that I’m his, and he’ll betray every belief he’s ever held to keep me. In those moments, the words climb up my throat like an aria, desperate to burst free. I want to utter them. I want to set us both free. So damn bad.
Does he know how much? Can he see me falling deeper?
“Rhys, I…”
“Jack Hale,” he blurts.
I blink twice. “What?”
“Jack Hale was there when I got there,” he says.
“Oh.” I frown, trying to drag myself back from the ledge. Back to reality. I can’t tell him that I’m in love with him. I can’t set us free. He may want me, but that’s not the same as what I feel. Besides, he’s still keeping secrets. Big ones. “Why was Jack there?”
“Good question,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. He looks weary, tired all the way to his bones. “They were allegedly meeting about something business related.”
“You don’t believe that.” It’s not a question. I’ve gotten pretty good at reading him too.
“I’ve been to business meetings with Jack,” he says. “He never drinks when business is on the table. And Marnie never discusses business at home. Brant was banished to his home office for any and all business discussions.”
