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What would Jason say? He’d always had a knack for reading people. He also knew how to spot a con or a liar. Cate was far too trusting.Naive. That was the word. When was she going to grow up? Harry wasn’t interested in her. He’d been kind as a favor to Jason.
Despite her misgivings, she sat down on the bed again. Minutes passed. She played solitaire on her phone and let Harry sleep. But he was fidgety, clearly uncomfortable.
After twenty minutes, he slung an arm over his head and sighed. “Talk to me. I’m bored.”
“You’re not bored. You’re just not used to being less than a hundred percent. Consider this a character-building exercise. Patience is good for the soul.”
He opened one eye and gave her a look that might have been intimidating if he wasn’t naked and helpless.
On second thought,helplesswas the wrong word. Even drugged and with a bum knee, Harry was a force not to be underestimated.
“My soul is fine,” he said.
“Tell me about your family.”
His face shuttered instantly. “No.”
She touched his arm, squeezing lightly. “Is your father deceased? Why don’t you have a good relationship with your mother?”
One minute passed, then two. “It’s a long, ugly story.” His lips twisted. It might have been pain from his knee causing that expression, but she had a hunch it was something worse.
“I have nowhere to go,” she said softly.
He moved restlessly, searching for a comfortable position and clearly not finding one. His chest rose and fell in a ragged sigh that seemed dredged up from deep inside him.
“My father is in prison,” he said curtly.
“Why?”
“Because he beat the shit out of my mother, broke her arm and her jaw and left her for dead.”
Cate gasped. She couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This isn’t a good time to do this. You need to sleep.”
He raised up on both elbows and glared at her. “You wanted to know. Now at least have the guts to listen.”
Though she trembled inside, she forced herself to nod. “Okay. But lie back down.”
He did as she asked, probably because he was woozy. For a moment she thought he had dozed off again. But then he opened his eyes without warning and stared straight at her, the pain there for her to see. “I’ve never married because of him.”
It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. “Oh, Harry.”
“What if I turn into him? I couldn’t take that chance. No wife. No kids.”
“You’re not like that at all,” she said firmly.
“I have a temper.”
She managed a smile despite the tenor of the conversation. “I can’t argue with that. But have you ever even hit anyone in anger?”
Harry nodded bleakly. “I punched a kid in middle school. He was harassing this shy little girl who was scared of him, and he wouldn’t stop. So I punched him. He had to go to the hospital. I was suspended for a week.”
“That doesn’t make you an abuser,” Cate said, choosing her words with care. He clearly believed it was possible.
“But itdoesmean I could snap. They say it can be genetic.”
Unconsciously, she had been stroking his arm. Now she squeezed it for a second time. “I know you, Harry. And Jason certainly does. He thinks the world of you. You’re not a violent person.”
“Maybe.” He closed his eyes again.
