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“Tripp.” Avery chimes in.
“Talk to me, Annalise.” The pressure on my arms intensifies.
He’s in my face with his demands, demands I don’t need, could barely comply with if I wanted to. My inhale falls short of fullness.
“Give her some space, Walker.”
Practically growling, Tripp spins. “You’re still here?”
“Tripp.” Avery, pleading again.
Daylight streams through the open door.
“What are you doing?” He reaches for my hand as I yank it away.
Air. I need fresh air and space. Lots and lots of space.
“Annalise Walker, get back in here!”
But I’m over the threshold, and better, Marco is on my heels. The voices of my agitated brother and my scolding future sister-in-law fade to background noise. I reach behind me, and Marco clasps my hand, letting me lead him down the sidewalk and around the corner to a breezeway with vending machines, ice dispensers, and trash cans. A stiff, high plains breeze barrels through the aptly named space, a shake of gritty sand along with it. My weight collapses against the bricks, closing everything out, and when I open my eyes, Marco is in front of me, his warm green eyes searching every nook and cranny of my face.
“You alright?” he whispers.
I meet his gaze boldly. “Now I am.” Filter off, the words escape, and yes, I mean them the loaded way it sounds. Everything is better when Marco is with me.
He blinks long…and a grin slides up his face. “Same here.”
My insides melt. I take his other hand, squeezing. “Sorry for stirring the pot with Tripp again.”
He shrugs, but I know he can’t be happy about the way things are. Can’t everything just go away? Everybody?
All but Marco.
“What happened back there, Allie? You want to talk about it?”
I take a deep breath. “Kyle left a message. Get this, he tells mehewas angry withmeand that he’s ready to forgive me and wants to get back together.” I stare out the breezeway. “But I know what he really wants.”We were good together…real good.My skin crawls at the memory. All my memories. They’re not good, certainly not of the times he references.
“You want I should go hurt the guy?” Marco props one hand above me on the wall, channeling a Jersey mobster with his accent.
I feel a smile. “Oh, yeah, he mentioned you, too. Asked if I was really with the gangsta dude.”
Marco’s features solidify, vanquishing all trace of humor. “Oh, he hasn’t seen gangsta yet.”
I sigh. “I can’t deal with him, with any of this, right now, you know? I wish…don’t you wish we could run away?” I grin up. “Just you and me, on the lam.”
He chuckles, but there’s a dryness behind it, which makes me remember. Here I am cracking jokes, but if he took off, he might be on the run for real. I touch his face. “I’m sorry, Marco. I forgot for a minute. I’m so danged selfish, I forgot all about your…everything.”
“It’s alright.”
No, it isn’t. “How did your afternoon go?”
“Found the guy, Anderson’s supplier. He gave us a name, a guy back in Dallas who might know something.”
“That’s great!”
He shrugs. “It’s a long shot that it’ll mean anything to my case.”
I touch his waist. “Everything is going to work out. I know it will.”
