Page 62 of The Outcast


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He sighs. “We did stupid stuff like you do when you’re young. Mistakes I never want to repeat. She OD’d once by mistake. I never want to relive that fucking experience.”

He’s looking for the truth in her words where there is none. But what she said niggles away at me like an old injury, and this has been eating away at me for two years.

“Did you do things with her sexually that”—I pull my courage out of my boots—“that you don’t do with me?”

“What the hell, Kate? What kind of question is that? You want a comparison? We’re talking ten years ago here.”

“I just … I want an honest answer. A guy I went out with”—this is not the time to tell him the whole history here—“David, went to a prostitute because he said there were things he did with her he couldn’t ask me for … He said it like it was a given. I know I’m uptight, I …”

“Jesus Christ, Kate. If he did that, then he’s a fucking asshole. We have an amazing time in bed. I would ask you for anything I’d want, and I do, Kate. I do all sorts of stuff with you, and you do things to me that make me … Goddammit! How can you even be asking this? I’m hard all the time thinking about the sex we have. I can’t concentrate on my work. My brain’s so useless I’m a danger to myself. Seriously? I’ve never had anyone like you in my bed. You’re a tiger under those blue scrubs.”

The warm lava coursing through my veins bursts out in a laugh. I love talking to him like this: I ask him a question, and he answers it. He more than answers it.

“Just thinking about it is …” he grumbles at me. “Come over. I want you here. I need to torture you a bit more to remind you.” I can hear his smile and the catch in his breath, the hope that he can persuade me that all this will be fine.

“Maybe I’ll do that to you,” I say, smiling, and he groans.

And heat takes over the lightness that has been building ever since I saw Nadine in reception. His skin, his intense concentration … I’m not imagining how good this is.

“We need to have a chat about this David guy.” His voice is dust and rust, and guilt invades. I have my own explaining to do.

“I know.”

Ugh. I remember the other reason I called him.

“Nadine knew where I worked because she got into your phone. She told me she’d accessed some stuff in your apartment, she didn’t say what.”

“What? Fuck.” His words crack out, followed by a long groan which sounds like … “Goddammit. I let her just walk in here. I’m a fucking idiot. I’m normally so paranoid as well.”

Another thump lands like a hand or a head slamming against something. “How many problems have I created by giving her a place to stay? Jesus. Did she say anything about what she’d looked at?”

“Your phone. I asked her if she knew how to program, and she said you did ‘nothing interesting on your machines.’”

His steps vibrate across the wooden floor. “Ha! That’s funny. I should have known she’d pull some shit like that. I’d be very surprised if she got into my computers, but I’ll check what she’s accessed. You can’t do anything on my devices without leaving a blindingly obvious trail.”

I let out a long breath and close my eyes as I sag into the wall. We both have history, exes. He was trying to help her.

“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” I say.

“What? No! What the hell, Kate? Come over after your shift, come straight from work.” Urgency curls through his voice.

I’ve missed going to his apartment, missed him.

“Okay.”

26

Fabian

Aloud beeping wakes me, and I stare at the spines of the books on the nightstand. I hear a soft “Shit” as the door clicks closed.Kate.My head is filled with cotton wool, and I peer at the time on the ceiling: 8 a.m.

“Put zero-six-seven-nine into the keypad!” I shout. And there’s some rustling and beeps and then the noise switches off.

After tossing and turning for hours, I got up to code at 3 a.m., my arm throbbing. I hitch myself up, trying to prop up against the pillow, and the door cracks open and I see her hesitant face, followed by wide eyes: Whether because of the alarm, because I’m in bed or because I’m naked, I’ve no idea.

“Hey,” I say softly.

She pads over to the bed. “You sorted the alarm. Did you ever find out anything about that guy who followed you?”

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