“I’m tired of being the thing you have to feel guilty about all the time! It’s like Sidney has always told you, guilt isn’t a healthy emotion to base your life on. It’s certainly not the key emotion to build a relationship on,” she exclaimed heatedly.
His eyes narrowed. She gasped back a rush of emotion. She immediately wanted to take it back, and at the same time, experienced relief at finally voicing her worry.
“Is that what you think?” he asked after a billowing silence. “Sidney doesn’t understand the way I feel about you. I don’t really expect him to. I thought you did though. Maybe I was wrong about that.” He stood.
Alice wanted to scream so bad that he wasn’t wrong. But she was so scared Sidney was right. Doubt assailed her, choking off her voice. Maggie came up to the door just as Dylan stalked out. She crossed the threshold, her eyes wide.
“I heard shouting,” Maggie said in a muted tone.
“Sometimes I wish I’d never heard the name Adelaide Durand,” Alice blurted out hoarsely. “No, I wish Dylan never had.”
Her face crumpled.
“Oh no,” Maggie said, rushing to her side.
*
THE next morning, Dylan arrived at the hospital by eight. He’d calmed down a lot since last night.
Yeah, Alice’s doubt had hurt. He wished he were so confident about caring for another human being the way he cared about her that it hadn’t hurt as much as it had. But he also understood Alice was scared. Why wouldn’t she be? Her entire world had been shaken by learning she was born another person, she’d been forced to provide the FBI with details so they could more easily arrest the people she’d thought were her family, and she’d been brutally attacked and almost killed by a crazy man. All of that had happened within the last three weeks of her life.
Add to that, she’d told Dylan she wasn’t sure she trusted him, only to tell him she loved him the following week. He knew enough about Alice to realize that alone would have rattled her world, forget about all the other crap.
He’d known going into this whole thing that it would take a lot of patience and fortitude. Alice hadn’t realized that since Kehoe had gone over the edge, a lot of Dylan’s power to protect her privacy and anonymity had vanished. He’d taken her by surprise with that fact. Maybe he’d disappointed her. He’d try to make her understand today, without losing his temper this time.
He saw Maggie at the vending machines on his way to Alice’s room. He paused when she looked up and caught his eye.
“Any word when her discharge will go through?” he asked Maggie.
She walked toward him, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“They’re just finishing up the paperwork.”
Dylan frowned. Why was Maggie having trouble meeting his eyes?
“So she’s up?” he asked, referring to Alice.
Maggie nodded. “She’s waiting for you in her room.”
A foreboding went through him.
“What’s going on?” he asked slowly.
Maggie shook her head. For the first time, she met his gaze squarely. “She’s just really confused. It’s a lot for her to take in. It’d be a lot for anybody to—”
“Maggie?” he interrupted.
“Just go talk to her.”
Alice was sitting on the edge of her made bed. Kuvi had brought her some clothing and her computer from their cabin, plus Dylan had brought her some things from the castle. She wore a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a short-sleeved fitted T-shirt—none of the items ones he’d provided for her. Her hair was clean, and brushed back behind her ears. Her face looked tense and wan beneath the discoloration of bruises and healing cuts.
In her lap, she held what looked like a folded piece of lumpy paper with staples around the edges.
“What’s going on?” he asked, taking several steps toward her. He saw the misery in her dark blue eyes when she looked at him. Shit.
“I’m going back with Maggie,” she said hoarsely.
“No.”
She winced. “I can’t keep doing this, Dylan. Camp is over. The kids are gone.”
“I know you came here for the camp. But are you really going to sit there and tell me after all this, that it’s the only reason you’d stay?”
“No,” she said in a choked voice. He felt like a bully, seeing the silent entreaty for understanding in her shiny eyes.
“I need time to heal and to think about everything and what it means to me.” He opened his mouth. “I need time,” she repeated, sounding desperate.
“Away from me,” he clarified harshly. “Do you think I don’t know you, Alice? You’re a loner. You dive for cover when you’re feeling vulnerable. It’s as natural an instinct to you as breathing.”
“I can’t just change who I am in a few weeks.”
“I realize that. But I also know that once you’ve found cover, you’re going to want to stay there. You’re not going to be able to hide this time, though. This is too big for you to blend into the background. It’s already begun to change you. You can’t go back to your old world and fit yourself into it again.”