“It’s how I deal, okay? End of discussion. Drop it.” She retreats a step, and luckily the wall is at her back, because that means she can’t run away now.
“Deal with what? Is shit that bad at home that you’re willing to risk your safety here so that you don’t have to go back?” I immediately feel like a jerk for my original assumption that she’s sleeping around, but now I’m worried about what she’s withholding from me. And a small part of me cringes because I sound a lot like Rafe did to me when I wanted back here. I hate not knowing what has put this look on her face and the uncertainty laced with something else I can’t quite pin down in her eyes. “What the fuck are you running from?”
“Nothing.” She remains expressionless.
“Don’t nothing me, Beaux. Or is it BJ now? Because I expect that kind of crap answer from BJ, not from you. Not from the woman who looked at me like she did last night before bailing out of the lobby like she couldn’t get away fast enough.” She holds my stare as my words punch her one by one.
“Like I said, I’m not running from anything.”
“Nice try but I’m not buying it.” I know she’s going to try and run the minute she averts her eyes. Good thing too, because I reach out to grab her shoulders and keep her in place at the same time she tries to shrug past me. “Uh-uh. You’re not going anywhere. In your words we’re going to settle this right now. What’s your story, then? We’ve sat for the last week talking about everything under the goddamn sun, and yet I know nothing about you.”
Oh I’ve definitely got her attention now: the sharp intake of air, her eyes flickering left and right, the stiffness in her posture.
“Yes, you do!” She sneers back.
“I know you went to Dartmouth, your reasons for freelance… but I don’t know the person you are at home without using that fucking camera as a shield in front of you. So tell me, BJ,” I say as I step well within her personal space so that I can feel the heat of her breath on my lips. “Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you dealing with?”
“Back off, Tanner.” The warning sound in her voice is clear as day, but I don’t care. I’m in big-brother mode now, and all I want to do is make sure that she’s okay.
“No. You know me, right? Know how stubborn I am? It comes with my career choice, so I suggest you start talking.” We stand there in a silent standoff that I sure as hell am going to win. “Is it your family? Are you running from them?”
“No. Don’t have any.”
“Everyone has family.” I laugh in disbelief at her lie.
“Not me. They’re dead.”
I never knew you could get whiplash from words alone, but there’s always a first for everything, and she’s taught me a lot of those in the short time that I’ve known her. “Wh-what?” I stutter the word out as dread drops through my body for pushing her. I was sure she was going to look like the ass in the end, but it seems I’m taking the lead position in that race.
“My parents died my senior year of high school. Car crash. They were driving to school to bring me a project I forgot at home. Both were gone instantly. I’m an only child as were they, so there’s no one else. I sold the house to pay for my college tuition. My blood money. So when you tell me no one understands the guilt you feel over whatever happened to Stella, you are so very wrong. I wear the crown most days.”
Her eyes are steadfast on mine, her voice still void of emotion, but I understand her a bit better now that I know the why behind it. Detachment is a necessity, and yet I want more from her.
“Where are you from?”
“Doesn’t matter. Podunk, USA. A black dot on a paper map. I’m giving you the answers you want, so the where is irrelevant.”