“No,” I shout. “That’s my line. What the hell, Dallas? What the fucking hell?”
He shuts the door behind him—probably a good idea since we haven’t even met our neighbors yet—and eases around me into the apartment. He’s moving warily, like someone who’s found himself trapped in a cage with a tiger, and he raises his hands in an effort to either soothe or protect. I’m honestly not sure.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Oh, that’s rich,” I say. “But sure. Yeah. Why not? I’ll tell you what’s going on.” I cross to him and shove him hard in the chest with the heel of my hand. “What’s going on is that you lied to me. What’s going on is that my boyfriend and my best friend and their friends have been investigating my birth father. What’s going on,” I conclude, my voice so hard it’s painful, “is that you think Colin kidnapped us and you didn’t fucking tell me.”
I step back, breathing hard. Dallas has gone completely white, but he moves toward me, his green eyes glowing. “Jane—”
“You grabbed him.” I have to force the words out. “Did you kill him?” I force the question out on a sob. “Oh, god, Dallas. Did you kill Colin?”
“No.” He tilts his head back and draws a long breath, and I watch as he visibly steels himself. As his color returns. “I didn’t want to tell you until we were certain. But today—well, dammit, it doesn’t look good. Liam’s sending me everything we’ve gathered, and I’ll show it all to you, I swear. But right now, we need to interrogate him. He’s locked up. And Quince is going to talk to him.”
“Talk? Is that what they call it?”
“What the hell, Jane? I’m pretty damn certain that the man fucking kidnapped us.” He’s in my face now, and I’m glad. I want him fighting back. I want a battle. “You damn well better believe I’m interrogating the fucker.”
“You promised me no more secrets. Damn you, Dallas, how the hell could you keep this from me?”
He seems to deflate with my words. “Oh, baby. Baby, I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think—I mean, if it turned out our suspicions were wrong. I just—oh, fuck. I was going to tell you. I swear I was going to tell you as soon as we were absolutely certain.”
“You were certain enough to take him in.”
“Today,” he says. “It all came together today, Jane, and I’ll show you every bit of evidence we have. And you’re right, I didn’t tell you before, but I would have told you soon.” He meets my eyes. “I truly am sorry. Hell, I’m sorry for both of us. He’s my friend, too.”
I nod, feeling numb. But the truth is, I haven’t even started to process all my feelings—rage, confusion, anger, hurt—about the possibility that Colin could have done that. To me. To Dallas.
My hurt is still focused on the deception. On Dallas. “I trusted you. You’re my heart. My lover. My brother. Jesus, Dallas, you’re everything to me and you just—you just—”
I turn away as a sob rips through me. “Everything is public now because of you. And we promised each other we’d be okay. And even in all of that—that mess—you didn’t say anything?” I look back at him. “I can’t believe you did this to me.”
“I’m sorry—I am. I was trying to protect you, not hurt you.”
“No? Well, guess what? You did. All those times we talked about secrets. About finding out who did this to us. Hell, I point blank asked you if Deliverance had any leads, and you didn’t have the balls to tell me the truth.”
“I screwed up, I know that. But it’s because I wanted to keep you safe.”
I wince. Him. Bill. Everyone is trying to coddle me. “You can’t keep me safe, Dallas. Not by lying to me. How can you not see that?”
“Jane, please.”
But I just shake my head. I don’t want to hear any of this. What was it I’d told myself in LA? That I knew that Dallas and I should be together, I just didn’t know how?
Well, maybe there is no how. And maybe a lie this big completely erases should.
“Jane—” His voice is soothingly gentle, but I’m not ready to be soothed.
“No—no.” My breath is coming fast and shallow, and I force it to slow. “I need you to go. Will you please just go?”
I sound so calm and commanding, that I’m almost baffled when he says, “No.”
“No,” I repeat. “No? Okay. Right. Fine.” The calm in my voice is cracking around the edges. “Fine. If you won’t go, then I will.” I grab my purse and head for the door, fueled by a mix of anger and the need for action. Any action. He reaches for my elbow, but I yank my arm away so that his fingers only graze over me, the touch so damn familiar. And right then, so unwelcome.