My hands grip the steering wheel tighter. “You don’t need to explain. I understand.”
I catch a glimpse of her confusion from the corner of my eye. “What do you mean, you understand?”
“I don’t want you to feel unsafe with me, Shyann, but I can’t change what I am.”
“What are you?” she whispers.
“I’m split.” I don’t look at her but I can feel her eyes boring into me.
“Pull over.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The sooner I get away from her the better chances I have of not falling at her feet, begging for another chance.
Her warm hand touches my biceps and the muscle jumps in response. “Please.”
“Don’t. I can’t . . .” I lick my lips, forcing any excuse I can find out of my throat. “I can’t afford any trouble. You know I can’t. Even the guy at the feed store has warned me—”
“Hold on. Who?” There’s anger in her voice and my already amped up emotional state has me seeing spots. “What did Dustin say?”
“It doesn’t matter.” We stop at a red light and I chance a look. “I think it’s best we stay away from each other.”
Her eyelids flutter and she shakes her head. “No, Lucas—”
“You were right to avoid me. As much as it hurts to let you go, to see you and feel so far away, I can live with that kind of torture. I welcome it even, because I know the pain of not having you means you’re safe.” The light turns green and I’m forced to pull my eyes away from her.
“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, Lucas. I want to talk to you about why, but first, let me straighten something out.” The heat of her hand rests on my thigh and she leans in close. “Dustin and Gage have some bad blood between them. You remember I told you about that, right?”
“I remember you told me about the bar. I didn’t know that was him.” I think back to his words. It’s a little late for an apology, don’t you think? “Makes more sense now.”
“Dustin knows how I feel about you.”
“How do you feel about me, Shy?” I practically choke on my own nerves.
She sighs, and I can feel her looking at me, but I can’t meet her gaze. “I feel more than I’ve felt in a long time when I’m with you. I’m scared, Lucas, because . . .”
I turn to her, hoping she’ll finish that sentence and reveal she’s just as freaked out about us as I am.
“You’re right. I’m safer without you.” She chews her bottom lip and then huffs out a breath. “But the thought of living without you is worse than my fears.”
Could that be true? Could she possibly feel as lost as I do when we’re not together? My hands shake and to be safe I pull over on an old road that leads to an abandoned mill. I shut the truck off. The air in the cab thickens between us and my mind clambers to sort the million questions that jumble my head.
“Then what happened? What did I do to chase you away?”
She groans. “You didn’t do anything. I . . .” Her fingers fist into her hair. “Dammit, this is so hard.”
Her silence weighs down the air in the truck and I’m tempted to open a door, stick my head out, and suck in much needed oxygen.
“I saw your employee paperwork, Lucas,” she whispers.
My spine stiffens and I stare at nothing in front of me.
“Your name. I’ve heard your name before.” As if every molecule of air between us swells, the space between us strings tight with tension. “Menzano. I know all about you, Lucas,” she whispers.
No. She can’t know; she’ll hate me if she knows.
“I know about the Menzano Massacre.”
I hold my breath, praying I imagined those words and she didn’t just confess to knowing what I did.
“Lucas?”
My throat closes in and my head spins. She knows . . . but only knows what the news reported, the details released from my case, but still to this day, no one knows the truth. Not even me.
“Lucas, please talk to me.”
The warmth of her hand hits my forearm and I recoil, trying to melt into the door. My hands shake as visions play out before my eyes like a bad dream.
The confusion, the blood, the voices of panic all around.
“You’re shaking—”
Finding out my mother was dead.
“. . . scaring me, Lucas . . .”
My brothers.
“. . . breathe!”
My baby sister.
“Lucas! Breathe!”
Shyann, my only friend, the only woman I ever cared for, knows how sick I am. She trusted me once; even knowing about Gage, she accepted me. No way she’d believe in me now, knowing what I am, what I’m capable of.
“Lucas, please!”
“I think . . . I killed them.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
SHYANN
I suck in a quick breath at Lucas’s confession.