Page 67 of The Darkest Chase
She winces and I grind my teeth together.
If he touched her, he’s dead.
“You don’t have to keep doing this,” I growl, the words tumbling out without thinking. “I can work with the staff angle. If he’s being that big of a prick, you don’t have to keep exposing yourself. Especially if he makes you feel unsafe.”
“I’m not sure I have a choice. Not because of you!” she says quickly. Her hands wrap around her plastic cup, squeezing until it crinkles while she looks anywhere but at me. “So, did I tell you why my grandfather and I need the Arrendell cash?”
“No,” I answer—then stop as my swiping moves past the photos of the Arrendell mansion and lands on a shot of an older man with Talia’s blue eyes. He’s bowed over a thick cedar log, shaving away, intensely focused and lost in something that looks like love. I linger on it, wondering if she looks the same way when she’s working. I pass her phone back to her. “You were fairly evasive when the subject came up before.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
She goes silent, glancing back over her shoulder to see if anyone’s eavesdropping. She ignores the phone sitting between us.
“He’s losing himself,” she says, her voice low with hurt. “Who he really is, I mean. He’s got rheumatoid arthritis and it’s destroying his hands. Of course, our crappy insurance won’t cover surgery. But it’s not just that, he…” Her lips curl up in a pained wince, trembling. “He’s suffering from early-onset dementia. There’s an experimental treatment, but it’s expensive, and we don’t have the funds. So I’ve decided I’ll deal with Xavier Arrendell being a creep if it means I can use that money to help my grandfather.”
Fuck me.
I’m a louse.
This means so much to her.
And I’m going to destroy everything this girl loves to have my revenge.
“Miss Grey,” I say slowly. “You know that if I arrest Xavier—”
“I know,” she says quickly, her voice thick. There’s a wet gleam in her eyes and a strange smile on her lips and she won’t quite look at me. “But that won’t happen for a while, right? Going after his money?”
“Right,” I say flatly.
“And he’ll pay something up front.” Her fingers knot together against the table, going still. She stares at her hands. “It’ll be enough. It has to be enough.”
“Talia.” Shit. Fuck. I can’t do this. “Listen, I’ll find another way. I won’t—”
“No.” A sharp look whips toward me, almost a glare, and I understand it more than I wish I really did.
She doesn’t want my pity.
She doesn’t want me to go easy on her or on Xavier.
“We started this, so we’ll finish it,” she whispers. “I trust you to make sure everything turns out okay.”
“You shouldn’t,” I snarl, and her smile strengthens, melancholy yet so sweet.
“I think I’m going to anyway.”
“Why?”
I don’t like the way those blue eyes watch me, beaming back an innocence I shouldn’t risk for anything.
“Maybe,” she murmurs, “I think you’re a better man than you give yourself credit for.”
Everything in me wants to shut down.
Shove her away.
Close off so she won’t depend on me, won’t expect shit from me. I couldn’t protect my brother and I couldn’t protect myself.
How the hell can I ever protect her?