Page 89 of Haunt the Mall

Zero ignored me in favor of adjusting the widow’s innards.

So much for trying to lighten the mood. How exactly did they know each other prior to the widow commission?

I played with my cross and turned. “Victor, can I speak with you privately?”

Zero eyed us.

“I’ll be right down the hall,” he muttered.

Instead of guiding me with his hand on my back, he shoved his fists into his pockets as we walked toward the parking lot exit. “I’m guessing you’re not here to revisit theater thirteen,” he said quietly.

“No.” My throat tightened. Could I only stop by for sex? “How’s your back doing?”

“Fine.” He flexed and glanced down the hall.

Why was he so cagey?

I rolled my cross around my finger. “I wanted to talk about what happened earlier.”

“What about it?”

Was he going to be like this the whole time?

“I need you to open up to me,” I said. “It’s not fair to keep me guessing. I have no idea where you’re coming from or where we’re at or even where this is going.”

“No idea?” He closed in and met my gaze, his eyes swimming with fury. “I’m crazy about you, darling, with emphasis on the crazy.”

He was putting on another act.

I raised my chin. “You don’t scare me.”

“Then why’d you stop me from confessing? Why’d you run away?” His voice broke, and so did my heart.

Maybe that’s why I told him the truth: “I don’t know what’s real with you.”

He paled and reeled back. “You think I’d lie to you?”

“No. I don’t—I don’t know.” I frowned. “I don’t know you, Victor, no matter how much I think I do. No matter how much I want to.”

“You know enough. You should know I’d never cheat on you,” he glowered.

“You don’t get to decide what’s ‘enough’ for me. I had no idea if we were dating or fucking around with seasonal themes,” I said.

He ticked his jaw. “What about my courtship screamed ‘casual’ to you? From the first day you walked in here, I’ve doted on you. I think about you all the time. I plan dates you’d like. I call you my wife.”

“As a joke,” I reminded him, quickly moving on before he could do more than open his mouth. “I love the thoughtful gestures. But I’ve never had stuff like that. Guys have love bombed me so they could get laid, though.”

“So, you were keeping your expectations low, and I still managed to fail them?” he asked dryly.

“No.” I huffed. “I don’t believe you were fucking other girls while we were together.” I didn’t, in retrospect. “But was it possible you’d put similar moves on them?” I shrugged. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I was different, or if you felt as strong as I did, or if I’d scare you off by feeling this intense so fast. I was trying to talk to you about it. Instead, you focused all your energy on Sam.”

He scoffed. “I needed to take care of him.”

“Not at that second. And not like that,” I reasoned.

He clawed his chest. “I was trying to protect you.”

I held my hands out to him. “From what? A kid with a crush? What did he do?”