Page 102 of Tell Me Something True

Crossing his arms, he widened his feet. Lifted his chin. “You’ll have to be more specific. I’m right about so many things.”

She grinned, quick and appreciative, and he felt like a goddamn hero because it wasn’t one of her practiced smiles.

It was real.

“You were right,” she repeated, that small smile still playing on her lips, but her gaze was sincere and steady on his. “I do put on an act. As a child, I was always a burden or an obligation. I was never truly wanted. I learned it was better to become whoever the people around me wanted me to be. When I was little, it made things easier. Less frightening. And when I got older, it made those situations more bearable, knowing I had my own form of control over them. But I don’t want to pretend anymore. I feel like I’ve spent my entire life running from myself because I have no idea who I am. But I want to find out. And I want to do that here.”

“Because I said it was warm and welcoming?”

Wouldn’t that be his fucked up luck? He’d hyped up Mount Laurel to her, hoping she’d agree to marry him and move there with him, only to have her walk out on him before he’d even brought her here once.

Only to have her now think it was the place where all her dreams would come true.

Dreams that didn’t include him.

“Because it’s safe,” she said softly. “Because I think I’ll be safe here.”

Part of him wanted to tell her there was no guarantee of that, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t let her think there was even the possibility of that not being true.

Couldn’t stand the idea of her being frightened.

Not for a moment.

“It is safe,” he said grudgingly.

“Even with its fair share of poverty, crime and assholes?”

He inclined his head in a silent touché. “Even with all those.”

“What I said before was true. I never meant to hurt you. Not ten years ago and not by moving here. I’m not asking for a second chance and while I’d like your forgiveness, I’m not asking for that, either. Or holding my breath I’ll get it.”

“What are you asking?”

“I’m tired of running. From my past. From the girl I used to be. This is my chance for a fresh start. All I’m asking is that you don’t do anything to get in the way of that or make it more difficult.”

“I can’t stop you from moving here.”

“No, but you and I both know your position as assistant chief of police gives you a certain amount of authority and privilege. And power. If you chose, you could make my life unpleasant.”

“Guess I wasn’t so far off earlier,” he muttered. “When I said you don’t hold that high of an opinion of me.”

Even if now, he understood her reasons why.

“Yes, well, when you grow up the way I did, it tends to make you a bit cynical about people—about men—in authority. And while I don’t believe you’d do anything illegal, immoral, or unethical—”

“Like forcing young women to come to my house where I can sexually abuse them?”

She flushed. “I said that was a mistake.”

“You did say that. But you have yet to apologize.”

Tipping her head to the side, her ponytail trailing over her shoulder, she studied him. Probably searching for some sense of what he was thinking.

Some sign of weakness she could exploit.

“I haven’t apologized,” she said after a moment, “because you’re not ready to hear it.”

“Try me.”

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