Page 109 of Tell Me Something True

And he wanted, more than anything, to tell her she didn’t need to hide anymore. That she was safe.

That he’d protect her. No matter what.

“I need to speak with Assistant Chief Jennings for a moment,” Tabitha said as she stood. “I’ll be right back.”

He straightened as she approached, his body going tense and alert when she brushed past him so closely, he breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Felt the light brush of her arm against his.

He followed her when she stepped onto the sidewalk.

“You win,” she told him, soft and simple, her hands linking at her waist. “We’ll take her to the station.”

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t like that. Didn’t like her thinking he thought this was some kind of competition between them. Another battle she had to fight.

That he was in some way trying to conquer her.

But why shouldn’t she? That first night when she’d followed him home, he’d made it clear what he wanted.

I want to dismantle you.

I want to wreck you.

He stabbed a hand through his hair. Fuck.

Dropping his hand, he curled his fingers into his palm because he wanted to reach out to her. To brush his fingers down her arm or touch the back of her hand.

Something to show her they weren’t on opposite sides in this.

That he was on her side.

“There’s no winner,” he told her, gruff and quiet. “Not here. Not tonight.”

“No. I guess there’s not. Either way, I want to thank you.”

“What for?”

“For giving me those five minutes.”

“Don’t do that,” he said more harshly than he’d intended—louder than he should have as the girl’s head came up, her startled, wary gaze going to them. He swore under his breath. Modulated his tone. “Don’t thank me for doing my job. And you sure as hell shouldn’t thank me—or anyone else—for letting you do yours.”

“I’m not sure me doing my job didn’t seem to do her, or either of us any good. Maybe you were right, maybe those five minutes were nothing but a waste of time.”

Not to him. Never to him.

Because in those five minutes he’d learned even more about her.

He caught sight of movement behind her. “Maybe not.”

Tabitha sent him a questioning look and he inclined his head toward the room.

The girl stood a few feet away, her overly large sweatshirt falling to her knees. Her hands hidden in the sleeves. “Was that true?” she asked Tabitha. “That stuff you said. Was that true?”

Tabitha faced her, but stayed on the sidewalk, keeping the distance between them.

Keeping the doorway clear. So the girl wouldn’t feel trapped.

“It was true. Every word.”

The girl hesitated. Shifted. “She believed him.”

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