Page 240 of Tell Me Something True

Weird.

And more than a little disconcerting. Especially how much it bothered Verity, him having friends she knew nothing about.

“Oh. Well, that’s good. I mean for Titus. I’d hate to think he was stuck at the shelter, scared, and feeling abandoned.”

Miles just looked at her, all bland and not buying one word of it. “Uh huh.”

She shifted. Then sent her brother a beseeching look. “Please don’t make me ask.”

Miles tipped his head back, a man searching for patience. Then he sighed, because she brought him nothing but woes and troubles. “Walsh was arraigned this afternoon. Last I heard, his boss at The Cockeyed Chameleon posted his bail.”

Which meant Reed wasn’t sitting in the county jail.

That was something at least.

But she didn’t know where he was. Or with who.

Didn’t know what was going to happen to him.

And it didn’t matter how many times she told herself that was for the best, she didn’t quite believe it.

“I’m so dumb. Believing something simply because I wanted to. Because I didn’t want to believe the alternative.” She chewed her lower lip. “I still don’t want to believe it.”

Didn’t want to believe Reed had lied to her. That he’d used her.

That he’d done what he was accused of.

“He’s innocent until proven guilty,” Miles said. “Remember that.”

“Right. And that’s your job. To prove he’s guilty.”

“Not mine. Officer O’Neil’s working the case, along with Cooper. And you’re not dumb. You’re the smartest person I know. You having a big heart and helping someone who’d been hurt doesn’t make you a bad person, and it sure as hell doesn’t make you stupid. But Walsh… he isn’t like you. He hasn’t had the privileges you’ve had, doesn’t have the opportunities. And sometimes, no matter how badly we want to help someone, no matter how much we care about them, there’s nothing we can do.”

She thought of Reed not wanting to leave Titus alone with his father. Of the bruises he’d often had as a child.

How he’d been afraid to go home last night.

Of how he worked two jobs and drove a beat-up truck. Of the chip on his shoulder and the bad attitude he used to keep everyone at arm’s length.

To keep her at arm’s length.

“Do you think he’s guilty?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

Classic cop answer.

“It matters to me,” she told him quietly. Honestly.

“I think he’s in a shitload of trouble. That you and he are at two completely different points in your life, heading in two completely different directions, no matter what happens with his case. But, again, it doesn’t matter what I think. All that matters when it comes to you and Walsh,” he continued, softer, gentler, “is what you think.”

He gave her another kiss on top of her head, then walked away.

She knew exactly what she thought when it came to her and Reed. What she’d known from the moment he opened the door, shirtless and grumpy and rude at the beginning of summer.

He was way more than she could handle. She didn’t have the skills, the knowledge, or the experience to deal with the way he made her feel. The messy, confusing emotions. The blooming desire.

She’d spent her entire summer pining after a boy who’d given her little in return.

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