Page 192 of Offside Devil

“It’s true, then.” Zane shakes his head. “Part of me thought, maybe… But your reaction makes it obvious. You’re Katerina Costa.”

“No.” The word comes out surprisingly forcefully. It’s only because I’ve had years to think about this moment. To plan exactly what I would say. “Katerina Costa is gone.”

“There’s no point lying. I know who you are, Kater?—”

“Katerina never even had a chance to live. Not in that house. Not with that family.” A tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away. “Katerina is a scared little girl. Mira is the woman who saved her.”

Zane stares at me for a second, his blue eyes as wide and pale as I’ve ever seen them. Slowly, he slides the folder to the side. “You were telling me the truth. About your dad.”

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, trying my best to keep back the sobs that are squeezing my throat.

“Am I the only person you’ve ever told?”

I nod. “You’re the only person I ever wanted to tell. You’re the only person I ever wanted to know me.”

Daniel was right about that much, at least.

“You told me he died,” he rumbles. “But that wasn’t the whole story, was it?”

I close my eyes and I see the blood. Shattered glass.

There was so much yelling.

“You killed him. You killed your father.”

There’s no point trying to dry my cheeks now. Years’ worth of backed-up tears are flowing. Taylor would be proud of me for finally clearing out my emotional constipation.

Maybe not so proud for the murder part, though.

Suddenly, Zane is in front of me.

His thumbs brush gently over my cheeks, and I have got to be dreaming. If I am, I never want to wake up.

I keep my eyes closed and fall against his chest. His heartbeat is a steady drumming in my ear. I take deep breaths of him. It’s been days of feeling like one of those little monkeys playing the cymbals has taken up residence in my head.

Now, there’s nothing. The noise is gone and it’s just Zane.

Just us.

“You could have told me,” he whispers against my temple. “If you’d told me everything, I would have understood. He hurt you.” Zane’s arms tighten around me. If my dad was still alive, I’d almost feel compelled to warn him to watch his back. Almost. “No one would blame you for defending yourself. You could go back and talk to the police. You could?—”

“No!” The dream snaps and I step away. I shiver without his warmth around me, but I meet his eyes. “I can’t go back, Zane. Ever.”

He frowns. “You’re going to keep running?”

I knew this day was coming, but I had no idea exactly how much it would hurt.

This is why I don’t put down roots.

This tearing ache in my chest is why I don’t fall in love with golden-haired hockey players and their friends. This is why I don’t let blue-eyed four-year-olds patch up all of the broken parts of me with bedtime giggles and mouse-shaped pancakes and afternoons spent at the park.

It’s easier when I have no one. When there’s no one to leave behind. No one to break your heart.

“I don’t have a choice,” I sob, feeling every ounce of the weight of all the good things trying to keep me here. “I d-don’t have another choice.”

Something flickers across Zane’s face. Then he clenches his jaw and reaches into his back pocket.

It takes me a couple seconds to realize what he’s handing me.

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