Page 38 of Borden 3

“I’m trying out new words,” I said, brightly.

“You’re nervous.”

I turned my back to him, aware he was following me with his eyes. “A little.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because you’re not going to let this go.”

“Let what go?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “We agreed when we got married that we would be completely transparent.”

At this, I shot him a dry look. “You keep things from me.”

“What things?”

“Work.”

“You want to know where I bury the bodies?”

Now I glared. “There are things I let you keep, to have, for yourself.”

His head tilted to the side, his gaze penetrating as he demanded, “Like what, Doll? Be specific.”

“Personal things,” I claimed. “Because they happened before me, and they don’t matter.”

“You’ve asked about my past—”

“I never demanded answers, Borden.”

“I never once rejected your questions, and I never will.”

I worked on my other earring, mind scrambling for another tactic to get him off my back about this. “Borden, we’re allowed some degree of privacy, is what I’m saying.”

I caught the way his body went deathly still. I couldn’t help but look at him. His face took on an edge. It was that fucking look Marcus Borden gave to his enemies. I pointed my finger at him straightaway. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not your fucking enemy, Borden! I’m just not ready to talk about it, alright?”

“If not now, then when?” he pressed straightaway.

“I don’t know.”

“Emma,” he warned.

“Borden.”

“Don’t pull away from me.”

“Then stop pushing it.” My tone was ice, and his face cracked. He looked like he wanted to strangle me, or fuck the answers out of me—they always were one and the same.

He pointed his own finger at me now, saying nothing for a few moments, then, “You are aggravating, woman.”

“Because you can’t control me?”

“That.”

“What else?”

“You don’t know when to give up.”

“You mean give in.”

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