Page 151 of Bad Blood

“It’s still unsolved.” His voice cracks on the last word, and his nostrils flare as he fights back tears.

“My. God. Dax.” I cover my mouth with my hand. I picture him hearing his parents are gone. See him cuffed and escorted to the back of a cop car. Seated behind a metal table in an interrogation room. This is unbelievable. A knot forms in my throat, and I want to cry for him. I feel selfish, as if what I’m feeling about what happened last night could ever compare to what he’s been through. “I’m so sorry.”

“Whoever it was went through her purse, took my dad’s wallet—and somehow, I was their number one suspect.” He shakes his head. “Because I was too busy to be there. If I had gotten home twenty minutes earlier, I would have gotten there first; they’d still be alive, and Liam would still have them.”

“But he wouldn’t have you.”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes. “And he’d be better off.”

“Don’t say that.”

He clears his throat. “He was alone. I did that to him.”

I graze a hand along his arm, lacing my fingers through his. His account of how things took place is a lot to process. “It’s not your fault.”

“Five years later,” he chuckles. “I’m still not convinced.”

“You couldn’t have stopped what happened.”

“I know that now, but there’s the chance I could have changed things. I should have been there for Liam. Afterward, I checked out. Started drinking. Turned into a version of myself I never want to see again.” He hangs his head in defeat. “That’s what Liam’s worried about. He doesn’t think I can handle things when they get tough. I want to prove him wrong, but sometimes I’m scared he’d be right.”

“You won’t let that happen.” A pang of guilt weighs heavy in my chest. I can’t imagine losing my family like that. My discomfort about the scene outside seems ridiculous now.

“Man, that’s a relief.” He stands and hops from foot to foot like a boxer, shaking out his hands. “I didn’t realize how good it would feel to talk about it, get it off my chest.”

Silence permeates the foyer. We both glance at the door.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready.” The heavy, wet scent of his laundry detergent wafts into my nose, and I close my eyes, taking in all of him. “I have a dryer.”

“Oh, shit,” he says, giving me a lopsided smile.

I pull him after me. “I’ll grab you a towel.”

He freezes and yanks me to a stop. “I’m fine. I can change at home.” He takes the hem of his shirt and billows it out, making a gust of air blow up beneath it. He’s right. Dax in no clothes could be a problem.

“Why don’t you talk to me about Liam?” I ask, changing the subject. I need to hear him say it. I need him to explain why he refuses to let me help him, even if it doesn’t matter anymore.

“To avoid this.” The Adam’s apple in Dax’s throat bobs up and down as he runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “I hate that look in your eyes.”

I drop my gaze and wait for two, three, ten seconds. “I know what you’re going through.”

“And I’m fine.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, pulling his shoulders to his ears.

“You don’t have to hide from me.” Liam is stubborn, but Dax takes the meaning of the word to a whole new level.

“I’m not hiding.” He winks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he readjusts his ball cap. He cups my face as he looks me in the eye. “He needs you. And that’s all that matters.”

“I know.”

“But you sorta messed things up.”

“What?” I suck in a deep breath, my heartbeat a strike of a hammer in my ears. Letting go of myself and feeding into my emotions was a bad idea. I knew it.

“I did want to do this.” He litters my face with kisses—everywhere except my lips.

“Stop! Patient-doctor line, remember?” I push against his chest, giving him a playful swat, but he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer.

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