Page 31 of June 7

"I did."

"You led me to believe we were going to keep fucking me." He slammed his fist on the counter. "What changed?"

"Nothing changed." She used the flipper to remove the cookies from the sheet and put several on a paper plate.

She held out the plate of cookies. He growled.

"Take them." She moved them closer to him. "I made them for you."

"Damnit, Babe. You can't make me cookies and then tell me nothing is going on between us."

"It's just cookies, Bane."

"The hell it is." He snatched the plate from her hands and walked to the sliding door. "I don't know what happened to you, but when you wake up and want me, you know where to find me."

The sliding door slammed, catching the curtain in the track. She blew out her breath. That was ugly and mean. She was ugly and mean.

Picking up the cookie sheet, she dumped it in the sink and washed the rest of cookies down the garbage disposal. She only baked them to soften the blow she'd have to give to Bane. Not that he was holding his breath over her, but ending what was going on between them now rather than later was the smart thing to do.

She had to live and work beside him, and there was no future with him. She'd known that from the start. Once he stayed in Seaglass Cove long enough, he'd hear the stories about her.

It was only a matter of time until he heard someone in town comment about her mental state or make a remark about her past. She counted herself lucky that she'd had fun with him until now without her secret getting out.

Rationally, even if he could understand what she'd lived through, there was always the thought everyone had about how the same craziness that inflicted her father also ran through her veins.

No amount of happiness and niceness and pretending everything was okay could change that fact, especially when everyone continued to talk about what happened as if it was the only murder/suicide ever to happen. That kind of crime happens every day in different parts of the world, and as sad as it was, it'll keep happening.

But she had nothing to do with the crime her father committed.

Her eyes burned. She planted her hands on the counter and closed her eyelids, letting the unshed tears ease the discomfort.

She would not cry.

What she'd said to Bane had to be done. She would walk out the front door, get in her Jeep, and go to work with a smile.

Anyone looking wouldn't suspect a thing was wrong because she was happy. So fucking happy.

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