Page 54 of When He Protects

“Like that’s all you are.”

So he hadn’t denied the charge.

“But there’s more to you than that,” he surprised her by adding. “In my experience, people are very rarely just one thing in this world. Hell, even serial killers have families. A man who has killed four people could still be the most devoted father you ever saw. A guy who goes to every soccer game that his son has. Never misses a family dinner.”

It took her a moment to actually be able to speak. “Are you comparing me to a serial killer?” Just so they were clear.

“Nah. Because you aren’t evil.”

Her breath rushed out. “Well, that’s something, I suppose. But, please, try not to overwhelm me with your fancy compliments.”He doesn’t think you’re a serial killer, so, that’s something. Something crappy.

“It’s like armor, isn’t it, Esme? The way you just toss out your flippant comments to disarm and distract people.”

She heard the faint rustle of the blanket below her. When she strained her eyes, she was pretty sure that she could see that he’d shifted around a bit. Were his hands behind his head now as he just relaxed and stared up at her and absolutely picked her world apart?

“Are you scared for people to see the real you, Esme?”

“Didn’t realize I’d wake up and stumble into a late-night psychological evaluation. If I’d known that, I would have stuck to my nightmare.” She flopped back on the bed. Pulled the covers up to her chin and glared at the ceiling.

His soft laughter followed her. “Hardly a psychevaluation, but I think I am getting a pretty good handle on the real you.”

No, you’re not.“Do tell.”Don’t. Don’t say anything else, would you?

“How about we start with this? You had no clue if you could get to the girl in time.”

Esme swallowed. She also didn’t deny his words. How could she? They were dead accurate.Dead.Terrible key word.

“You didn’t know if the truck would stop or if it would roll right over you. See, you didn’t have time to think about all of that stuff. No way in hell did you have time to think about it.”

That had sounded like real anger breaking through in his voice. Esme rolled onto her side, but she did not poke her head over the edge of the bed again.

“I heard the mother talking to Clay. She said she looked up, saw her daughter going back for the teddy bear, and she could barely even get out a scream. Her daughter was too close to the truck.”

Esme blinked quickly. In the dark, he wouldn’t be able to see that her eyes had just filled with tears. Not that he could see her, anyway, not from her position. Because she’d hidden herself from him.I hide from everyone.

“You just ran out to grab her, didn’t you?” Tyler continued, relentless. “With no other thought except that a kid was going to die. You saw the girl. You saw the truck. And you knew you were the only one close enough to save her. But youdidn’tknow if you could both get away from the truck in time.”

“What can I say?” Soft. Mocking because that was all she could afford to be. “You should probably start calling me a hero. Maybe the town will throw me a parade.”

Silence.

I hate the silence. Hate it.At first, when she’d woken in that private hospital, it had been all she knew. She’d seen people talking. Seen their mouths moving. But there had been nothing for her to hear.

Then, after days—weeks—she’d heard what sounded like the ocean. A dull roar in her ears. It had shaken her nerves even as it both gave her hope and terrified her.

She would always hate silence. Esme scrambled for something to say. “Any word on the dead hitman?”

“No.”

Well, okay, that had hardly been a conversation starter.

The silence came again. Dammit. “Tyler…”

“Tell me about your nightmare.”

She didn’t want to do that. “Why don’t you tell me about one of yours?” Now she did poke her head over the bed once more. Almost as if she couldn’t help herself. Because she couldn’t. “Mr. Big, Bad U.S. Marshal. Surely you have the occasional nightmare, too? You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”

“You trying to find out what I fear so that you can manipulate me?”

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