Page 11 of Marked

I swallow around the ball of nerves that’s moved up to my throat now that we’re alone again. Everything about him is intense, and it sets my insides on fire. But when he touches me, it all just sizzles away, and I’m at ease again.

“I’m not lying.” I promise. “I did go to high school with them.”

He searches my features.

“But there’s more.” Little wrinkles appear around his eyes as he narrows them.

“I don’t even know you.” I try to pull away, but he tightens his grasp on my chin, holding me steady. “You’re being very bold.”

“You will. I promise. But first, tell me, why did that girl make you feel so on edge? What did she mean by calling you shadow?”

My stomach knots up again.

“It’s a horrible nickname. That’s all.” I wrap my hand around his wrist. “Really, they’re just girls I went to high school with. Josephine’s a bitch, always has been.”

He moves his gaze to my hand.

“I think there’s more here, but I understand you need time.” He lets go of my chin and leans back into his chair. His knee presses against mine, though.

“You’re new here you said, but I saw you the other day. And yesterday.” I try for a lighthearted giggle. “You weren’t following me, were you?”

His lips quirk up to the right. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he brings his coffee cup to his lips and takes a long sip.

I look away from him, at the cars driving by on the street. I shouldn’t have gone out today. I should be staying out of the public eye until this week is over. This week is always the worst one of the year. It’s better when I’m not around, reminding everyone.

Townsend County spans over five hundred miles, most of them farmland. Hazel Corners is the main town in the county. Half the population of the county lives within these twenty square miles. Running into people from my past is inevitable.

An alarm rings, and he pulls out his phone, glancing at it before swiping away thenotification.

I’m saved.

“I have a meeting I need to get to.” He puts his phone away. “I’ll ask an easy question. Why is this time of year hard on your mother?”

There’s something so comfortable about his hard tone. It takes away my choice of whether or not to give in. I’m going to do what he says, because of him, because he’s not giving me room to run away.

“It’s because of something that happened a long time ago.” I scoot back in my chair, ready to get up. He’s leaving now, so I can go back inside where it’s air conditioned, and I can read my book.

“What happened, Harley?” He digs into his wallet and pulls out a business card.

“You’re going to be late for your meeting,” I say.

He puts his hand on top of mine, drawing my attention to him again.

“Tell me.”

I swallow.

“My sister was killed.” The words flow out on a long breath. After eleven years, I would think it would be easier to say the words. But it still feels like someone else is talking when I say them.

His expression doesn’t move. Did he already know? Most people are a little shocked when I say it out loud.

“We were kidnapped, and he killed her. Not me.” I pause. “We were twins. She was popular, pretty, had a lot of friends. They called me her shadow - that’s where the nickname came from.”

“Josephine had a lot of attitude for it to be just a bad nickname from school,” he pushes.

“She blames me. A lot of them blame me. The shadow survived.” I try to laugh it off, but I only end up huffing.

“They blame you because between you and your sister, you weren’t chosen?”

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