Page 163 of Dark Love

“Have I told you that you’re nutty today?” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Maybe. Whatever it is, you don’t need to worry about me.”

He practically snorts.

Talk about cute. “Okay, only a little worrying then.”

“You’re all I think about.”

WOW. That got heavy fast.

“Since I carried you out of my club, all I’ve done is worry. What I’m about to do feels wrong? My job is to protect you, and instead, I’m about to expose you to more trauma. You can say no. Do not in any way feel obligated. Only do this if you believe it will benefit you.”

Um. This is odd.

“I’ve noticed your hand trembling and occasionally you act like you might have a panic attack.”

How did he—I haven’t been hiding it as well as I thought.

“When I carried you out, I hoped that—Anyway—This is stupid. They’ve got to be wrong.”

Huh? What could possibly have Vex this discombobulated? “Who is wrong?”

“A doctor. The doctors have to be wrong. Exposing you to more trauma can’t be good for you. I won’t do it.”

Doctors. Vex talked to a doctor about me. “What do you mean, exposing me to trauma?”

“You weren’t the only one that filth roofied.”

WHAT?

“One of the women survived.”

Survived. One. “How many?”

“Does the number really matter, Dahlia?”

It shouldn’t. “Tell me.” Don’t tell me. I want to hide under a blanket and pretend none of this happened.

“Hundreds.”

That many. Wait. “The serial killer they talked about on the news. That’s him. The man that tried to take me.”

Vex nods.

“They have a manhunt out for him.” They’ve plastered his face up everywhere.

“A fruitless hunt.”

My hand trembles a bit not from fear, because Vex just reminded me that the evil was permanently taken care of, but for the mark that lingers on Vex’s soul. It’s tempting to lean over and kiss him. To thank him in a simple but meaningful way.

But our first kiss shouldn’t be haunted by memories of evil. “Thank you.” I reach out and squeeze his hand.

“Don’t thank me until you hear the rest.”

The rest.

One survivor. “Someone survived.”