Page 77 of Devil's Thirst

No one ever knows how a relationship will evolve. That’s the risk you take.

I don’t like risks.

Maybe this one’s worth it.

Sante wants to know whether I’m willing to take that chance. He’s watching me, his turbulent stare pleading with me to try. What do I tell him?

“I … I don’t know.” The words sound as fragile as I feel. I’m standing on a frozen lake, the ice at my feet cracking and groaning no matter which direction I go.

“I want to show you something.” Sante comes closer and gingerly takes my hand as though he’s worried his touch might scare me.

I don’t pull away. Even knowing everything he’s done, the warm certainty of his hand in mine brings me the comfort I desperately crave. One step at a time, he leads me back to the safety of my apartment, where Freya is anxiously waiting for me.

I reassure her that everything is okay. Her joy at seeing me helps to fortify me. When I return my attention to Sante, he takes my hand and places a small tarnished ring on my palm.

“Youkept the monsters away for me,” he tells me, voice raw with vulnerability. “When I was sleeping in a barn on dirt floors, thoughts of you gave me hope. At that wedding, I could see my own demons reflected in your eyes, yet you fought them back with such strength. I knew that if whatever had brought you that sort of pain was possible to overcome, then there was hope that I could do the same.”

I stare in disbelief at the evil eye ring I gave him that night. Despite what he implied when he told me about his tattoo, he kept the ring. He still has it with him to this day.

“I wasn’t winning against the demons. I was drowning,” I admit, a sob clawing its way up my throat as I curl my hand into a tight fist around the ring. “You were the one who gavemehope. Any light in my eyes that night was there because of you. Because for the first time, I didn’t feel alone.”

It’s the truth. I’d be foolish not to admit it.

Sante reaches for me, but I step back to keep space between us.

“I need some time to think.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. Every ounce of his blistering intensity is a laser boring into me. “Nothing has changed, Mellie. I’m the same man I was this morning.”

“I know, but I still need to think this through.”

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair and turns toward the window. “An hour. Is an hour enough?” He looks back, and I’m almost tempted to smile because his gaze is so full of ardent pleading. He’s almost commanding me to forgive him.

“I don’t know, Sante. There’s no instruction manual for this sort of thing.”

His jaw flexes, and his phone buzzes again.

“See who it is. There could be a problem,” I urge him.

He sighs and pulls the phone out, his forehead creasing with concern. “It’s Conner. Shit, I forgot.”

“What?”

“I was supposed to go see Noemi today.”

He answers the phone, and Conner’s voice on the other end is so harsh that I can hear him several feet away.

“Yeah, okay. I hear you,” he clips back, his voice straining against his own anger. “I’ll be over in a minute.”

Sante grimaces. “Guess you get your time alone.”

“I have Freya with me, and we’re not going anywhere,” I try to assure him, knowing he worries about me. “I just need some time to process.”

He peers down at my new shadow sitting patiently by my side and nods. “I’ll be back soon.”

Then he’s gone, taking my strength with him. My legs feel like they might buckle.

“Come on, girl. Let’s watch a movie.” I curl up on the couch with a blanket and encourage Freya to join me. She’s a little reluctant at first—Cartwright must not have allowed her on thefurniture. But once she’s settled, she happily lays her head on my legs.

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