Page 57 of The Shadows We Keep

Her head shakes, but the tightness in her shoulders tells me she still isn’t sure if she wants to hear more.

“I told you the other night about her and the accident. But what I left out is you’re her damn clone. If I didn’t know her family, I’d swear you guys were sisters. Shit, twins even. That’s how much you guys look alike.”

She pulls against my tightening hold at my candor, wincing at my words.

My hands drift against her cheeks, grasping and directing her eyes at me. She closes them tightly when she can’t turn away.

“I’m sorry.” I know this must be hurting her, for all the limited time we’ve spent together she’s wormed her way into my heart and, seeing her react like this, does nothing but stab my favorite knife through it.

I should have hidden her file better. Put it in the safe where she wouldn’t have been able to break in so easily.

She sniffles. “Harkin.” Her weak plea plunges the knife in a little deeper.

“I’m so sorry.” I drop kisses across her face. Meeting every inch tinged with her emotions. I want to wipe them away with my lips. Letting her know it doesn’t matter. I’m here with her. It was just a need for more information. My inquisitive mind never resting once a puzzle presents itself.

“Harkin, No!” Her declaration settles me. I drop my hands, lifting her back into her own space next to me on the mattress. Creating distance between us so she can breathe; process. Hanging my head, I sigh in resignation, digging around for the right words to help her understand.

“That only started the curiosity. It was never the reason.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Watching you in the cab snapped something back into place for me. It’d been almost a year since I cut myself off from everyone back home, started building a life for myself here. I isolated myself because I didn’t deserve any different. Then you came along, and I found a reason again. And maybe that’s not fair to you, but how do you ignore the feeling in your chest like the elephant that’s been living there for months is finally gone? You don’t.”

“Yeah, that’s great and all, but you could have just come up to me at the pizza shop and continued our conversation. This, this is just—” Her thought trails off. The silence building between us. I shift uncomfortably.

“Can I ask you something?” Her tone’s laced with resentment.

“I think you’ve earned that right at this point.”

“Why use the notes? Why didn’t you just step up and step in?”

“The notes.” I heave in a deep breath, blowing it out slowly through pursed lips. “It wasn’t the right time.”

She shoots off the bed, whirling on me from across the room. The anger pooling in her golden eyes radiates off her in waves. She looks ready to throw hands, and can I really blame her?

“At Luigi’s? And the club? My Apartment? Oh, my, god.” Her hands shoot up, veiling her face, a flustered screech spilling from behind them. The sound ceases. Then she’s in front of me. The quick stinging slap slices against my cheek. “You watched me, sent cryptic as hell notes, but it wasn’t the right time? What the hell kind of bullshit excuse is that?” Her fists clutch at her sides, her knuckles turning white to staunch her anger.

“Keira please, I can explain.” This time, I see the shift in her stance before her hand hurtles toward my face, and her fist is closed. This girl never ceases to amaze me. Blocking her attempt and clutching her wrist, I yank her into me, wrapping my arms around her as she bucks and flails against my hold. Her head catches my chin. I hiss at the pain, but my grip doesn’t loosen.

“Calm down, little one.” She stiffens at the term. “I know you’re pissed but stop fighting me. I won’t let you hit me again.” Her movements slow, her body gradually relaxing into mine.

“That’s it,” I whisper against her hair, releasing my grip to rub her back.

Her body disappears from my hold, the emptiness stings. She blurs through the open door, her footsteps pattering against the hardwood. I sink further into the mattress, pissed at myself that I let this situation slip through my fingers.

When I finally locate her, she’s shoving her legs through a pair of my running joggers and rolling them at her hips. She’s drowning in them, but that doesn’t stop her from ripping one of my sweatshirts from a hanger and sliding it on over her crop top.

“Harkin, don’t!” Her tone is cold, indifferent. She’s pulling away, disappearing into that beautiful head of hers, where I have no chance of reaching.

My feet ache to go to her, wrap her in my arms, calm the temper raging inside, but I can tell she needs space. I stick to the door frame and watch as she searches for her phone and slides on a pair of running shoes.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out. I just can’t be here right now.”

“At least take James. He’s out-front waiting.” Her eyes swing to mine, there’s a war raging within them to disagree with me. Wanting to fight me for another inch when I feel like I’m giving her a whole fucking mile.

She stops next to me and drops her phone in my hand. I cringe. Without this on her, I won’t know exactly where she is, and she must know it. She brushes past and within seconds; I hear the front door latch. My legs carry me swiftly to the windows to view the street downstairs. I watch as she exits and turns left, away from the waiting SUV.

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