Page 87 of What's Left of Us

“You were right,” I tell her, dropping my voice so only she can hear. “He’s not me, and he never will be.”

Through her lashes, she peeks up at me with those damn eyes. They’re glassy, pleading like she wants to say something. But what could she possibly say to me to make this okay? There is nothing.

“I expected a lot from you, but not this.” I have no doubt she can feel the fury radiating from me, despite my best efforts to keep it off my face.

Luca Carbone will not get the reaction he wants from me.

“I tried saving you once,” I murmur, shaking my head in disappointment. “But I don’t know if I have the energy to save you again. So now is your chance to tell me if you need it.”

Her lashes flutter, and the softest exhale escapes her lips before a quiet, “Lincoln…”

It’s a shame what happened to your colleague. Such a tragedy that should have been avoided.

“Tell me,” I urge, knowing our time is limited. I take another step closer, wanting nothing more than for her to beg me to take her with me—to get her far away from the person who caused us so much pain. “Tell me you need me. Because if you don’t…” I swallow, feeling the eyes of Luca Carbone burning holes into my back. But fuck him. Fuck him and fuck her family. “If you don’t, this is it, Georgia. If you let me walk away today without you, our memories will be what’s left of us. I can’t keep doing this with you. Not when he’s here in your life. Not after everything.”

Tell me he’s forcing you.

Tell me it’s blackmail.

Tell me you have no choice.

A man like Luca Carbone will only allow what he deems his to have so much freedom before suffocating it like a fire. To him, Georgia is an item. An object. Not a person. He sees her the same way Nikolas does—as a pawn to be traded and used when they see fit.

So why the hell is she here with him?

“Lincoln,” she whispers. “I need you…” Her eyes flicker toward Luca. When they find my face again, she takes a deep breath. “I need you to let this go. Let this all go. It’s for your own good.”

For my own—

“Who the hell are you?” I ask, my head moving back and forth as I stare at the stranger I used to call mine.

When she just stands there, I realize I’m not going to get what I want from her. There is no silent plea in her eyes, no desperation to get out. As those amber eyes skate over me, there’s not even an ounce of lust or love like there used to be. They’re hollow. Distant.

Standing before me is an empty shell of a woman I don’t even recognize anymore.

Luca Carbone steps in. “I think you’ve said enough, Detective. Don’t be desperate. It isn’t a good look on you.”

He’s baiting me.

Seeing what I’ll do.

My eyes stay on Georgia when I say, “I’ve said all I need to.” Finally, I peel my gaze away from her and toward the asshole in a tailored suit. “It’s ironic,” I tell him. “You’re telling me not to be desperate when you’ve been chasing after Georgia for years, waiting for her to finally choose you. It must be hard to swallow knowing she never fully will.”

Luca steps toward me until the toes of his polished shoes are pressed against my muddy boots. “And why is that?”

I simply smile. “Don’t you know? You’ll never be me.”

His eyes darken as I shoot him a smug smile, going to step around him now that there’s nothing left to say.

He stops me, grabbing my bad shoulder and squeezing the exact spot blanketed by scars until I suck in a harsh breath. “Whether you like it or not, I’m not the enemy.”

Nostrils flaring open at the pain shooting down my arm that he applies pressure on, I grab his wrist and yank him away from me. “You could have fooled me.” I step away first. “Enjoy my sloppy seconds, Carbone. And be sure to tell your father I said hello.”

As I walk toward the door, I dump the coffee he bought into the trashcan.

It’s twenty-five minutes past my session.

But I don’t care.

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