Page 119 of Diem

With a humorless smile I whisper, “Yes.”

A weird groan passes his lips, and he leans over, rubbing his face. I stare at his broad shoulders as he does, remembering how beautiful he looked in the moonlight when he undressed in front of me.

“Stay away from him or I will kill him,” he says firmly.

“Like your dad?” I whisper, cringing when he stiffens.

“What do you know about it?”

I’ve wondered about it since I learned he was missing. I mean, I saw the bruises when he was a kid before he got big enough to fight back. And then his dad mysteriously disappears? Kind of like Patrick, who’s blamed the whole thing on Diem. What happened that night?

“So, it’s true?”

Dropping his chin, he stands and paces away. “He was beating on my mom…”

Closing my eyes, I nod. We may be worlds apart, but I can’t blame him for defending himself or his mom. Frank McCafferty was a savage.

I suppose my father’s proclivities make more sense now, considering the dangerous men he supposedly fishes with.

Shaking my head, I rub my aching temples.

“Mae?” Diem says, but I ignore him, laying down on my side and closing my eyes. After a moment, the bed dips before his heat envelops me.

“You shouldn’tbe here,” I say.

“Fuck that. There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

His warmth feels so good, but I can’t give in. If I do, he may kill me. I don’t mean that in the figurative sense. I’m dangling by a thread, here.

“Diem, if you didn’t really sleep with her, why did you make me believe it?” I ask. I’ve been rolling his words over in my head since he said them, and I can’t get past it. Is this the reason he dropped me?

“It’s complicated,” he mutters.

“It matters to me,” I insist.

“Maeve,” he starts, and I roll my eyes. I guess we’re back to enemies now. “It’s complicated. It was easier to just break away.”

“Break away? You didn’t just break away, Diem. You dated my worst enemy. You treated me horribly. This is more than breaking away.”

My heart hurts at even that small confession because for me it could never have been that easy. How could he forsake years of friendship in the blink of an eye?

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, and I sag against the mattress.

Sadly, I wonder if I’ll ever have the answers I deserve.

“I have to go.”

“Of course, you do,” I mumble.

“Look…I—“

“Just go.”

He chuffs but says, “I’ll be back.”

I don’t bother to answer. What’s the point?

When he’s at the window, he pauses though and my heart pounds in my throat as he says quietly, “I’ve seen things…done things that I’m not proud of. What if, one day, when you look at me, that’s all you see too?”

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