Page 50 of Even if You Fall

“So, don’t take me there,” she said on a slightly frantic laugh. “Leave me somewhere. Anywhere.” When I started arguing that I couldn’t—that it was my job to keep her in my sights all week—she hurried to continue. “Why can’t you just tell your family the truth? Do they know what you do?”

“They do,” I said slowly, even as my head shook and I prepared to tell her why that wouldn’t matter.

But her hand was already gesturing between us as she said, “Then tell them why we’re here. Tell them why I’m with you. Tell them it’s nothing.”

“You don’t know my family,” I told her carefully.

“Then leave me at a hotel,” she said as if she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t seeing that as a reasonable option—as the only option.

“What part ofI can’tare you not getting?” I bit out. “I can’t, Chloe. I need to keep you with me.”

“Then stay with me,” she shouted back in her near hysteria, only to quickly backtrack as heat flooded into her cheeks. “Wait, wait...not like that. That isn’t what I meant. I just meant, like, staythere. In the same place. Notwithme.”

“And ruin everything we’re doing?” I challenged darkly. “Mafia families are smart. The Wreckers will know it’s entirely possible we split up you, Lainey, and Kaia, and they might look into it. So, in case anyone follows us or is watching our banking activity, Rush needs to go through New York like he’s the onlyone there, and I need to go through this trip like normal. Not showing up to my parents’ house wouldn’t be normal.” I pointed out of the parking garage. “Which also means, we need to get you some clothes and get to my parents’ house before the Wreckers can even decide to send a scout.”

Chloe stared at me for so long that I was sure she was going into shock over the idea of pretending to be my girlfriend before she frantically searched through her bag to pull out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked when she started tapping on the screen, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“I refuse to spend a week lying to people—especially people I don’t even know,” she mumbled as she continued tapping. “I refuse to trick anyone into believing I’m dating someone—especially a man who hates me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

A disbelieving scoff bled from her lips, but before I could remind her we’d already had this conversation, I caught sight of what was on her phone.

Flights from Denver to Dallas.

“Don’t—what are you doing?” she cried as I ripped the phone from her grasp.

“Saving you, you infuriating woman.”

“I’m pretty sureI’msavingyou,” she argued as she fought to get the phone back. One of her arms wildly reaching as I held the other away by the wrist.

Locking the screen, I let her phone fall to the floor near my feet so I could grasp her other wrist, and softly demanded, “Tell me why it bothers you so much.”

Surprise had her hazel eyes widening before she gave a harsh shake of her head and flexed her hands. “What do you mean? This whole situation clearly bothers you too.”

“Not that,” I murmured, even though she was right. “Why does it bother you to lie to people, when earlier, you said you want to live a lie.”

Even if I hadn’t been holding her mostly upright, I would’ve seen the way her body sagged at the implication. I would’ve seen the pain that flashed in those eyes as she glanced away because it was the farthest she could get from me right then.

“I don’t lie to people because I enjoy it,” she finally admitted. “I lieforpeople.”

“What do you mean?” I asked when she didn’t elaborate.

When she glanced back at me, her hazel eyes were glassy with tears that never fell. “Think I’m a threat,” she whispered, the words breaking at the end. “Don’t trust me. Hate me, Adam, I don’t care. But I don’t owe you any of the things you keep demanding to know about my life.”

I should’ve told her my suspicions would only grow the more she kept things from me, but that would’ve been a lie of my own. So, I just bobbed my head before I found myself saying, “Told you I don’t hate you, Bubbles.”

Her eyebrows lifted, but a deep sadness settled over her as she pulled her wrists free. “Maybe the day you stop seeing me as a threat will be the day I believe you.” Just as she reached for the handle of the door, she stopped and slanted her head my way again. “I’m guessing you packed a jacket?”

“Hoodie,” I confirmed.

“Only one?” she asked as her head tilted a little more so those eyes could search me.

“Two,” I answered, unsure of where she was going with this, even as she nodded and popped open the door.

“If you’re not letting me go back to Texas, and if you won’t drop me off at a hotel, then we should just go to the bakery and head to your parents’ house.”

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