Page 94 of Unspoken Promises

She slides her phone back in her pocket, and though we’ve shared many silent moments, this one is louder than any I’ve ever had before.

“Are you sure about that? Is later a good time?” I don’t mean to allow accusation in my tone, but it’s there.

My mind swirls with the various options of how to deal with the and pros and cons of anything I do. My instinct is always to grab everything in my life by two hands, take the wheel, and drive it to where it needs to go. But Ava has a delicate history with control…

Still, it’s not my style to relinquish. And sometimes, I hate to admit, I’m not sure she understands just how bad these people are who kept her. In fact, she’s been so traumatized, I’m not sure she’s even considering it. The way she defended her uncle was unhealthy.

She grits her teeth. “Yeah. You only get an hour or two of free time today. Me, too. Let’s enjoy it.”

I offer a brief nod and let it rest.

Working in silence, I tack up the horses for us, not wanting one little bit to go out on the trails anymore, but I don’t want to raise hairs. It still could be nothing. Moreover, if I want to get her talking, there might be no better place than out on a hack. There’s something about the meditativesound of clopping hooves that gets a person confessing all sorts of things.

The silence grows louder onceAva is settled in, her round, peachy hips swaying on the saddle, reins loose in her hands, finally reassured that she remembers how to steer, stop, and lean into and out of hills. We’re hardly a hundred yards from the stable yard. Despite my attraction to her on that horse, I’m reeling.

Did she lie to me? Not only just now but that night after the fair? Was her number hacked, too, and she didn’t report it?

The only sounds between us are birds chirping, the occasional sneeze from my mare, and dust crunching under horse hooves. Nature usually calms me with its gentleness, grounding me into the present. But today, the sounds grate in my ears like nails on a chalkboard, because the longer Ava waits to talk to me about that text she received, the more I realize there will be no peace until I know.

I’m wound up like never before thinking she’s protecting a monster. Thinking her father might be after her again. Or her uncle. It doesn’t seem like she’s going to be forthcoming, and I have to say, that, too, twirls my veins into even tighter coils.

She said she trusted me. She said she felt safe with me.

And like I said before, when you fall, you act out of character. Just like I do when I find myself unable to control my tongue any longer.

“Rio said the cell number breaches were only on four numbers.”

It’s a fine line between baiting someone to tell you something and offering them an opening. I’m so wound up I’m not really sure which one I’m doing. But we need to fucking talk or I’m going to go crazy.

“Yeah?” She doesn’t make eye contact, gazing at nothing in particular up ahead.

“Yup.” I pop the p. My temper is rising.

She doesn’t miss it and spins her gaze on me. We stare at each other for what feels like a century. My eyes are almost painful with begging. I need her to open up. Willingly. Or maybe this thing between us isn’t what I think it’s becoming. I thought she was mine. Mine to support. Mine to protect.

There’s something similar between the expression on her face at the fair and the one in the stable. Her features transform as she chews on what I said. I give her time, even though I want to push. I want to tug.

Being patient with her before all this happened between us was bad enough. Now it’s stretching my self-restraint.

The relief her next words offer are less like comfort and more like the dam finally breaking.

“I should have told you.” Her chest heaves with emotion; she’s struggling to get the words out. “Uh…” She swallows hard. “My number must have been part of that hack. That night at the fair was… a hack.”

I want to reward her honesty but I can’t. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She doesn’t answer. She can’t even face me.

“Why, Ava? You said you cared about GhostEye. You didn’t think a data breach was worth reporting to a man you supposedly cared about?”

She whips her head to me with a dare in her gaze. “Don’tput that in the past tense, Enzo. Idocare about you. But it’s not that simple.”

“I don’t need simple. I think you know that.” I want to bite back my words but I don’t because there’s no time to waste on patience anymore as dread fills my gut. “Was it your father?”

Her eyes widen, and tears immediately gloss their surface.

Fuck. Please say no…

Her jaw tightens. “My uncle.”

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