Page 82 of Aftertaste

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “You said that. Except, I—” He frowned at her. “Maura, I’ve seen you do that before. That little—like a little death.”

“What?When?”

He shrugged. “That first night at your place. A few other times we slept together. Your eyes just go… empty.”

“Maybe you’re just that good.”

“Stop deflecting? Please?”

She looked away, at the hospital monitor, the peaks and valleys of her heart rate, the gentle drip of the saline bag.

“Maur?” he tried again. “I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

She shook her head, strained on a smile. “It’s nothing. You don’t have to worry, okay? I can handle it.”

“Yeah?” He traced her wrist again, the puckered skin, the scars she’d put there. “Then tell me about these. A time when I’m guessing you couldn’t handle it?”

She snatched her hand away. “Those are from a long time ago.”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.” He shifted closer to her, leaning in, as if he could bridge the gap between them all by himself. “I saw something happen to you tonight. I carried you into an emergency room thinking you might die in my arms. I watched a bunch of doctors take you through a swinging door, without any certainty that you were coming back. And I’m still here. I willalwaysbe here. But I deserve the truth.”

Maura took a breath. Nodded.

“When this happened,” she said at last, “all I wanted was to die. Things had gotten so out of hand that it felt like my only choice. But now? I’m not that person anymore. I want to live, Stan. I fight every day to make sure I do.”

“What things? Fightwhat?”

She stared at the IV entering her vein, the way it bulged the scarred skin. Something had happened to her. Something that was maybe still happening.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” Kostya said, setting his jaw. “Then let’s talk about the Reese’s.”

She looked up at him. Deer. Headlights. “The Reese’s?”

He nodded. “I’ve been tasting them again. A lot. Even though I already brought Everleigh back.”

She was breathing fast now, one of the little sensors attached to her beginning to beep.

“You never told me.”

“Because when I raised her you were—I don’t know—weird? Secretive? You didn’t exactly jump at the chance when I first offered, and when you finally did come around, you sent me away.” He could feel it all coming up, vomiting out of him. All these thoughts he’d had for weeks, had shoved down out of respect, a desire to wait till Maura was ready to share. But he couldn’t wait anymore. “Which, okay, I get you needed privacy, but then you never brought it up again! You never told me what you talked about, or if you even got closure. I didn’t want to pry, but—God, Maura, not a word? And you said she’d had issues. That she lived withdarkness? And now I keep tasting her, which hasn’t happened withanyof the other ghosts, and you’ve got those scars, and mysteriousthingsfrom your past, and there’s all these moments when you’re, what? Dead? Dying? Jesus, is she haunting you? Is she”—his voice broke—“hurtingyou? Whatever it is—let me help you.Please.”

Something cold flashed in her eyes. Hard. A wall, slamming back in place.

“Look, Stan,” she said slowly, “what happened is between me and Ev. No one else. That conversation—seeing her again—it’s private. I haven’t asked you—not once!—why you haven’t brought your father back. Because I trust you to handle your grief. And I need you to trust me.”

“But it’s not the same thing! She’sdoingsomething to you!”

“No.” Maura shook her head. “This isn’t Everleigh.”

“Then what is it?”

She gazed out the window, her eyes shining, face resigned, and shrugged.

“You heard the doctors. It could be a lot of things.”

“But you have no idea? None at all?”

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