Page 78 of Reading Between the Lines
“We aren’t a team until you finish that—”
“Would you lay off? I have ten training hours left. That’s it. Ten. I’m ninety percent investigator.”
“Eighty.”
“Do not point out my poor math skills. It’s good enough. You aren’t leaving me behind.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“Tallus—” The growl in my tone intensified. It had less to do with unfinished training hours and more to do with the anxiety that surfaced every time I relived our previous excursion. I didn’t want him out there. Exposed. In danger.
My boyfriend pinned me with a look of contempt. “Try it, Guns. I dare you. You think I’m feisty now? I will make your head spin, and not in a good way, if you leave me behind.”
I stabbed a finger on the table, lowering my voice since we were drawing attention. “There is a man out there with a fucking rifle who isn’t going to ask us twice to please leave. His dog wanted to disembowel you, or have you forgotten?”
His Adam’s apple rose and fell. Oh, he remembered. I had a feeling he wouldn’t soon forget that treat. Neither would I. It had shaken me to my core.
“So it’s okay for you to go but not me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because… Because it just is. I’m not taking you. That’s final.”
Tallus pressed his lips together as he scanned the diner. A high flush painted crescents on his cheeks. Instant regret swamped my system. He was mad. No, he was livid, and Tallus was not a man who was easily angered.
My heart raced as he avoided my gaze. The words,I want you safe. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt, clung to the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t find the courage to say them. Saying them meant acknowledging something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
Eventually, Tallus shifted to face me. He lifted his chin, sass and iron will colliding on the surface. “No.”
“No?”
“No. You don’t get to put me in a box. You don’t get to decide what’s good for me or not. It’s either safe enough for both of us or none of us. Decide.”
I didn’t know what to say and gawped like a fish drowning on air. This relationship thing was new and terrifying. More and more frequently, I caught these sudden urges to do exactly that; put Tallus in a box. Keep him safe from all the dangers in the world. The thought of anyone or anything causing him harm set my blood on fire.
Both of us or none of us, and he was serious. I wouldn’t change his mind.
Since I couldn’t ignore the hunch telling me to go back to the woods to see the cabin, a cabin that was quite possibly on the twins’ property, I conceded. “Fine.” The single word came out both strained and snappy.
Our meals arrived at that exact moment, and I didn’t miss the surreptitious glance from our waitress.
Tallus didn’t pick up his fork. He didn’t acknowledge the food at all. He stared, hurt bleeding from his hazel eyes.
“I said you can come with me.”
“I know.”
“You’re still mad.”
“No.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
He glanced at his plate instead but didn’t eat.
