Page 46 of Who's Saving You
His eyes narrow. “You need sweet. Got it.”
I sit down across from him, pulling my legs up beneath me. “You’ve been quiet today.”
“So have you.”
“Yeah, well. Hard to find conversation starters when the guy you’re living with might be an actual criminal.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Might be?”
“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
He turns toward me, resting his arm along the back of the couch. “That’s more than I expected.”
“I’m trying,” I say honestly. “I don’t think I’ve stopped trying since the moment I walked into this.”
His jaw ticks, like he wants to say something but can’t find the right words. Instead, he studies me. “I know itsucks and the moment was pretty abrupt, but you’ve handled this better than most would.”
“Yes, handling being kidnapped and told to quit my day job is working for me. Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
He laughs. “It’s true. And you need to stop saying you were kidnapped. I didn't throw you into a van. You willingly walked in here.”
I roll my eyes, but my chest tightens anyway. “I’ve been living with you for three days, Nik. You don’t know me. Keep your compliments.”
“There she is. The Pitbull reporter is back.”
“It’s the only way to be in this world. Take ownership of yourself and your surroundings. I’m after the truth, always, no matter the cost.”
“The truth can cost a lot.” He clears his throat. “But you’re safe here,” he adds immediately.
“I know that, but that’s not what I’m getting at.” He goes quiet. I watch his fingers flex against the glass in his hand. “I feel like I can breathe here and around you. Like maybe you really are the saint they all say you are.”
“Good. I’m doing my job then.”
“But then I remember what I saw at the club. What you won’t say.”What Trevor said.
He leans forward slightly, gaze locked on mine. “You want full transparency? That’s not something I can give.”
“I figured.” I’m quiet for a moment before saying, “I received a weird email last week. It was after those guys approached me on the street.” His eyes cut to me, and his lips draw into a straight line. “It was just a picture of me walking down the street.”
“Where were you coming from?”
Fuck. Now I have to tell him. “I had interviewed Trevor earlier in the day.”
“Gamóto.” He all but throws his glass down on the table; how it doesn't shatter is beyond me. “Motherfucker, are you fucking kidding me? You–”
“I told you I talked to him!”
He shakes his head and stands. “I know that, I just–Fuck, this is bad.” He walks to the windows, then turns to face me with his hands on his hips. “What did he say?”
I hold his stare.It’s now or never, Noelle. Tell him what you know to be true, even if you can’t prove it. “He said you threw that game.”
His eyes narrow at me, and a shadow seems to cover his face. “No, he didn't."
He didn’t deny it.“Well, not in all those words, but he did tell me to ask you something.”
He walks closer to me. “Oh? What's that?”
There’s something about the way he’s standing here, questioning me, like I'm in the hot seat. Like I'm the criminal in all of this. And I swear I won’t admit that he’s as handsome as ever doing it. “He told me to ask you what happens to the saint after dark.”
