Page 71 of Deja Who
THIRTY-SEVEN
“You’re going back to your life, Archer.” Leah spoke with a firmness he was sure she didn’t feel. “And I’m going back to mine.”
He spoke without thinking, and wasn’t sorry. “You don’t have a life and youaremy life.”
“Stop it,” she said absently, looking for a cab.
“Youstop it, I’ll drive you home, obviously.”
“No. And where the hell are the cabs? I can’t be the only newly released detainee in the history of Chicago to leave a police station and require a ride.”
“You’re not listening. I’ll give you a ride and you’re my life.”Nope, still not sorry.
“You sound like a Hallmark movie. Is it intentional?”
He was now a tiny bit sorry, and pulled up short at that—she’d been tugging him by the elbow out of the police station and ontothe sidewalk, and they were both blinking at each other in the sudden sunshine. “You’re not breaking up with me—”
She made an impatient gesture, the kind busy restaurant patrons make when they’re asked if they want dessert and they don’t; they’re in a rush for the bill. “We’ve been over this. Several seconds ago, remember? I cannot break up with someone I’m not dating. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a funeral to plan.” She looked like she wasn’t at all sure how to feel about that. “Run along.”
He scowled at her. “I’m older than you, for Christ’s sakes, don’t dismiss me like a kid off to naptime.” Anger deepened his voice, but his crossed arms probably showed his stress.Oh God she’s doing it she’s freaked she can’t see me and freaked my dad’s in prison and freaked because her mom was murdered and oh God I can’t let her do this I won’t let her do this.
“Older. Hmm.” Leah’s eyes were tipped up in thought. “I always seem to forget. And then I remember, and it goes on the list.”
“List?”
“The list I’ve been compiling of all the reasons you would be an incompatible intercourse partner.”
“If you’re gonna call me your ‘intercourse partner,’ we should definitely break up,” he said at once, then slapped his forehead. “Argh, see? The worst has happened. I’ve gone and said something I can’t take back.”
“Stop hiding behind humor to cover your anxiety.”
“I’ll hide behind whatever I want to cover my anxiety,” he snapped back.
Leah blinked, but went on. He was pretty sure she would goon if he had a heart attack on the spot. “Speaking of the worst, you need to vanish from my life now.”
He nodded like she’d said something he agreed with. She hadn’t, but this—this he could work with, at least. “I don’t blame you for being upset, but I swear to you, I was going to tell you about my dad. Nellie knew and it didn’t bother her, and so much has happened this week I never had a chance to bring it up.”
“I made a list in jail, all the excuses not to think about what these last weeks have meant, and realized making a list of reasons why you put off something unpleasant is proof of cowardice. And it’s not about your father. Or Nellie wouldn’t have given a shit.”
“Of course it is!” he snapped. Then, “What?”
“Of course my mother knew your family’s history; she would have checked it out. Remember, in her mind she was a huge celebrity and that’s what a huge celebrity would do. So she knew, she just did not give a shit, which is what I’m ninety-five percent sure I’ll be chiseling onto her tombstone. Ugh.”
She slapped a hand over her eyes and wouldn’t look at him. “I’ve been trying to suppress the memory but I just realized I’ll eventually have to go to the playing of her will. Hervideowill, because of course she would never refuse the opportunity to perform. If she’s wearing the birthday outfit with all the feathers, I will somehow reanimate her corpse and then kill her all over again.” She took her hand away and speared him with her shark’s eyes. Cold. Nobody home behind them. “You were perfect for her. You aren’t perfect for me.”
“You’re wrong.” He stood quietly on the sidewalk, ignoring the stares as people streamed by. “You’re not dumping mebecause of my murdered uncle, are you? And you don’t think I killed your mom.” No. Stupid to even consider that for a moment. Who would know better than the maddening creature before him that you weren’t what your parent was? It hadn’t given a shit, and Leah didn’t, either.
That was worse. That made it all so much worse.
“We have nothing in common.”
“We both think you can be kind of bitchy,” he suggested.
“Very well, we have one thing in common. That, and our continual need for oxygen to survive. And you’re far too stubborn.”
“Oh my God, the pot has spoken! You don’t fool me at all, Leah Nazir. It’s the life-blind thing, isn’t it? You thought you could handle it and you can’t, so you’re pitching me over the side.”
“That’s not it,” she said at once, so he recognized the lie.
