Page 18 of Dark Memories
“Not going there with you, Zach.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and the desire to have those days back—to the time when she was his and he was hers and making love to the sound of cartoons was the highlight of his Saturdays—hit him so hard that he put his hand on his chest in an attempt to ease his pounding heart.
Christ, he’d fucked up so badly with her.
“Still read those true-crime stories?” he said in an attempt to get back on solid ground.
He was a reader of just about anything. It had been his escape as a boy growing up in a troubled home. Reading about adventures or mysteries or alien worlds had taken him away from the screaming matches of his parents, and after his father had left, reading had made him forget his sadness that his family had fallen apart. What he didn’t read or understand wanting to was true-crime stories. Who the hell wanted to read that kind of morbid shit?
Delaney did, that was who. He got that she was trying to understand human nature and why some people were warped or evil, why some people did what they did. That had never stopped him from thinking she was a little crazy when it came to her reading preferences.
“Just read one recently that even I was putting off because it’s just too sick. It’s about—”
“Stop right there. I don’t want to know.”
She chuckled. “Right. You used to never let me tell you about the Ted Bundys of the world.”
“Still don’t want to hear about them. What about boyfriends? Any of those around?”
“None of your business.”
He probably shouldn’t have asked that question, but he wanted to know if she’d loved someone again. He hadn’t.
“Any girlfriends around?”
From the way she was chewing on her bottom lip, it had cost her to ask that. “I’ll answer if you will.” How badly did she want to know? If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t bite.
She huffed an annoyed sigh. “The answer is no.”
And the one he was hoping for. “Same for me. No.” Had that been the hint of a pleased smile tugging at her lips?
Chapter Seven
Harry closed her eyes and wished herself out of this car and away from Zach. She opened her eyes. Surprise! She was still here. It was annoying to the nth degree that she’d held her breath until hearing hisno. Even worse, she’d almost smiled from the pleasure of his answer.
What in the ever-loving hell was happening to her that one tiny two-letter word had suddenly rocketed itself to the best word ever?
“That’s enough touchy-feely talk. Don’t do it again. Who all has your personal phone number?”
She shouldn’t like his amused smile so much, the one that said he was on to her. She didn’t want him to be able to read her, not anymore. “Stop it,” she said.
“Stop what, Delaney?”
“It’s Harry.”
“Not in a million—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ll never call me Harry.” She waved a dismissive hand toward him. “We’re done with personal talk.”
He muttered something that sounded like, “I’ll never be done with you.”
She sucked the inside of her cheek between her teeth and bit down to keep from asking if that was what he’d actually said and if he meant it.
“Your phone. Who knows that number?” The worry for his daughter returned to his eyes, and it hit her that for a few minutes, he’d let her take his mind off Kali. The urge to comfort him, to wrap her arms around him and hold him was growing stronger by the minute.
“That would be Kali, of course, Larson, James, Jackie, Cinda, my mother, all three of my brothers, and a few close friends.” He glanced at the house across from them. “Of the other people on my list, John knows it from when he worked for me. Arturo never had it, but his father did.”
“We need to find out where Arturo is,” she said.
