Page 135 of Say My Name

When the end of the night comes, and no one is around, Devereaux appears.

“Ready to go home?” he asks.

I nod, feeling a shift in the air. Maybe I should rip the band-aid off and tell him when we get to his house. “Yes.”

Devereaux doesn’t touch me as he leads me to my car in the lot. He follows me to his place, and once we’re inside, I sense something is wrong because he’s not saying a word.

“Bad night?” I ask.

He nods once, and turns away, walking into the kitchen with quick strides. I follow and watch as he pours himself a glass of scotch.

“Everything ok?” I ask.

He takes a long pull and sets the glass on the counter. “Who are you?”

His question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?” Does he know?

“Who are you?” he asks again. This time his tone is a bit stern. More sinister. A tone I’ve never heard from him. “Tell me.”

“I… I’m Chloe.” I won’t be the first to break. I stare into his eyes but they tell me nothing about what he’s thinking.

“You’re a cop,” he whispers, and lifts his glass to drain the contents.

Shit.

“Devereaux, I can explain.” But he’s no longer listening.

He slams the glass down and walks away.

I trail after him, following him out of the kitchen. “Devereaux, let me explain. I never planned for any of this to happen,” I tell him, hoping he can see everything from my point of view. “I never meant to fall for you.”

He spins around, stopping right in front of me. “Never meant to fall for me?” He laughs, but there’s no humor there.

I want to ask him how he found out, but I know that’s not the most important thing at hand right now. “I’m sorry. I…”

“Are you investigating me?” It doesn’t take a psychologist to know what this man is feeling, it’s obvious. It’s written in the dangerous planes and harsh curves of his scowling face. He’s furious.

I decide to be honest with him. “Yes, I was. More like I was investigating the club. Investigating all of it.”

He shovels a hand through his hair. “And? You think I killed those girls?”

I step closer. “No, never. I don’t think you’re a murderer. I think we’re getting really close to finding out who it is.”

He drops his hand, his whiskey-colored eyes darkening. “Was it your assignment to fuck me too?”

My mouth hangs open. How could he think so little of me? “No. How could you even think that?” I’ve made a mess of everything and there’s no way I can tell him about the baby now.

“Chloe, I don’t even know what to think.”

“Devereaux, please let me explain.” I move forward, but he takes a step back.

“There’s nothing to explain here. I never want to see you again. You’re fired obviously, and you need to leave.”

I stand my ground. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

He turns away, heading toward the staircase.

“Dev?” I call out, following him.

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