Page 98 of Reckless Hearts

“Bullshit.”

Her brows knit, her eyes peering at me. “Pardon me?”

“Skip the lame excuses and tell me what the fuck that was back there.”

Her jaw sets. “I told you. It wasnothing—”

“No,” I growl, cupping her face. “No more fucking secrets.”

She tenses up. “That’s not part of our deal.”

“I’m changing our deal.”

She scoffs dramatically, but I can still see the pain and the fear in her eyes—the part of her she’s trying to stuff deep down and keep hidden. Not just from me, but from herself.

“You don’t get to change the terms of our deal just because you—”

“Our deal changed the split second someone tried to hurt you!”

My words are like a slap in the face to both of us.

Shit.

I frown, and Dahlia’s brows lift curiously. I take a slow, measured breath, holding myself back.

“Tell me.”

“It’s really nothing,” she says tersely. “Drop it.”

“Bullshit. Not happening.Tell me.”

“It’snothing, Deimos!” she hisses, anger flushing her cheeks.

“It’snotnothing, and youaregoing to tell me.”

She bristles, her jaw clenching. But then she trembles in that kittenish way she has when I lean close and level my gaze with hers.

“Or do I have to fuck it out of you.”

Her face flushes. Her teeth clamp down on her lower lip as it retreats back. I can see the truthright there. It’s begging to be let out. But then it’s gone.

“Do whatever the hell you want,” she says flippantly. “I’m just your fuck toy, right?”

I’m about to push harder. But at that moment, something flickers deep in her irises, like a smoke signal rising from the depths of her soul. She glances away, but even in profile, I can still see it, flickering like a warning light as her throat works again, like she’s pushing something deep down back into its secret hiding place.

Oh. Fuck.

Suddenly, I understand. Suddenly, the truth reaches out and kicks me in the teeth with a vicious sneer and an even more vicious laugh.

Suddenly, I know what it is she’s hiding: she’sme.

Not me in the neurodivergent sense.

Me in the shattered past sense. Me in the broken sense.

Someone hurt her.

She doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t have to. Because once I get a hint of it, and once I tug at that thread with my mind, it all unravels and becomes clear as day to me.

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