Page 61 of Deadly Passion

I arch an eyebrow.Someone’s thirsty.

“What?” He notices me watching. “It’s been a long day.”

I grab the control from the coffee table and turn off the TV.

“Hey!” His irritation rises. “I was watching that!”

We both know he wasn’t.

I sigh, pick up the phone to voice my words, and ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Aside from Beatrice’s death being my fault and the Killers Club coming after us?” He laughs drily. “I’m peachy.”

“We both know that’s not what’s really bothering you.”

He goes to grab another beer. It’s the cheap shit, so I know we’re in dire straits. He gulps it without stopping to take a breath. Anything to avoid answering my question.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he lies.

“We’ve always talked to each other, Seb.”

Freddie prefers to bottle up his feelings and let work consume him, while Callen channels what little feelings he has into destruction, but Seb has always communicated well… until now.

“We need to talk about Ivy.”

He flinches upon hearing her name.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says. His nose wrinkles, and he looks down at the empty can. “This tastes like cat piss.” He’s changing the subject, but I won’t drop it. “Don’t give me that look.” He points at my face in accusation. “There’s nothing to talk about. We’re working with Ivy, that’s all.”

“You still have feelings for her.” The phone speaks as I type. “You might hide it from Freddie, but you can’t hide it from me.”

He throws the can onto the floor to join a growing pile of rubbish. The place is a dump, so it doesn’t make a difference.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he replies, like a sulky teenager who has come home reeking of weed and denies smoking.

“She cares about you,” I respond.

“She doesn’t care about anyone,” he replies, then adds scathingly under his breath, “except you.”

That confirms it. He’s jealous.

I pause for a few minutes before typing again. “Have you told her how you feel?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he replies. “She stayed with us at the safehouse because it was a job. I… I finally thought I met someone who really liked me, and then it all went wrong. How did you…” His voice trails off. “How could you forgive her?”

I don’t answer.

“She tortured you,” he keeps talking. “She held you prisoner and lied to us about it, but now you’re acting like that never happened. You let her kiss you! You fucked her! How can you just forget about it?”

We sit in silence while I draft a message. I start with a lengthy explanation, then delete it all and start over. It all boils down to one thing.

“I forgave her,” I admit.

“But how?” he whispers. His eyes meet mine. “No matter how you feel, how could you forgive her after what she did?”

We’re not talking about me and her now. This is what Seb’s battling with.

“People make mistakes. I thought I was going to die in that dungeon. She gave me hope.” I sigh, hovering my fingers over the keypad before daring to go on. “We can’t help who we fall for.”

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