Page 30 of Shadow Secrets
“My guess, too.”
Sutton squatted in front of him, eyes wide with panic. He ended the call.
She grabbed the phone out of his hand, as if daring him to ignore her any further. “What. Happened.”
He told her, straight up. No padding it. He’d never been good with skirting the truth.
Her hand went to her mouth. The phone hit the floor. Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked hard, trying to keep them from falling. They spilled anyway.
She sat back. Just collapsed onto the floor, her legs splaying out. One of them bumped his. “This is because of me.” Her voice cracked. “They came looking for me, didn’t they? Dom is nearly dead because of me.”
“Blaming yourself won’t do any good. The way the place was ransacked, it looks like they were after Penn’s sketchbooks or anything of his that might be tied to them. They weren’t after you or Dom. Dom surprised them. Looks like he pulled a weapon, forcing them to retaliate.”
“Don’t tell me this isn’t my fault. I should have warned him. He wouldn’t be clinging to life if?—”
“This isn’t your fault.” Sebastian cut in. He knew the blame game all too well, but his sharpness wasn’t aimed at her. It was aimed at himself. “It’s mine. I should have put security on the parlor. I should have had someone watching it from the moment we brought you to the compound. I identified the threat, and I didn’t cover it. That’s on me.”
Her forehead creased. “You didn’t do this?—”
“Neither did you.” He sat forward, elbows on his knees, hands locked together. The anger pulsed in his chest, hot and directionless. She was only inches from him, and he wanted to take her hands to reassure her. He didn’t. “The person who broke into that parlor did it. The organization that sent them is behind it. Not you. Not me. Them. But I should have predicted it. I should have?—”
“Because it’s your job.”
He nodded.
The tears were still on her face, and he desperately wanted to wipe them away. “Do you have some kind of crystal ball?”
He clenched his jaw. “No, but I’ve had training and experience.”
“You can read minds, then.”
He gave her a look.
She brushed at her damp cheeks. “I’m just saying—neither of us is psychic, right?”
“Once I knew they’d been in your apartment, I should have suspected they might go to the parlor.”
She fell silent. In agreement? In frustration? He couldn’t tell. She shook her head and stared at nothing. “Poor Dom.”
He couldn’t give himself the full thirty seconds to get his emotions under control, but he did take two deep breaths. “I’m sorry.”
She reached out, took one of his hands. “Me, too.”
Her fingers were strong, steady. He let her thread them through his, reveling in her touch in a way that shocked him. “It’s not your?—”
She squeezed his fingers hard. “If you get to blame yourself, I get to blame myself. It’s only fair that we both carry this burden.”
A burden layered on the one they already shared.
Sebastian squeezed her hand. “All right. We’ll share the blame.”
She scooted around so her back was to the wall without letting go of his hand. He held his breath, wondering when she would. No matter when, it would come too soon.
And didn’t that scare the hell out of him.
“Dom’s strong,” she said, like she was trying to reassure herself. “He survived the Navy. He survived a divorce and a bad decade after opening the tattoo parlor on the worst block in Blackridge. He’s strong.”
Sebastian didn’t know him except in passing, but he suspected she was right. “He is.”
