Page 91 of Brutal
He doesn’t have to say more. “She’s contained.”
“Is she?”
I don’t answer. He watches me. That’s the problem with Nate. He doesn’t push harder. That’s my job.
His job is to wait. To negotiate. To turn black into white with mere words.
And he’s damned good at it.
“Did she demand any answers?” he finally asks.
“Yes.”
“And?”
I meet his gaze. “She didn’t get any.”
“She won’t stop,” he says. “Not unless we stop her.”
I don’t respond.
He steps closer now, closing the space between us. “She’s not supposed to matter to you.”
“She doesn’t,” I say.
But the words, though I want them to be true, sit like acid on my tongue.
Nate stares at me for a good minute before he speaks again. Then, “You keep telling yourself that.”
My muscles tense but I don’t move. Don’t react. I step past him. It’s time to end this conversation before it becomes something else.
Before he pushes further.
Before I give him more than I already have.
“It’s handled,” I say.
“For now.”
I pause at the door but don’t turn back toward him. If I do, he’ll see it.
Whatever this is between Delaney and me, Nate will see it. He can read people better than anyone I know, and though I’ve learned over the years to hide everything from him, this—this thing that I don’t quite understand—is stronger than I ever imagined it could be.
I leave the office and walk into the hall.
And for the first time since I stepped into Delaney’s apartment…
Since I put my hands on her…
Since I let this go further than it should have…
I allow the thought to land fully.
I didn’t handle it.
I lost control with her.
And that is exactly how all of this starts to go wrong.
