Page 89 of Haunted

Van Hoek sizes me up without even the flicker of emotion. “By dealt with it, you mean use the legal means available, is that correct, Marine?”

I grind my jaw once. “I am a law-abiding citizen, ma’am.”

She doesn’t break eye contact. “Make sure it stays that way. Well.” She closes the notebook and stands. “I’ve got a room full of witnesses to get through. If either of you thinks of anything, I’ll be right outside.”

The door clicks shut behind her.

Jonny doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he gets off the desk and crosses to the window, and instead of looking out he puts his back to the wall and slides down it onto the industrial carpet, legs out in front of him. He shrugs out of the borrowed jacket I forced on him and lays it over his knees. He pats the floor beside him.

“Sit with me.”

I lower myself down next to him and it takes longer than I want it to. I take the side nearer the door, so I’m between him and it. He reaches over and takes my hand.

For about a minute neither of us says anything, and it’s the first minute in two hours that hasn’t had anything in it.

“If you need to cry, or whatever,” I say. “You weren’t ready for this. I was.”

He huffs. “Were you? Is your past that littered with psychotic exes?”

“No. But other things. People coming at you meaning it.” I look at his hand in mine. “If we were together together, I’d take care of you. That’s all I want. Keeping you safe is the only thing I have ever been any good at.”

He turns to me. “I thought we were together together.”

“If you were my—if we were, you know…” I trail off.

“Go on.”

But I can’t. “It’s not the time,” I growl. “You’re in shock. Let’s get you home, get you in the shower, and we’ll talk later.” I gather my legs to stand. He doesn’t move, and I let them slide back down.

“I think it is the time,” he says.

I wait a beat. Then I shift around until I’m facing him properly. My ribs protest.

“I didn’t want to do it like this. But I love you. I’ve always loved you. If you and I—if we—” This means too much and my nerve goes.

He stares at me incredulously. “Are you proposing to me?”

“It doesn’t have to be that. Not if you didn’t want it. But—yeah. I think I am. I need to know if it’s at least on the table.”

He doesn’t answer.

It goes on long enough that I hear the clock over the whiteboard, and a few syllables from the conference. Somewhere outside, a girl is laughing. In here, it’s quiet.

“You dislocated a man’s shoulder twenty minutes ago,” he says at last. “And now, you’re asking me to marry you.”

“That’s not—that’s a different thing.”

“Lance.” He pulls his hand away and lays it flat on the carpet between us. “I don’t think they are. You could have killed him.” His voice is soft and somehow fills the whole room. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“That piece of shit put his hands on you,” I say. I don’t know why he hasn’t clocked how close he’s come. “He’s lucky he isn’t eating through a straw for the rest of his life.”

“You almost killed a man in cold blood.”

“I neutralized a threat.”

“You dislocated his shoulder.” He stops, and his voice comes back smaller. “You did it slowly. I watched you find the angle and adjust your grip like—like you had all the time in the world. And then you put your bare hands around his throat and you kept going, and the only reason he’s breathing right now is that I said your name.” He makes himself look at me. “You could do that again. To anyone.” He doesn’t have to say the next part, because it rings unsaid between us: you could do that to me.

“I will do whatever is necessary to secure your safety. That is not a thing I’m ashamed of.”