I learned of Gregory Guidry’s murder. You were running down the street. I was at the crime scene, and you just—you ran right past me.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You run a lot, Joel. You never remember where you go. You’re too busy trying to escape. But I saw you and—”
“And you notice everything, don’t you? Every fucking thing. You saw me, probably recognized my face, and you decided to rip my life apart.”
She couldn’t let him see how much his words hurt her. She’d learned to never let anyone see when she hurt. Some people liked pain far too much. “You were at the crime scene. When I saw you, I remembered what had happened to you.”
“Sure, you did. What with that great eidetic memory and all.”
She would not flinch. “I use the victims to help me find the killers. I work backwards. I was building an idea in my head based on Gregory of what the perp might be like. And all of a sudden, you were there, running right past me, and after what you’d done to the man who you believed hurt you—”
“Believed? I damn well know what that bastard did to me! You weren’t there! You don’t know! You don’t know how he laughed when I bled. How he smiled when he cut deeper and deeper. How he told me no one would ever come. No one would find me, no one would—” Joel stopped. Exhaled.
She reached up to touch him because she hated his pain. She wanted to take it away and make it better for him—
“Don’t.” He jerked away.
She was the one to suck in a deep breath. Pain knifed through her and Chloe had to hurriedly lower her lashes so that he wouldn’t notice the tears that filled her eyes.
“You set me up from the beginning, didn’t you?” His voice was angry, but cold. Very cold. “All some giant test. A game you were playing.”
“I don’t play games.” Her voice was rough. Too ragged. “People always say that, but I don’t.”
“Look at me.”
Her head snapped up. A tear slid down her cheek.
He swallowed. His hand lifted toward her, but it stopped. Fisted. Fell back to his side. “It wasn’t coincidence that we met in that bank, was it?”
Slowly, she shook her head.
“How the fuck did you arrange that?”
“I…I knew Harry’s pattern. The trick was getting you in the bank on the right day. I made sure a check was sent to you from your lawyer’s Dallas office and I—”
“God, you are a piece of work.”
Chloe pressed her lips together.
“You manipulated me from day one. Nothing was real, was it?” Both of his hands locked around the handlebars. Tightened fiercely. “I’m just someone else for you to mind fuck—”
“No!” The snarl tore from her and everything—
The walls came crashing down.
Her heartbeat seemed too fast. Her breathing too fast. Her body too hot. Everything was too much. “I’m not mind fucking you. I’ve been trying to help you! Yes, I set up the meeting in the bank. All I had to go by on you were Gordon’s notes. I don’t trust the assessment of other people. I needed to interact with you myself! And within five minutes of meeting you, I knew how wrong he was. But you didn’t. You were living in a grave that he’d created for you. Believing the lies he’d told you, and I had to help you to break free. So I gave you opportunities. Choices. You made those decisions. You chose to move here. You chose to be my partner. You chose to be my lover.” She didn’t swipe away the tears on her cheeks. She didn’t care about them.
I care about him. Why couldn’t he see that?
“I knew you weren’t the killer, Joel. You weren’t the man I was after. But you were the man I needed. I wanted you to stay with me. I still want you to stay with me.” She’d never been this open with anyone in her life.
Maybe because no one had ever mattered this much?
“You don’t let me in, Chloe.” His voice seemed as ragged as her own. Not as cold any longer. Rough and gruff. “I don’t know any of your secrets, yet you know everything that makes me bleed. How the hell is that fair?”
It wasn’t. “Joel…” She almost reached for him again.
But he had the motorcycle roaring to life. “I can’t watch you cry,” he rasped. “I can’t fucking do it.”
She couldn’t stop crying. She hadn’t cried in so long, but