at me before rubbing a hand over his face in a habit he’d had for as long as I could remember. Whenever he was tired or stressed or unsure, he would slide his hand from the top of his head all the way down to his chin. I watched it carefully, hating that he was feeling that way. Hating that the small motion lit up my body, imagining that hand gliding over me.
“It’s better for you not to know,” he said quietly.
The stab to my heart drove deep. So much lack of trust built into those words.
“Since I’ve kept the secret we shared for five years―even when I hated every second of keeping it―I think you can count on me to keep whatever you tell me now to myself.”
“That was a necessary lie,” he said.
“Taking the fall for the accident was never a necessary lie,” I said, the age-old argument between us not going anywhere. “And you know it only made things worse with Jersey and Truck. She almost didn’t take him back because she was so mad at you both. It would have been better for her to be mad at me instead of you. It would have been better to be honest.”
“It was my fault, Vi. Whether I was physically behind the wheel or not.”
I felt irritation well in me. We rarely talked of the accident and the fact that he’d told everyone he’d been driving when we’d crashed over the cliff and into the sea. I’d let him take the fall because he’d taken me by surprise, and by the time I’d come to my senses, it would have looked even worse to change our story. I’d let him do it because somewhere in my teenage, hormone-rattled brain, I’d loved that he wanted to protect me. But I hadn’t needed him to protect me then, just like I didn’t need it now.
The elevator opened, and he stepped out, putting his hand on the door to stop it from closing and waiting for me to exit. But I didn’t.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
He met my gaze with eyes full of regret. “No.”
“Then, I think I’ll just head to bed myself.” I tossed my braid, crossed my shaking hands over my chest, and leaned against the back wall.
He stared at me, a war going on inside his brain. I wanted him to trust me as much as I wanted him to kiss me. With every fiber of my being, I wanted Dawson to let go of all the walls he held up between us and just give in to what we both wanted. To be together. To be more than friends passing in the night. But I wouldn’t beg, and I wouldn’t spend more years of my life waiting for it to happen.
When I didn’t budge, he looked down and removed his hand from the elevator door.
“Goodnight, Vi.”
The doors shut, and I barely held back the tears that collected in my eyes.
I hadn’t cried any tears over Silas. With one conversation, Dawson could shred every ounce of my composure. I wanted to hate him for it, but I knew I never would.
Dawson
KISS ME
“Settle down with me,
And I'll be your safety.
You'll be my lady.”
Performed by Ed Sheeran
Written by Sheeran / Frost / Franks / Wilson
My conversation with Violet in the elevator cracked open my veins, pouring blood out of them that couldn’t be seen. I hated lying to her. I hated not being honest. But there was no fucking way I could drag her into this mess more than she was.
I paid a CarShare driver more than he would have made all night to be my wheels while I waited in the dark on the opposite side of the street for Ken’Ichi to emerge from the building. It would have been impossible to tail him in the Aston Martin without notice.
Even though she was normally Jada’s driver, it was Ito-san who pulled up in a dark SUV when Ken’Ichi appeared. He slid into the back seat, and they headed toward the financial district. They stopped in front of the Mori Enterprises building near the 9/11 Memorial, and Ito-san opened the back door for him. He said something to her, she nodded, and then drove off while he mounted the steps. We didn’t have eyes or ears inside. While we’d gotten the wiretap approval, every time we tapped the place, it was less than a day before it was discovered and removed just like at