“Stop,” I grit out.
“No, I shall not.” A pause, her soft brown eyes on me. “You brought it up. You wanted to know why I do not ask.”
“And now you’re askin’.”
“I think youwantme to ask. I think youwantto give it to me. But I think you are frightened.”
“Fuckin’ A, I’m scared.”
“Fucking A, what is this?”
I laugh. “Just a dumb phrase. For emphasis. Like abso-fuckin’-lutely.”
“Oh, I see.” She moves closer, her warm body soft against mine, fingers digging into my chest, breasts flattening between us. “Why do you not trust me?”
“Don’t trust anyone,” I growl, the words pulled from my gut.
“Why?”
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
I move away from her and punch a nearby tree, feeling it splinter and feeling my knuckles split. “BecauseIdon’t fuckingdeserveto be trusted!” I shout, then force my voice back down. “I’m not the man you think I am, Anj. I wish toChristI was, but I’m not.”
“Then tell me why you are not and let me decide what I want for myself.” She keeps her distance, staying where I left her; her voice is firm, and unafraid. “Is this about the story you told me?”
“Some of it.”
“And the rest you will not share.”
“No.”
She nods. “Then whether I wish to or not, I must return home. I will not stay there with them forever, not like it was, but I cannot start a new life with nothing at all.”
My gut twists, my heart cracks. “Anjalee. Come on.”
She moves to me, stops just out of arm’s reach. “This only works for me if we are connected, Kane. The adventure becomes sour if it does not mean to you as much as it means to me.”
“It does,” I whisper, as she walks past me.
“If it did, you would trust me.”
“It’s not abouttrust,” I snap.
She whirls. Her eyes blaze. “Oh no?”
“No! If I give it to you, I’ll lose you.” I swallow hard, glad for the darkness to hide the pain I know is on my face. “I don’t tell you, I lose you anyway. Better to lose you without…” I shake my head. “Without staining you with my filth any more than I already fuckin’ have.”
“Whatfilth, Kane?” She’s furious, now. Her hand slaps my chest. “Was it filth when you touched me? Or when I touched you? Was it filth when you put your mouth on me, or I put mine on you? Is the filth when we kiss? When I lay in your arms? Where is this filth?Ido not see it.Ido not feel it.” She slaps my chest in time with her emphasized words, not hard. “I feelbeauty, that is whatIfeel.”
A long pause, and then she looks up at me, dark eyes glittering wet.
“If you see what we have as filthy, then I have given myself to the wrong man.”
A hollow point bullet through the brain couldn’t destroy me any more than those words.
She turns and goes back to the fire, leaving me in the shadows—clouds cover the stars and moon, so it’s especially dark.
