“I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you,” she replies. “I hope you won’t be mad at Blake. Shame makes us do stupid things sometimes.”

I nod once. I’m not sure how to feel about Blake’s secret. Maybe I’m feeling too many other things to focus on it right now. All I know is, Connor needs my help, and he’s getting it whether he wants it or not.

It’s five in the evening before I’m allowed to sign Connor out. When he sees me waiting for him, his mouth flattens, and he shakes his head. Not exactly the greeting I was hoping for. The day matches our mood; dreary. I feel like I haven’t seen the sun in years.

Connor stares out the window as the rain pelts against my car, the wipers swishing on high speed. The windows are beginning to fog, but I’m still able to see after wiping the glass with my hand. The ride home is silent. He hasn’t spoken a word to me—not one word.

Finally, we make it home, and as I park the car and switch off the ignition, he turns his head and stares straight ahead at the garage.

“How’s your head?” he asks, gruffly.

I try to tame my sigh of relief. He’s talking to me. That’s something at least. “A little tender, but better,” I answer him.

“Where’d you get the money?” His words are tight, his voice deep. Clearly he’s unhappy that I’ve bailed him out—as I knew he would be. But I don’t care.

“I took it out of my savings.” I only had to put down 25,000 to bail Connor out, but if he were to run, I’d be stuck with paying the total 250,000.

“And what if I take off? Disappear?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” I affirm.

“But what if I did?” he persists. “You’d be stuck paying 250,000 dollars.”

“Then I’d put the house up to cover it,” I answer simply and unapologetically as I begin digging through my purse. I don’t need a thing out of it, but it’s a distraction—I can’t look at him. But Connor isn’t having any of that. When he grabs my arm, stopping me, I look up and meet his hard gaze.

“You shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t ask you to do that.”

Hurt and anger surge through me. “I didn’t need your permission,” I snap. “I know you’re innocent, and I’d spend every last dime I have to help you.” The admission came easily. I don’t think until I said it that even I realized the lengths to which I’d go to protect Connor.

His chest rises and falls once with a deep inhale. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“I don’t understand why. It’s just a big blank spot in my memory. One minute I was walking across the street and the next I was sitting in the ambulance.” I look at him, my eyes pleading. “What happened Connor?”

“You really don’t remember?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I swear, I don’t. You don’t believe me?”

His gaze softens. “It’s better you don’t remember.”

“Please tell me,” I beg.

He doesn’t answer my request. Instead, he pivots. “You shouldn’t have wasted your money.”

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “I’d gladly spend my money on a man that spent eight years in prison hiding a truth that should have been revealed a long time ago.”

His jaw tics and his eyes dart away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Suddenly, I’m livid. He knows exactly what I mean. “Right,” I laugh with disdain. “You’re going to lie to me too?”

Connor says nothing but stuns me when he gently pulls my arm causing me to lean toward him. “I don’t want to.” He’s so close I can feel his breath on my face and my heart flutters when his gaze moves down to my mouth.

“Then don’t,” I plea in a soft whisper. “Let me help you.”

“You can’t,” he murmurs, his hooded eyes still trained on my mouth. “I’m trying to protect you.”

I can’t help darting my tongue out to lick my lips, not realizing how inviting that might look to him. Or maybe, subconsciously, I do know. Maybe I want him to see how badly I want him to kiss me. “I know you didn’t kill him, Connor.”

“You can’t remember anything. So you don’t know that,” he argues as his thumb moves back and forth, gently brushing against my arm. In a different setting, another moment, I’d be too lost in his touch to respond with an appropriate answer, but not today.

“Yes, I do!” I state loudly.

“You just don’t want to believe I’m capable of doing it, but I am. I’ve done it before Demi, and I don’t regret it.”

My heart is hammering in my chest. He just admitted to killing someone with no regrets. His words should terrify me, send me fleeing from my car, but I stay planted. And I plan to continue to do just that, until he says, “Blake wouldn’t have wanted . . . this.”

Narrowing my eyes, I tilt my head and ask, “This?” I know what he’s saying. He’s finally admitting there is something between us; acknowledging the elephant in the room. But even so, I’m going to force him to say it.

Connor finally meets my gaze, his dark eyes seeming pained. “This,” he says, quietly as he squeezes my arm gently.

I can’t help lashing out at him. “That didn’t stop you last time,” I argue. “If Dusty hadn’t pulled up that night . . . we . . . would’ve . . .”

“Would’ve what?” he challenges.

I glare at him. He thinks I won’t say it. But he’s wrong. “You would have taken me right there on that counter. You wanted me every bit as badly as I wanted you.”

He smirks a little. “You mean on the night you pretended not to remember?” His eyes feel like they’re burning mine he’s staring at me so intensely.

Okay. I lied about being blacked out, and he’s calling me out on it, again. He never believed me anyway, and I already owned my mistake so why are we rehashing this? So I don’t bother trying to explain why I lied. I just own it. “Yes, that night,” I answer.

Dragging his gaze from mine he lets out a long breath as if he’s amping himself up for whatever he’s about to say. “It was better that it didn’t go that far.”

I’m wild with anger as I rip my arm from his grip and whip the driver’s side door open. I crawl out, stumbling as I do and slam the door. Humiliation blankets me. I’ve been such a fool. Connor doesn’t want me and he just used Blake as his copout. I make a beeline for the house, tears burning my eyes when I’m jerked back.

I’m wild with anger as I rip my arm from his grip and whip the driver’s side door open. I crawl out, stumbling as I do and slam the door. Humiliation blankets me. I’ve been such a fool. Connor doesn’t want me, and he just used Blake as his cop out. I beeline for the house, tears burning my eyes when I’m jerked back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t give him the chance. “Fuck you, Connor,” I hurl the words as venomous as possible at him. He flinches but doesn’t let me go. I may be humiliated, but I know deep down I’m not stupid. There is something there . . . something we’ve both been fighting, but Connor isn’t brave enough to seize it. “You spent eight years in prison for a secret that could have possibly freed you. That man you killed deserved what happened to him. Hell, he deserves worse. And Blake,” I’ve never been so angry with Blake. How could he? “Blake was wrong. He was so fucking wrong to let you rot in that prison. I’ll never forgive him for it.”

“Don’t say that,” Connor shouts at me. “You don’t mean it. You have no idea what happened.”

“And you,” I continue, ignoring him. “Don’t use Blake as an excuse to turn down what I’d give you happily. You rejecting me is on you, not him.”

I move to run, but Connor pulls me back and holds me by the arms. The rain is relentless, pelting against us, dripping from our noses when he bends down to meet my line of sight. His voice is calmer, huskier when he asks, “What are you willing to give me?”

I swallow hard, the intensity of his dark stare bearing down on me, sucking the breath from my lungs. “I’d give you every piece of me,” I admit quietly, letting all the fight drain from me as he holds me steady. “My heart, my body, it’s yours Connor . . . if you want it. If you’d just take it.” My voice cracks with emotion on the edge of a sob. “I’d give you my all.” He leans toward me slightly and my belly clenches as I prepare for his lips to meet mine, but then he pushes away from me and rubs his head with both hands, letting out a loud groan as he turns his back to me.