A Darkness Absolute (Casey Duncan #2)(80)
“No, I did. I started thinking perhaps, if they were right about the sheriff using the hostiles, then he decided to teach me a lesson. When I mentioned it to Phil, he said no, very strongly no, that whatever else they thought Sheriff Dalton was capable of, they couldn’t imagine he’d ever do anything like that. But…”
“The idea had already been planted, and the more strenuously Phil insisted Eric couldn’t be responsible, the more it seemed as if he was in denial. Phil and the council.”
“Yes,” she says, and her voice is low.
“So you thought Eric was responsible for your attack. At best, he cultivated an environment that allowed it to happen. At worst, he actually set it up.”
She nods.
“And the council set that up. Led you to believe Eric cultivated that environment. Led you to believe he denied your attack. Even, in a roundabout way, led you to think he may have orchestrated it.”
Val shakes her head. “What possible motivation would they have?”
“What was the end result? When you first arrived, you thought Eric was too young and uneducated for his position. Right?”
She nods.
“Eventually, you’d have realized you were wrong. That Eric does his job very well. That he’s just more volatile—more difficult to control—than the council would like. The best way to manage him? Have a rep who thinks he’s dangerous. Who will report his every misdeed. The council made you their dedicated anti-Eric spy. And your reward? The result of what they told you, and the fear and distrust they instilled in you?” I wave around the chalet. “A prison cell.”
FORTY-SIX
We don’t talk after that. Val needs time to digest it. Dalton does, too, and he’s so quiet on the walk back that I turn to him a couple of times and say, “You do understand that no one thinks you actually did any of that, right?” He nods but says nothing, just walks, until we’re at his place. We take Storm out to do her business, and he remains quiet. Back inside, I put her to bed and find him sitting in front of the fireplace, staring into the glowing embers.
“Mind if I light that?” I ask softly.
He gives a start and then rises, reaching for the timber pile. I lay my hand on his and say, “I’ve got it,” but he hovers there, as if thrown by the sudden loss of purpose. When I say, “Unless you’d rather,” he nods and starts rebuilding the fire.
“I could be wrong about the council,” I say as he arranges logs.
He lets out a half-stifled laugh and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just an idiot for not seeing it.”
“It was a very carefully constructed misunderstanding between you and Val, the result of that misunderstanding being a level of animosity that ensures you’d never actually talk and resolve it.” I move to sit on the sofa. “I know this hurts, Eric. You think you’re immune—that you understand what you’re up against with them—and then it gets worse. That hurts.”
“Yeah, but…” He pauses, crouched on his haunches, and rubs his mouth. “Before all this tonight, you wanted to talk about moving in.”
The change of subject throws me, and I go silent, as I process. He turns away and lights a match.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” he says.
“What you—?”
“It was too fast.” He retreats to the other end of the couch. “When I got Storm, I wasn’t thinking it’d mean we had to move in together, but I sure as hell jumped at the excuse. Here’s a puppy. Now, if you want it, you’ll have to move in with me.”
“It wasn’t like—”
“Yeah, it was. I didn’t just jump. I pounced. One more way to tie you down. Tie you to me. Make sure you won’t leave.”
“I’m not—”
“I think about what happened to Nicole, and I feel like that’s what I’m doing, in a way. Putting you in a place. Confining you. Locking you up.”
“Eric, you’re not—”
“But I want to,” he blurts. “Figuratively. Lock you in. Keep you safe. Keep you here. Fuck, yeah. First a dog. Then moving in together. Tying you to me, to Rockton, because I’m afraid you’re going to leave.”
Before I can speak, he says, “I’m afraid, Casey, and I hate that. I hate how it makes me feel. This is Rockton. People come; people go. If I knew them and liked them, then sure, I miss them. But that’s life here, right? Everyone is temporary. Even when my parents moved down south, it was just something I had to adjust to, and fuck, it’s not like they were even my real parents.”
He rubs his face, as if he can scrub those thoughts away.
I think of Nicole, and the way life on the run affected her. For Dalton, it’s not even that. Every relationship—right back to his birth family—has been temporary. It is a life of abandonment, and yet it’s such an intrinsic part of his world that he doesn’t feel abandoned. That’s just what they do. What they must do in Rockton. People must leave. He stays.
I crawl into his lap. His arms tighten around me, and he buries his chin in the curve of my shoulder.
“That’s why I freaked out over Val saying I broke into her bedroom,” he says. “Even if I had a perfect alibi, I just … panicked. When we found out Nicole’s captor had visited her while I was in Dawson City, all I felt was relief. You wouldn’t have to consider me as a suspect.”