Beneath This Ink (Beneath #2)(61)

The irritation was back. “Who the f*ck told you that?”

Her expression cleared, going from angry to unreadable in the space of a second. “No one you need to worry about.”

What the hell is she hiding?

I didn’t get a chance to push further because she held up two bags. “Brought you dinner. Or whatever a meal is after midnight. A midnight snack? We eating upstairs?”

I’m not sure what prodded me to answer, “How about the roof?”

Confusion creased her features. “The roof?”

“Yeah, got a table and chairs up there. It’s… another place I go to chill.”

Gesturing with the bags, she said, “Lead the way.”





I was glad I’d worn flat sandals, because climbing a rickety fire escape in heels would’ve been treacherous. I wasn’t sure what Con’s deal was with rooftops, but you’d better believe I was going to get an answer before I climbed back down this deathtrap.

Con helped me over the edge and onto the flat surface. The glow of the pale moon and the city lights revealed a patio set on green outdoor carpet. There were also a couple folding chairs that looked like they’d be fairly comfortable for lounging.

Con, who’d taken the bags from me the moment he’d gestured to the fire escape, set the food down on the table. Producing a lighter from somewhere, he lit a bucket candle on the table and then the tiki torches that edged the roof.

It was very much the rooftop version of a man cave.

“Come up here often?”

It was a stupid question, because he clearly did. But his answer surprised me.

“Yeah, for about twenty years now.”

Twenty years?

“That would’ve made you, what? Eleven?”

Con nodded and began pulling the containers out of bags. It seemed like it was easier for him to talk when he wasn’t looking at me.

“This was the place I came when I couldn’t handle whatever was going on in my latest foster home. Sometimes it was a longer hike than others, but for the most part, I was always able to get here.”

“Why this place?”

Con opened a container and the heavenly smell of lasagna wafted out. His head jerked up, and he stared at me.

“Really? Lasagna?”

I nodded, and looked away, feeling like my choice of food was baring my soul a little too much. It had sounded like a good idea when I’d stopped into a tiny Italian restaurant only a few blocks away just before they’d closed. It had seemed like a way to show him that I trusted him—that I was apologizing for the way things had started.

“I thought we’d give it another try.”

Con straightened and crossed the few feet between us. “I need you to make this real clear to me, Vanessa. I don’t want to misunderstand whatever it is you’re trying to say here. I don’t want to read into it and give it my own spin.”

I thought carefully for a minute before I spoke. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to figure out a way for this to work. The way you make me feel… I’m not ready to give that up. And the way I feel about you… well, let’s just say I’ve never felt that way about anyone. And I’m afraid if I don’t tell you now, somehow it’s all going to slip away.”

I knew I needed to come clean with him about Titan. It was a huge risk, but I was done hiding it. “There’s something I haven’t told you.” I looked up and met his eyes. “And you have to promise not to overreact.”

Con’s expression hardened. “What?”

I bit my lip as I worked on finding the right words. “You know that I used to go to functions with Simon, mostly because it was easier to go with a date and my dad laid off the ‘let’s get Vanessa married’ shtick when I was with him.”

“Yeah. I’m well aware.”

“Well, someone else thought having me on his arm was a good way to get into certain circles he otherwise wouldn’t have been given easy access to.”

Con’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. “Don’t stop now, princess. You’re just getting to the good part.”

“It’s not what you think. I didn’t want to do it, but he saw us together… and decided that since he knew I wouldn’t agree to date him, he’d use what he knew about us to get me to do it anyway.”

“Who?” The word came out low and threatening.

“You can’t do anything, Con. He’ll tell Archer about us and portray it in the worst possible light. I need a chance to tell him first. You have to promise you’ll let me handle it. I’m already blowing the terms of the deal by telling you. I just don’t want to keep any more secrets—”

Con interrupted what was becoming a full-on babble. “Just f*cking tell me who, Vanessa.”

“Lucas Titan.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Con bit out.

And that was exactly what I didn’t want to hear.

I laid a hand on his arm. “You aren’t going to do anything. I’m going to fix this. I just have to go to one more event with him, and it’s done.”

“You aren’t going anywhere with Titan. He can go f*ck himself.”

My emotions were split evenly between frustration and something that felt a lot like gratitude for Con’s behavior. I squelched that second emotion.