Forsaken (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #3)(75)

“Yes,” Gia replies, her tone raspy, affected. “And alone, but you aren’t. Not anymore. You have Liam.”

“Gia,” Amy says. “You aren’t alone. You have me and Liam and Tellar. We’re family now. And most of all, you have Chad.”

“Do I?”

“How can you question that?”

“It’s . . . complicated.”

Complicated? What the f*ck does she mean by that? I run a hand through my hair, trying to understand what I’ve done wrong in the past few days to make her feel like I’m not here for her. That I don’t want to be with her.

Liam’s voice comes from the kitchen doorway, and Amy and Gia lower their voices, having an exchange I can’t make out, before Amy’s footsteps sound, fading into the closing of the door. It’s then that it hits me that I’ve eavesdropped, like a total dickhead. But I’m here, and she’s spoken that damn word complicated and I intend to know why.

Stepping forward into the line of the curtain, I find her at the railing, under a heater, her dark hair fluttering with the wind off the nearby ocean. “How much did you hear?” she asks without turning.

I step onto the porch and cross the wooden floor to stand next to her, resting my hands on the railing, looking out at the waves crashing on the sand. “All of it.”

“What do you want to know?” she asks, tilting her head to look at me.

“Everything now, but pretend I just said only when you’re ready.”

She doesn’t laugh, inhaling instead, still not looking at me, seeming to stare at the skyline that is nothing but black speckled with dots of light. “When my father died, I was lost. Jason was my college professor. I guess I needed a father figure, because I thought I loved him.” She laughs without humor. “God. I was so adolescent, giddy in every way. I don’t know how I got pregnant. We used protection, but when it happened it seemed like a gift. I wanted that child. Oh, how I wanted that child.” Her wishful, sad tone turns hard as she adds, “But he didn’t. He told me to get an abortion. I was devastated. I refused.”

I wait, expecting her to go on, finally pressing with a gentle “Gia?”

She lifts her hands and rambles almost matter-of-factly. “My appendix ruptured and I miscarried. A freak thing. I almost died and then they told me that there was damage. You know the rest. I . . . choose the wrong men.”

I grab her, wrapping her in my arms, brushing hair from her face to find pure anguish in her eyes, but I am hurt by her implication that I too am the wrong man. “What did that mean?”

“It means we’re complicated, just like I said to Amy.”

“You think I’ll leave.”

“Of course you’ll leave.”

“I know what I said—”

“Over and over, you said it. I told you alone wasn’t better. I did. I meant it, but we don’t know each other.”

“What? We do. I want to know more.”

“No. No, I don’t. I don’t want to feel what you make me feel.”

“What am I making you feel?”

“Confused.”

I back her against the railing, my legs framing hers, hands cupping her face. “You aren’t pushing me away. I don’t know why you’re trying.”

“Amy needed you and you stayed away from her.”

“To protect her, Gia,” I argue, hearing the accusation in her voice. “Is that what this is about? You think I’ll leave. I’m not leaving you.”

“Chad.”

I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of Tellar’s voice. “Now isn’t a good time.”

“Make it a good time.” The hardness in his voice has me releasing Gia, who immediately retreats, hugging herself.

Frustrated, I turn to face Tellar, finding his spine erect, his expression pure stone. My brow furrows, and I don’t have to ask if there’s a problem to know that there is, nor do I miss the irony of having sworn I would end this, sparing Gia and me nothing in the worst of moments.

I look at her, willing her to look at me, but she doesn’t. Amy exits the side door again, a well-timed companion to Gia, and for reasons I can’t explain, it feels almost too well-timed. But as I step toward the living area with Tellar, and Amy moves toward Gia, I frown when she doesn’t look at me. What the hell is going on?

Following Teller to the kitchen, I find Liam sitting at the same spot that he’s occupied for days, but his eyes are not on his computer screen. They’re on me. Silently, he motions to the seat beside him, giving me the impression he wants me closer than in the past, the conversation tighter. I join him, and Tellar claims the seat across from us. They share a look, and unease has me snapping, “What the hell is going on?”

Liam’s lips press together a moment before he asks, “How much do you know about Gia?”

Just the question punches me in the chest with dread. “Why?”

Tellar answers: “Because looking at the files again made me realize we didn’t have one on Gia.”

“I had it on my computer that disappeared from the SUV,” I reply. “Jared pulled it for me when we were in the city.”

“So you reviewed Jared’s file?” Liam asks.

“Yes. Completely.” I narrow my gaze on him. “Whatever you aren’t saying, just get to it.”