Satin Princess(72)

“So?”

“You realize what that means, right? You realize how she ceases to become a problem?” He leans in and whispers, “He kills her. That’s what it means.”

“She tried to kill me!” I point out.

“So go to the police! Put up wanted posters. Send the fucking law after her,” he argues. “You can’t take it into your own hands. You’re the daughter of a police officer, Jessa. You know this.”

I grit my teeth. “I also know that sometimes the law doesn’t always serve justice.”

“And Anton does?”

“He’s trying to protect me.”

“You wouldn’t need protecting if you’d never met him in the first place. Let’s face it, the only reason you’re even on Marina’s radar is because Anton expressed interest in you.”

His logic is ironclad, but I still find myself railing against it. “It’s not like he could see this coming. He thought she was dead.”

“I can’t believe you’re sitting here and defending him.”

“What do you expect me to do?” I demand. “I love him.”

I don’t mean to say the last part, but it slips out all the same. Chris stops short, his breathing growing more erratic.

“Chris…”

He shakes his head at me. “You’re doing it again. You’re making the same fucking mistake over again. Except this time, it’s going to be so much worse.”

“Dane cheated on me. He treated me like shit.”

“Dane was an asshole,” he agrees. “But Anton is dangerous. What if one day you decide you want a different kind of life? What if one day you want to leave? Do you really think a man like him is going to let you go?”

“I think he would. If it’s really what I wanted.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

“I know him, Chris.”

He scoffs. “You’re the one who said you’re a bad judge of character. Guess this proves it.”

That one hurts, but I decide I deserve it. I look down at my hands. They’re trembling.

“You know what I think?” Chris asks.

“I think you’ve made your thoughts pretty damn clear, actually.”

He ignores that. “I think you’re getting involved with this guy because you’re scared. You’re scared to be alone. You’re scared to raise this baby alone. So you’re tying yourself to him, even if that tie is a noose around your neck.”

“That’s not the reason, Chris,” I say in a quiet voice.

“You’ve known him a few months, Jessa. How can you possibly love him?”

“I don’t think love necessarily has a timeline. Or logic. It just happens.”

“That’s beautiful. Really fucking poetic,” he says bitterly.

“Chris—”

“You’re being an idiot,” he interrupts.

I feel the sting of tears in the back of my eyes. “Fine. Do you wanna know what I think?”

“Hit me,” Chris says with a defeated sigh.

“I think that Anton might be right about you.”

That gets his attention. “Right about what?”

I should stop, but I can’t. We’ve come too far, laid too much bare. It’s time to purge all the secrets between us.

“Anton thinks that you have feelings for me.”

I expect his refusal to come immediately. But as the seconds tick by and he makes no rebuttal, my heart sinks.

Even as I said it, I never actually considered it was true. I didn’t really believe Anton or Marina could be so right. I didn’t believe that I could be so wrong.

“Chris?” I ask finally when the silence has stretched on long past discomfort.

“It’s funny,” Chris says with a pained laugh. “Anton met me once and he was able to see it. You’ve known me for a decade and you never suspected the truth.”

My jaw drops and I search his face for the punchline. “Chris…”

“You didn’t think it was true, did you?” He looks up at me.

“Is it true?”

“Jesus, how can someone so smart be so blind?” Chris says with a tired sigh. “Of course I have feelings for you, Jessa. I’ve had feelings for you for years.”

“You never said anything…”

“Because by the time I worked up the courage to say something, you started dating Dane. And the moment you were free of that fucker, you went and found yourself another asshole to take his place.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No?” Chris asks, his expression hard. “Being a murderer isn’t enough to make someone an asshole now? You simply must give me your newly revised rulebook to being a good person.”

I don’t like this Chris. The hard-faced, steely-toned man whose mouth turns down at the ends. I barely recognize him like this.

“We’ve been best friends for forever, Chris,” I say softly. “I never suspected that you wanted more.”

“And now?”

“Now?” I ask, truly baffled by the question.

“You know how I feel now,” he says. “What do you have to say about it?”