After We Fall (Take the Fall, #3)(31)

“I am? From what?” I ask, and then it hits me. Yesterday I cried more in twenty minutes than I had in the past five years. Crying had never done me any good with Penn. He would only hit me harder, accuse me of trying to manipulate him when he had no control over his mental illness.

Hunter smiles. It’s a big smile, full of male satisfaction. “You know what.”

My heart flips in my chest. He’s being considerate of me. He’s also letting me know that he’s thoroughly pleased with what he did to me last night.

I lower my voice and lean over the table a little. “We didn’t have sex. It was only…well, you know what happened.”

His dark brows rise. “Indeed.”

The waitress arrives at our table, her tray laden with plates of food. Once we have our orders, I pause and give Hunter a shy look.

“Do you mind if I say grace?”

“No.” He crosses himself and bows his head, as if waiting for me.

“Um…I wasn’t going to say it out loud.” I giggle nervously.

He glances up at me through his dark lashes. “I can. My mother taught me tons of prayers. Mostly because I didn’t understand Latin Mass, even when it was spoken in Spanish.”

“Okay.” Closing my eyes, I automatically reach for his hand and end up grabbing his wrist. My eyes fly open. “Sorry. Habit. We always held hands.”

“You and Penn?”

“Yeah, right.” My mouth twists. “Penn forbade me from going to church.”

“I go to Mass every Saturday night I’m off work.”

I stare at him. “I’m not Catholic,” I blurt.

“Damn. There goes my theory of you being perfect.” He winks at me and twines his fingers with mine.

I barely listen as he prays, too caught up in his touch and words. My heart races. My stomach drops.

He’s too good to be true. Too much like Penn when we first started dating.

I snatch my hand away as soon as he stops, then dig into the eggs Benedict.

“Jake really enjoyed his forbidden spot with you last night.”

My forkful of eggs, Canadian bacon, and English muffin stop halfway to my mouth. “He doesn’t sleep with you?”

“Hell, no. I love Jake, but my bed is off-limits.” He takes a bite of his western omelet. “Pretty sure I confused him last night, but you’re worth it.”

“I am?” I’m worth it. I’m worthy.

“To be completely honest, if I thought animals were the way to your heart, I’d send him to your place for sleepovers.” His grin is playful, boyish. It’s not one I’ve seen on him before.

Something warm passes through me, followed by the insidious whisper that Hunter merely knows how to deal with abused women due to his training. His background. “How did you get past being abused?” Hunter and his mom endured over a decade of abuse—that surely had to leave a mark on him. Surely, he’d figured out how to erase it, and I want that knowledge.

His playful grin dissolves. “I didn’t.”

Disappointment collides with hope and attempts to strangle every bit of it. Yet, I still press on. “Do you still talk to your dad? Did he ever change his ways and apologize?” I shouldn’t ask this. None of it’s my business. And it’s not like I want Penn back. It’s not even a possibility he’s changed.

“No.” His eyes grow sharp. His voice tight. “He’s dead.”

“I’m…I’m not sure what to say.” Is the only way a victim can ever get justice, ever get peace, in death? While Penn suffers from PTSD, he’s an otherwise healthy guy in his early thirties. Barring accidental death, he should live for a long time.

Hunter leans back in the booth. “There’s nothing to say. He finally got what he deserved.”

“Were you happy?”

“Evangeline,” he begins.

“Look, you know every sordid detail about me, about my marriage. I know you read my case file. I know you took a special interest in me because Piper told me before I moved into my apartment. I thought I could handle living in the same place as you. That maybe, just maybe, I could play dumb and you wouldn’t bring up my past. But you did. The very least you owe me is honesty.”

He wipes his face with his napkin, grabs his wallet, and leaves enough money to cover the bill and give our waitress a tip before pinning me with a look of hot fury. “I was f*cking thrilled. I danced on his grave and hoped like hell he suffered.” He scoots out of the booth, tossing his keys on the table. “I’ll find my own way home.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep back the tears so I don’t make a mess of things even more by crying. “Okay.” Fingers trembling, I grab his keys and shove them into my pocket while he marches outside.

I slump down in the booth, mentally fussing at myself for pushing him. For expecting more of him than I would of myself.

How could I be so insensitive? It was obvious from the get-go that he didn’t want to talk about it.

Misery coats my insides.

“Stupid girl, you ran him off,” I mutter. For once, the phrase has a whole new meaning for me.





Chapter 11


Hunter


“This is a surprise,” Hayden says as he steps down from one of the large fire engines. The pavement is wet, there’s soap everywhere, and a bunch of kids are running around with sponges. Laughter fills the air.