He rose to his full height, his posture going stiff and formal. “It’s fine, Cora. It’s not hard information to come by, and it’s not a secret. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You . . .” His gaze flicked away. “You made me forget for a second how women must feel around me these days. I’m sorry. I should’ve never crowded you.”
“You didn’t. I mean—” She let out a frustrated breath. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. It’s just . . .”
I don’t know what to think. This man scrambled all of her signals. She got a flavor of danger from him, but it felt . . . sexual. Not violent. She’d been around enough criminals at the police station to recognize that niggling feeling that something wasn’t right with someone, that intent to harm in their eyes. That’s not what this felt like. But he’d gone to jail for rape. And was a dominant. The violence and sex intertwined there. And she didn’t know how to pick them apart to determine if this man was a true threat or not.
He stepped around her desk. “You don’t have to explain. You can email me the list and talk about what you find with Ren. I can get my information through him.”
His tone was businesslike but there was no missing the resignation in his voice, the acceptance. He expected people to be scared of him.
Something about that made the question tumble out of her. “Should I be scared of you? Did you do it?”
He’d been striding for the door and he stilled. He didn’t look back. “You’re just going to ask me outright if I’m guilty?”
She cringed. “Well, I’ve never been known for my tact.”
Plus, she knew her mother used that method with suspects. Be so blunt that they don’t have time to mask their reaction or response.
He turned, arms crossed, expression tired. “Does it really matter what I say?”
She sat up straighter. “It does.”
“I didn’t do it.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, so without a change of expression that she almost questioned whether she’d heard the words or not. “Okay.”
“See? That doesn’t change your mind at all, does it?”
“I—” She frowned, paused. “I don’t know.”
He gave a quick nod, like he’d expected nothing less. “I appreciate the honesty. I’ll leave you to it, Cora. Copy me in on updates.”
She should let him leave. She could avoid him now without effort because he’d be avoiding her, but she couldn’t help thinking about what Andre had said, couldn’t help sensing this . . . vulnerability in Hayes. What if the guy really had been wrongly convicted? What would that do to a person? Going to prison and knowing you’re innocent . . .
“Hayes, wait.”
NINE
The words hit Hayes in the back, Cora’s hesitation clear. He closed his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Seeing her was still like a punch to the ribs. He’d forgotten himself for a few minutes. Talking with her, hearing about her life, her relationships . . . seeing all those subtle signs that screamed that she craved more than the previous men in her life had given her. Catching her sneaking glances at him a few times, looking at him as something other than a spectacle. It’d made him feel human again. Like a man. A little like the dominant he used to be.
Then he’d accidentally touched her and she’d nearly launched herself across the room. Seeing that fear in her eyes had been a knife in the side. Reality ripping through the fabric of that daydream where a woman could see him as more than a criminal.
He couldn’t bear to stand here and take that look much longer.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice sounding like it’d scraped its way out of his throat with claws.
Her shoulders rose and fell with a breath, those hazel eyes unflinching behind her glasses. “For what it’s worth, I don’t not believe you. I want to believe you.”
He stared at her, the statement shocking the hell right out of him. “You want to believe me?”
She flattened her palms on the desk, her short fingernails going pink against pale skin. “Look, I’m not going to lie. A big part of me is saying stay away from you. When women accuse men of rape, the statistics are overwhelmingly in favor of the woman being the truthful one.”
He turned around fully and gave a nod. “Of course.”
She tilted her head, consternation there. “But I also know convictions don’t get overturned easily. So if they let you out, there must have been compelling evidence to do so.”
He tucked his hands in his pockets, unsure where she was going with this. “There was.”
“And it’s none of my business and you don’t have to tell me what that was but—”