I held a palm out. “I’ll admit that was rash.”
“It was borderline abusive.”
I clenched my jaw. “Don’t call me that.” I took a step closer to her, not afraid of her skills. She could hurt people, and she wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if she thought it was her only option—but I was just as dangerous.
She held my gaze for one defiant moment before backing off and putting space between us again, her hands in the air. “All right, fine. But you understand my point. You never should’ve taken her there.”
“It’s too late now. I’m not going to leave Melanie alone until this is all over.”
“But then you will?”
I glanced toward the Rover. It lingered in the street, waiting.
Would I walk away from Melanie when this was finished?
It was an interesting question, and one I wasn’t ready to answer. The truth was, I didn’t know what I’d be leaving behind. This began as curiosity and a way to get what I wanted—access to her brother.
But the more time I spent around her, the more fascinated I became. It was her strength and her beauty and her determination. I didn’t know what she was searching for yet, but it was something dangerous and something better left in the past.
I admired her drive to drag it out into the open.
I wanted her. I couldn’t deny it to myself, even if it had been a long time since I felt this way about a woman. I never let myself grow too attached—anything that could be hurt could hurt me. I never loved, never liked, only lusted and walked away.
Melanie wasn’t like that.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I said simply.
Palmira glared. “Try. For her sake.”
I looked down at my hands and turned to the Rover. “I appreciate this little talk and I’ll keep your advice in mind.”
“Don’t let her hang herself with the past,” Palmira said as I climbed into the SUV. “She’s looking for something that should stay buried!”
I shut the door and the driver pulled out. I watched Palm in the mirror until she disappeared.
Something that should stay buried. Something about her uncle, her mother, and her grandfather’s death. I could guess what happened, but it would only be speculation. Melanie knew something, and she was going to dig and dig until she had the truth.
And I’d help her.
Even if the answer didn’t matter to me. What happened thirty years ago wasn’t my concern. Her grandfather was just another corpse in the past on a planet littered with skeletons and lost lives. I’d gone through too much for that to matter now.
And I’d help anyway.
Because if she wanted it, then I wanted it too.
Chapter 13
Melanie
Laurel smiled at me over her plastic water bottle and leaned back in her chair. Sunlight flooded in through the big plate glass windows and I couldn’t help but admire my cousin.
She had everything I wanted. Not her family’s money—we had more. No, it was her confidence, and her poise, and her looks, and her freedom.
“Law school,” I said, shaking my head. “Must be pretty nice.”
“More like an insane amount of work.”
“Still, you’re going to be a lawyer with a degree from Stanford. That’s pretty good.”
“All right, it’s not bad.” She grinned and shrugged, crossing her arms. The cafeteria crawled with other students, but we sat in a small, secluded spot in the far back corner. The dining halls at Stanford were shockingly nice—much better than I had anticipated. But I shouldn’t have been surprised, given the size of Stanford’s endowment.
I wondered if Nervosa could pull his support, and if the food would suffer as a consequence. The poor, spoiled Stanford kids. I’d have to make sure he didn’t do that.
“Can I ask you something? It’s maybe not a nice question but I’m so curious.”
“I guess so.” She laughed and stabbed her fork into the big salad she was picking at. “We’re family, after all.”
“How come you work at that coffee place? I mean, your dad’s got money, right?”
“Oh, that.” She waved a hand in the air as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “He doesn’t pay all my bills. I mean, he helps with school, but that’s it. I work there for pocket change.”
“Huh,” I said, shaking my head. I couldn’t imagine a life where money was a constant worry, but that was the majority of people. My situation was rare in the grand scheme.
“What about you? Living off the family dime?”
I blushed and nodded. “I’m not proud of it, but yeah, it’s true.”
“No reason to be ashamed. If I could, I would.”
“Your dad seems pretty well-off. I mean, he’s running a pharma company, right?”
She waved her fork in the air, chewing, and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “He’s doing good now, but it wasn’t always that way. His company’s been a little stagnant for a long time, you know? He’s been super stressed the past year or two, but money’s been good, so I guess that’s good.”