Where You Hurt the Most by Brooke Anne

Author:Brooke, Anne [Brooke, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2012-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

A month, maybe six weeks went by. Dan didn’t come back and I didn’t expect him to, though for two or three Sundays I waited as if he might. The summer stretched out and I recovered my senses and my routine, concentrating on clients until the image of the injured young man I’d met only twice knocked less insistently at my mind.

One Sunday afternoon, at the tail-end of August, Max visited me. Of course he’d been to see me since I’d been with Dan, but only regarding professional matters. He hadn’t mentioned Dan or asked about what had happened, for which I was more than grateful. I couldn’t think of an answer for him.

But this visit was different. When I let him in, he simply nodded at me and strolled through to the living room. I could feel the shadows shifting between us and didn’t know how to interpret them. Falling back on what I did know, I offered him a drink and something to eat, but he shook his head and sat down.

“No, thank you.” He gestured at the chair opposite him, “Please, sit.”

I obeyed, and waited.

He didn’t speak for a while, and then coughed and caught my gaze. “Something happened with Dan, didn’t it?”

Stupidly, I tried to laugh it off. “Yes, of course it did. I enjoyed meeting him. We got along fine in the end. We had a good night together, though—”

“Stop it.” Max slammed his hand on the coffee table and brought my ridiculous speech to a halt. “It’s not what I mean and you know it. I didn’t think you were fool enough to lie to me, Adrian, but because I respect you and your decisions I’m giving you a second chance. So, tell me. What happened that night?”

I took a breath, closed my eyes, and explained to him, as far as I could, how different it had been. I even told him how I’d seen Dan’s face, but not how I’d touched it, nor what we had said before Dan left. That was too private.

When I finished, I opened my eyes. He leant forward, hands clenched together.

“You saw Dan’s face,” he said.

“Yes.”

“He’s not allowed anyone in the family to see it. He covers it up always.”

I couldn’t tell if Max was happy or angry at the state of affairs. “I’m not family.”

“No,” he said. “No, you’re not. That much is true.”

“I haven’t lied to you, not this time. I swear it.”

He held up one hand to stop me. “I’m not accusing you. It’s okay. Really.”

I realised at the same time that Max was frowning and my face was wet. I had to stop thinking of Dan. It was foolish and did nobody any good, least of all me. Something soft and white was pressed into my fingers. Max’s handkerchief. I used it to wipe the tears away. It smelt of his cologne, spicy and warm. And suddenly I wanted to give him something else, some other kind of explanation of how I felt.

“I told him my name,” I said.

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