Chapter 11: Sponsor

Deanna's POV

Wyatt's lake house was an hour north of the city, at the end of a gravel road with no streetlights.

He had told me about the coat on the way there.

Gavin knew about it, and so did whoever had followed us into that garage.

"Then I don't want to be somewhere they can find," I said.

So he drove.

He lit the woodstove without a word and put a kettle on.

I stood in the middle of his kitchen in his sweater, with the sleeves pushed up, and watched the lake go black.

It was nearly midnight.

My mother was asleep in Duluth, and Joanna was home with her tea.

For the first time in four days, no one in the world knew where I was.

"What aren't you telling me?" I asked.

He was standing at the counter with his back to me.

"Nothing I can prove," he said.

"That's not no."

"No," he said. "It's not."

I waited.

He turned around, and his face was grim and tired.

"Give me until Monday," he said. "I'll tell you everything I can stand behind."

I should have pushed.

Instead I looked at his hands on the counter, with the white scars across the knuckles.

I thought about them on my ankle.

I crossed the kitchen and stopped in front of him.

"I made a rule," I said. "No money. No favors."

"I remember."

"I didn't say anything about this."

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

"Deanna."

"You said my name like that in the garage, and I said something stupid."

"You did."

"I'm going to stop saying stupid things now."

I put my hand flat on his chest.

His heart was slamming under my palm.

"Tell me no," I said. "If you mean it."

"I don't," he said roughly, and kissed me.

It was not careful.

His hand came up into my hair, and my back met the edge of the counter.

I opened my mouth under his and heard myself make a low, hungry sound.

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