Page 46 of Killer Notes
“Said what?” His question comes out muffled against my chest.
I release him and step back, needing the space. “Calling you my boyfriend.” I head back into the house, then retrieve the key and folder Carl dropped on the floor.
“How long were you with him?” Danny asks as he sits on the sofa, tucking his legs under him.
“Four—almost five years.”
“And that guy with him is?”
I drop down next to him. “He was the guy I found Carl with in our bed.”
“What fucking balls.” Danny scowls. “They’re lucky you didn’t put both of them through a wall. I would have.”
“Neither of them were worth going to jail for. Besides, it’s the past. I’m over it.”
Danny tilts his head slightly, studying me. “Are you sure?”
I let out a choked laugh. “Trust me. I’m done with that asshole—hell, I’m done with relationships. All I want is to get off, move on, and be left alone.”
The second those stupid words spit out of my mouth I realized I’ve fucked up big time and now I can’t take them back.
Danny’s body immediately stiffens, and he turns his gaze down to his lap. He slowly gets up from the sofa and whispers, “I need a shower.”
“Danny… Wait.”
Too late. He ignores me as he heads to the bathroom and firmly closes the door, the click of the lock as loud as a clanging gong. The shower goes on, adding another barrier to communication between us.
I want to tell Danny that I wasn’t talking about him… Or was I?
How do I explain to the singer that I learned a hard lesson from my ex? What I assumed was a good relationship wasn’t. Trust is important. So is honesty, which I thought Carl and I had. But I was wrong. Carl took my trust and my love, and kicked it to the fucking curb.
Danny isn’t like Carl. But lately, I can’t seem to rely on my judgment. It has steered me the wrong way too many times. And committing to someone, especially in this business, when I’m gone more than being at home, is not smart. I don’t know if my battered heart can take another rejection and betrayal. I won’t go through that again—not until I know for damn sure my feelings are returned.
Maybe, I should explain to Danny that, one day, I’ll be ready for a relationship again. Just not now. He should understand, because we hardly know each other. Being together for two weeks doesn’t make either of us friends—not when I’m on the job to protect him.
Besides, Danny is way too good for the likes of me.
The itch to run hits me, so I grab my running shoes, forgo the shirt, and follow the trail around the lake. A good hour passes before I head back to the house. My entire body’s buzzing from the exertion energy and my head is finally clear.
The moment I step inside, I almost trip over Saint, who is laying by the door. He lifts his head to look at me and then lays it back on his paws. The silence in the space has me moving to the bedroom Danny is using. His luggage is gone, along with all his clothes and toiletries. I rush to the drawer where he’d put his cell phone and find it missing.
“Shit.”
I don’t bother calling him, because Danny won’t pick up. Instead, I take off down the dirt drive that leads to the main road. As I round the bend, a quarter of a block away, I spot the singer ahead of me, carrying a few bags and dragging his luggage behind him.
Danny glances over his shoulder, sees me and tries to run. If the situation wasn’t so dire, I would have laughed at the way he attempted to carry his bags and luggage while running from me.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I call out, slowing down when I’m about ten feet away.
“Fuck you,” he shouts, flipping me the finger at the same time, and he ends up dropping one of his bags. “Go away.”
“Ah, come on, Danny. Stop. Talk to me.” I reach his side, and pick up the dropped bag. After slinging it over my shoulder, I pull him to a stop.
He yanks away from my hand. “Leave me alone, Tobias. Isn’t this what you want? To be alone?”
“Listen to me,” I say, crowding into his space, making him drop the rest of his bags.
“There’s nothing to say.” He steps back, trips over his luggage and almost falls flat on his ass. But I catch him before he’s hurt.