Reaper (Dark in You 8)

“No one thought you would. It was a long shot.” Knox dipped his chin. “Again, thank you for your assistance.”

Harper gave her arm a little squeeze. “Go home, eat, rest, maybe take a bath or something so you can relax. You can’t go back to work in this state. You’re still trembling, and you’re white as a sheet.”

Piper nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” she agreed.

After goodbyes were exchanged, Levi led her to his car. Inside it, he sighed. “I was going to tell you at some point that the recent killings could be linked to my aunt’s murder—”

“It’s okay, Levi,” Piper assured him. It hurt that he’d kept her firmly out of the loop, but he was probably only permitted to speak plainly about the killer to very few people. “It’s not like I didn’t already know you’re holding things back that you clearly don’t want to talk about.”

“I kept meaning to tell you, but there never seemed to be a right time. And at the moment, my past is all tangled up in the present shit fest. You’ve been my only bright spot, and I wanted to enjoy that.”

Oh no, her heart didn’t just squeeze.

“Selfish, I know, but there it is.”

“Really, I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me. Especially since it’s sentinel stuff, and I doubt you would have gotten permission from Knox to share it with me anyway.”

“You say that, but I know you’re mad.”

“Yes, I’m mad. I’m mad that a serial killer apparently killed your aunt. I’m angry that he’s back on the scene and seems to believe he did you a fucking favor by making you an orphan. I’m mad because I saw what that motherfucker put Missy through, and I hate that he’s on the loose.” It all made her blood boil.

Levi laid his hand on her thigh, and the touch was so unexpected she almost flinched. “He’ll be caught and stopped, Piper. I promise you that.”

She didn’t doubt him for a second.

Back in his apartment, he ushered her into the kitchen. “You need to eat.”

She exhaled heavily, her shoulders sagging. “I’m tired, Levi.”

“I know. But we need to talk.”

“We don’t. Truly. I’d never expect you to rip open old wounds for me.” She’d never judge or be angry with someone for not wanting to share their personal pain.

“I want to tell you. Also, I don’t want you to be alone. You can sleep once you’ve eaten. No, don’t argue.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “I know what you did today takes a lot out of you. I also know there’s no fucking way it wasn’t hard for you to see what Missy went through. I’m not going to ignore that you’re feeling raw right now.

“Yeah, as you like to remind me, you’re used to it. You’re also used to turning inward and not leaning on anyone. Fuck that, Piper. You’re not alone anymore. I’m here now. And just as you’d want me to turn to you if I was feeling like shit, I want you to turn to me.”

Her chest going tight, she bit back the urge to snark that being her anchor didn’t mean he had the right to expect her to rely on him … because it would have been an out-and-out lie. It did give him that right. Psi-mates were supposed to be there for each other. That was how it worked.

He doesn’t see who you are but what you are.

Fuck if those words wouldn’t stop poking at her. Piper had earlier made the decision to establish some emotional distance between her and Levi. Confiding in him here and now wouldn’t exactly help with that. But he was right, if the situation had been reversed she’d have expected him to offload on her, and she’d have been hurt if he pushed her away.

Plus, he clearly wanted to get some stuff off his chest. She’d be a total bitch if she walked away from him. That wasn’t who she was. So Piper sighed and said, “All right.”

He let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“But my stomach won’t be able to handle anything heavier than a sandwich.”

“A sandwich it is.” He gave her shoulders a light squeeze. “Sit.”

Taking a seat at the island, she watched as he pulled out bread, meat, and various condiments. It felt … weird to have someone insist on being at her side when she was feeling low. Not that her mother or Olive or Joe wouldn’t have been there for her if they’d thought she needed them. But she rarely allowed people to see when she felt low.

“I can’t promise I’ll always come to you,” she told him. “You’re right, I pull inward. It’s … automatic. Not a habit I’ll easily break out of.”

“It’s too ingrained in you, I see that,” he said. “And I suspect you made it a habit to hold in your feelings because Celeste enjoyed trampling on them. I’ll bear that in mind, and I’ll ask you to bear in mind that I won’t stay away if I think you shouldn’t be alone.”