Openly horrified, she gapes at me. “Why would he do something so horrible?”
“To teach me a lesson.” I pull the tie around my neck and begin to secure it. “Love makes you weak.”
“Love doesn’t make you weak,” she disagrees.
The corner of my mouth curves up without humor as I straighten my collar. “Tell that to the 10-year-old whose dog was shot to death for the sin of being loved by him.”
I can see her swallow from here, her blue eyes swimming with sadness. She wasn’t there, she has no stake in any of this, and still she feels sadness for a version of me who never even existed in her lifetime.
Throwing back the blanket, she climbs from the bed and quickly makes her way over to me. She stands on tiptoe, wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, simply.
I don’t hug her back, but she still holds onto me for a full minute. I think back to her silly superpower wish, the desire to absorb pain from others. I wonder if she thinks she’s found a pocket of mine, if she’s trying to absorb some of it for me.
I wonder why she wants to.
When she finally pulls back, she’s looking up at me with her beautiful heart still in her eyes, glistening with unshed tears. I can’t imagine feeling this much sympathy for another person. Maybe I could once, but I can’t anymore.
I think I felt that for Adrian once, but it’s hard to remember. I blocked most of that out along the way, especially after Beth. After my father’s lessons proved true and what I loved most tried to destroy me.
I can’t look at Mia as I turn away to grab my jacket. I need to get the hell away from her. Her, with her trusting blue eyes and her wide-open heart. She’s young and naïve. She just doesn’t know enough of the world to be any other way.
I’m not sure how I didn’t burn it out of her the other day. I’m not sure how she recovered so quickly.
I do know that I’ll burn her out eventually, and I need to guard myself better than I am right now. Someone like her shouldn’t already be tugging at the lock on my heart, trying to breach the entrance. Everything feels too easy with her and I’m letting Beth happen all over again. Mia is kinder than Beth ever was, but she’s also younger. Eventually she’ll grow up—and she’ll be growing around me, so I’m going to twist her up like I twist everyone up.
Brimming with aggravation at myself, I head for the door and leave without another word.
—
“Good day off?”
I rub my jaw, looking across the desk at Adrian. “Fantastic. What have you got for me?”
Adrian drops into the seat across from my desk. “A bunch of shit.” He passes me a folder he put together on someone named Leroy Weiss. “This is Mia’s childhood abuser.”
My gaze snaps from the folder to him. “So there is one?”
“Yep. Conroy and Hernandez have been called off, but Dante isn’t happy about it. He’s on his way over now.”
I don’t especially care how happy Dante is. I flip open the folder and review the report Adrian threw together for me. I’ll read the whole thing later, but I scan it now for crucial information.
Why didn’t she tell me? I specifically asked her and gave her a second chance when we talked about her mom’s old boyfriends. This asshole was one of her mom’s old boyfriends. What the fuck?
“You’re gonna want to kill her mom after you read that,” he warns me. Not in the colloquial way; I’ll probably actually long to have her murdered. “I wouldn’t do it,” he advises. “We’ll take out the guy, but as shitty as her mom is, it’s just going to create an additional headache for you with Mia.”
“She doesn’t have to know I killed her.”
“I know, but she has other kids with nowhere to go and it’s superfluous. You can easily keep Mia away from her. If you’re gonna kill the mom, the other kids are going to end up in the system. None of them have dads I can put a name to. I could look into it more if you want and figure out who they belong to, but if they don’t even know, they’re not going to have relationships with the bastards. I don’t suppose you want to take in Mia’s younger siblings?”
“Not particularly.”
Adrian nods. “Then my official advice is to let Shelly live. For Mia, if for no other reason. Even if they don’t have a relationship, you know she would be upset if her mom died.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” I admit, a bit grudgingly. “Where’s the rest of the information on this guy? I don’t even see an address for him.”