Twisted Fate (Dark Heart 2)

I want her to, so I can tell her—finally. As stupid as it is, I’d rest easier if I felt like she understood. Instead, she looks down at her plate then back up at me. “Do you feel guilty about people who get caught up in the crossfires of what you do?”

I reach down to pet Oscar, who’s weaving around my chair’s legs. “Yes.” It doesn’t happen every day, but it does happen sometimes. It’s one of the worst things.

“Do people get hurt?” she asks softly.

“Sometimes, yes.” I blink up at her.

“You try to make sure things go okay, though. You watch out for people if you can.”

“If they deserve it.” I give her a humorless smile.

“Do you know a lot of people who don’t?”

“Yes.”

She subject swaps after a syrupy bite of waffle. “What job would you do if you had your pick? Any job?”

I blow a breath out, debating for a second before saying, “My degree is in philosophy.”

“So, what would you do with that?”

I can’t help laughing. “In my alternate life?” I fuck with the edge of my napkin before looking back up at her. “I don’t know. Professor? Analyst? Advocacy?”

Her eyes are so wide, I arch my brows. “That shocked?”

“I don’t—I mean, no and yes,” she says. “I realize you run a business. And philosophy and advocacy are not this. Or are they?” She frowns. “What philosophy is this, anyway…what you do?”

I have to bite my tongue to stop from saying, “Nihilism.” Instead, I give her “Consequentialism.”

“Your business…is that? That’s what you mean?”

“I’m just teasing.”

“But you’re really not.”

“I’m kind of not,” I concede. “I don’t really think that one’s the best fit, though.”

“Which one would be? Which philosophy…best suits you?”

I shrug. “Deontology.”

“The study of Deons?” She grins, and I shake my head. “You can look it up.”

Her foot finds my leg under the table. “Tell me about it. Tell me about college. Did you love the campus? Did you hang out at Riverside Park, or Butler? Bet you didn’t go to the Hungarian Pastry Shop. That place was always way too crowded in a way that I don’t think you’d like.”

I smile thinly. “I went to the library some.”

“Did you live there?”

“On the campus? No. I went some online.”

“Did you like it?”

I shrug. “Got a diploma to set in a closet.”

“You have it hidden in a closet?”

I smile. “It seems weird to hang it on the wall.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a mob don, Elise. And it’s a philosophy degree.” I can’t help laughing.

“I’m going to look up what you told me. If I can remember it.”

“Deontology?”

She nods.

“Remember Kant.”

“Ahh, Kant.”

I give her a quick grin I don’t really feel.

“You got anything else?” I ask her.

“Isa?”

“Good friend.”

“What happened to your mother?” she asks quietly.

“Cancer got her. She had a good run first, though. Had met a nice guy.”

“Is your brother doing well?”

“I would say so,” I tell her, thinking of him asking me to that party.

“Would you marry me?” She props her cheek in her palm. “In a slightly different life?”

I can feel the blood leave my head—so fast that I wonder if I might pass out.

“It’s not another life,” I manage. I watch as she stands up and walks around the table.

“You should sit back down,” I tell her softly.

“Please tell me.” She’s frowning down at me, and her eyes are shining. There are spots of color on her pale cheeks. “If the answer’s no—” she starts.

“It isn’t ‘no.’ But we don’t get another life. I don’t. What does it matter? Do you want to know just so it can hurt?”

“Maybe.” Her eyes well, and she presses her lips together.

“You already know the answer to that.”

“You won’t tell me.” She sounds teary as she drifts back to her chair.

“I don’t think there’s any point.”

I still can’t breathe. I get up and get her clothes and bring them to her. Elise changes in a half bath off the kitchen. Then we step outside together, taking Oscar out. When he’s finished with his business, Elise picks him up and cuddles him for what feels like a long while. I try to pretend that it’s not killing me to see her like this—smiling in my yard, as if she’ll be here forever.

We walk back inside, and she takes Oscar to his crate in the living room. She won’t look at me as she says, “I guess it’s time for me to go.”* * *EliseHe’s quiet on the drive home. I can tell I made him pensive—maybe even angry or upset. I should have never asked about another life. But there are reasons why I couldn’t resist.

He lets me off near my place, slowing at the mouth of an alley. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to hug me, but then he scoots his seat back and leans over, nearly crushing me against his chest as he clings to me for a long time.