I raise my hand and cup his cheek in my palm. He hasn't shaved today--maybe not even since yesterday--and his face feels scratchy against my skin. "I love you," I say, and I watch as my words light his face. And then I frown as I see the shadow touch his eyes.
"Dallas?"
"I was so goddamn scared of losing you."
I swallow, then nod. I know that he's talking not only about the attack, but about the way I stormed out of our apartment. But that one's not a real fear, because we both know that I could never have stayed away. Not really. I tried before, after all, and I failed. Thank god, I failed, because now I'm with Dallas.
But the other fear--that I will be taken from him--is real, and it terrifies me, too.
I tilt my head to look up at him, wishing that he would say consoling things. That he would begin talking and tell me that it's all going to be okay, that there is no one out there to hurt me. But that's not going to happen. I have to face this. And I'm so damn grateful that I don't have to face it alone.
"You really think it was the Woman, don't you." My words are a question, but I already know the answer.
"How much did you see? Did you see her wearing the mask?"
I nod. "But it could have been anyone," I add lamely. "That text could have come from someone who thinks that killing me would erase some horrible sin."
"Could be, but it wasn't. And you know it wasn't."
I nod again. I know the truth. I just want to wrap myself tight in a warm blanket of denial.
"We have to find her. We have to keep you safe."
I close my eyes, then simply breathe. "She could have killed me then. She said so in that damn text. Why didn't she?"
"You know why."
He's right. I do. "She's playing with us." I mull over my own words, not sure how to say this, but knowing that I owe him the truth. "I'm scared," I admit. "I don't want to be, but I am. And that pisses me off, because that bitch already took too much from me. I don't want to give her my peace of mind, too."
"Jane." He reaches for me, but I turn away, not yet finished.
"I'm scared," I repeat. "But it's not just for myself. You're the one she's really after. You're the one she's going to want to hurt."
"But, baby, you're missing the point. She does want to hurt me. And she knows that the surest way to do that is to go through you."
His words chill me, and I hug myself and nod. He's right, of course. Dear god, he's absolutely right.
I take a deep breath and force myself to think rationally. "She thinks there's something between you two and I'm the thing that's keeping you apart."
"There's not. You're not."
That actually makes me smile. Almost. I tilt my head back, take a deep breath, and say, "Well, duh." Then I press on. "But what's going to happen when she's forced to realize that? It's going to be bad, Dallas. We have to find out who she is."
"Believe me when I say we're working on that."
I nod, understanding that we're working on it means Quince is working on it. Or more accurately, Quince is working on Colin.
I draw in a breath. "I need to see him."
"Jane--no."
There's a tightness to his voice that I know is worry, but I shake my head, dismissing it. "I have to. If he really did this, I'll know. I need to know for sure. Whatever little bits of doubt are left in my mind, I need them erased. Dallas, he's my father--"
"Is he?"
"Don't play that game with me. If there's anyone who knows the import of blood ties versus legal ties, it's you and me."
He holds up his hands in defeat. "Jane, I--"