The detective came over and rested his hands on the counter. Hands that had done such wonderful things to my body. "Gin."
"Detective."
"Can we talk?" he asked in a low voice.
I hadn't seen the detective since that afternoon I'd waved to him from the ridge, and he hadn't made any effort to contact me. People always talked about the stages of grief you went through when something traumatic happened. Hah. I'd pretty much moved from hurt to just plain pissed, with no stops in between. Still, I was curious as to why Donovan had come, what he wanted to say to me now, two weeks too late. Fucking curiosity. Just wouldn't let me be.
"Sure. Let's chat." I turned my gray eyes to Violet and Eva. "Why don't you girls go in the back for a few minutes and convince Sophia to make you some fresh milkshakes? On the house."
Violet shrugged and walked around the far end of the counter. Eva Grayson studied Donovan Caine with open interest. She sniffed, clearly telling me she didn't think the detective had anything on her big brother. Then she folowed Violet.
I waited until the two college girls had disappeared through the swinging doors and were out of earshot before I looked back at the detective. "I saw you on TV at the coal mine. Looked like you had your hands full recovering Tobias Dawson's body."
The detective nodded. "I did. But Owen Grayson was a tremendous help with that. So were all the other emergency and disaster workers."
We could have been talking about the weather for as interesting as the conversation was. But the detective's hands gripped the edge of the counter like he wanted to break it off. He was upset about something. I had no idea what it could be. Because he was the one who'd turned his back on me that day at the mine, not the other way around. So I decided to get to the heart of the matter.
"Why did you come here, Donovan?" I asked. "What do you want?"
The detective stared at me, his golden eyes tracing over my face. "I'm leaving Ashland, Gin. I thought you should know. I thought I should tell you in person."
For a moment I was stunned. Simply stunned. Of all the things he could have said, I wasn't expecting that - and the emotions it stirred up in me. Hurt. Anger. Sadness.
"You're leaving town? Why?"
Donovan ran his hands through his black hair. "A lot of reasons. Too many to get into right now."
"Well, let's get into the only one that matters, the real reason you're here. Me," I snapped. "You're leaving town because of me, aren't you?"
"Guilty as charged." The detective tried to smile. It didn't come off very well.
"Why?" I asked. "You turned your back on me at the mine that day. I got the message. For some reason, you don't want to have anything to do with me. Not anymore. You don't have to leave town to accomplish that, detective. I'm not the sort who runs after a man, begging him not to leave her."
My voice dripped with acid. So did my heart, but I kept my face calm, cold, remote. I wasn't going to let Donovan Caine know how much he'd hurt me that day - how much he was hurting me now. I'd thought we could have something together, a real relationship. That maybe Donovan was someone I could share my heart and life with, dark though they were. But that hope had burned up and crumbled to ash, like so many other things in my life. Hope. A wasted emotion, more often than not.
"I came here to explain," Donovan said in a low voice.
"Can you please just let me do that?"
"Fine," I snarled. "Explain."
Donovan drew in a deep breath. "I've thought about you every day, Gin. Ever since that first night we met at the orchestra house. The night Gordon Giles was murdered. I've replayed that scene over and over in my head. And not just that one. That night at Northern Aggression. The time we spent together at the country club. Then, in my car a few weeks ago. That night in the rain. I can't get you out of my head. Your voice, your smell, your laugh, the way you feel against me."
"Why is that a bad thing?" I asked. "We're attracted to each other. That's what people do when they're attracted to each other."
Donovan stared at me. "It's a bad thing because of who you are and what you used to do."
I'd expected the words, but they still stung. I sighed.
"If this is still about Cliff Ingles - "
He shook his head. "It's not about Cliff, not anymore. I know why you killed him. Like I told you before, I might have done it myself, if I'd had the chance. No, this is about me."
I just looked at him.
Donovan drew in a breath. "Do you know why I didn't come see about you at the mine?"
"Not really."
"After that night we were together on my car, I felt like maybe there could be something between us," he said in a low voice. "But then you said you were going after Tobias Dawson. To kill him. And I let you. I let you. I just stood by in the background while you went after another man - to murder him. I did the very thing I'd always sworn not to do - I looked the other way. Not because Dawson was a bad guy, but because of you. I compromised myself because of you, Gin, and what I feel for you."
Guilt, grief, and disappointment flashed in his golden eyes. And I thought back to what Warren T. Fox had told me. He's not the one for you, the old man's voice whispered in my head. Somehow I pushed my hurt aside, trying to be calm and rational about this. Trying to get Donovan Caine to change his mind. To stay. To give us a f**king chance.
"You know as well as I do that Tobias Dawson was never going to leave the Foxes alone. That he was in deep with Mab Monroe and both of them - both of them - would have done everything in their power to get their hands on those diamonds. Dawson dying was the only way to save Warren and Violet."
Donovan shook his head. "I just can't bring myself to believe that, to accept it."
This was the same old argument we'd had so many times now. Too many to count. It wouldn't go anywhere, so I decided to try another tactic. "Why is feeling something for me so terrible? Why can't you just accept the fact I used to be an assassin and that I'm trying to change?"
"Because you'll never change. Not really."
"Oh no?"
"No," he replied in a firm voice. "Think about it. We find out what Tobias Dawson's doing, and what's the first thing out of your mouth? You talking about killing him. You don't consider any other options, you don't consider anything. You decided you wanted Dawson dead, and you made it happen."
"I did what needed to be done," I said in a cold voice.