“Get. Off.”
He took a step back, giving her space, but she didn’t move. “Get off the train,” she clarified before wheeling and heading toward the narrow door in the corner of the alcove. “I appreciate your assistance, but I can make it the rest of the way on my own.”
The words were strong and her eyes were cold, but there was an uncharacteristic lilt to her voice, a more-defiant-than-usual set to her chin as she said it, like she was bracing for a laugh, for a mock, for some kind of cruelty to be determined later.
“Go ahead,” she even told him. “Laugh. I can take it.”
He had to make her see—make her know—“I’m not laughing.”
It must have been the speeding train, why he felt unsteady on his feet. When Zoe pulled open the tiny door and stepped inside the even tinier compartment, it must have been temporary insanity that made Sawyer push in after her.
“Get out!”
“Not until you listen.” He slammed the door. He hadn’t even registered that it was the lavatory until she had to back up against the sink to make room for his big body.
“If you think I’m joining whatever the train version of the mile-high club is with you— Ouch!”
She banged her head against a small cabinet, so he used one hand to cup her head and the other to circle her waist and lift, setting her atop the counter and stepping in between her spread thighs.
“You were right,” he admitted. “I thought about using you. And then I thought about leaving you.”
“Uh . . . I know!”
“Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He let his eyes take her in, from her wild hair to the bruise to the—damn, was she bleeding again? It proved his point, though. He cursed silently to himself then grabbed a tissue and pressed it against her temple. He hated the way her eyes closed when he touched her—was it because her head hurt? Or something else? Because touching her hurt him, too, but he wasn’t anywhere near brave enough to say it.
“I thought about leaving last night because I thought you were safe there. I thought you’d stay safe there. I thought . . .” Sawyer had been trained in interrogation tactics and at least twenty different ways to spot a lie, but for the life of him he didn’t know how to say—“I learned a long time ago that everyone is safer far away from me.”
It was almost peaceful there, in the small, dim room on the gently rocking train. And Zoe was so close—warm and safe and alive. He had to keep her alive.
“Is this about Helena?”
He balled up the tissue and threw it in the bin. “It’s about a lifetime of collateral damage. I thought you’d be safer if I left, Zoe. That’s all.” He cupped her face and pulled her close. “I was wrong. So . . .” He drew a deep breath; he was going to need it. “I’m sorry I almost left last night. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about the card in Paris. And I’m sorry I thought about using you to access the vault. And I’m sorry that I’ve lost track of all the things I’m supposed to be sorry for. But, mostly, I’m sorry this is happening to you.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry I can’t keep you safe.”
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered.
His thumb ran over the smooth skin of her cheek in the world’s tiniest caress. “Of course it is.”
Zoe looked over her shoulder, into the mirror—at the face the world was looking for. “As long as the world is after Alex, I’ll never be safe.”
“I know. I—”
“That’s why I have to clear Alex’s name.”
It sounded so simple—so obvious and so easy. But she was also so wrong he could cry. “These people are dangerous, Zoe. They’re monsters.”
“I know! There’s a price on my sister’s head, remember? On my head.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to pay it!” Then he pressed against her, body against body, foreheads touching because he didn’t trust his hands. He’d spent too much time training them to act on instinct, and if he let them near her, then he didn’t trust what they might do.
So he breathed in her scent and he matched her breath for breath, and he wished he were the kind of man who could save her. And he wished she were the kind of woman who would let him.
“Let me get you someplace safe.”
“You want me safe?” She seemed to take it like a dare. “And out of your hair?”