Free Falling

Speed Shift

The words he'd just spoken were still bouncing around in his head when she finally came downstairs. He knew he was being hard on himself. There was no such thing as finding the perfect words to say. However, seeing that look of doubt on her face made him worry a little bit, and he was sure as rain in Steelport that she could talk herself out of her feelings for him. She'd given him the excuse that she worried about his safety, but he would bet a vital organ it was much deeper than that. He just had to pick at her and find out what.

He watched her put together a bowl of cereal, inwardly laughing as she contemplated where she wanted to sit, near him or by the windows. "I won't bite you unless you want me to."

Her face scrunched up in a scowl despite the blush that colored her cheeks. "That doesn't really reassure me, you know."

He smiled and returned his divided attention to his coffee mug. One thing was nagging at him, something he hadn't thought of before his talk with her. Something he was certain would drastically affect any chances he had of being with her in the long run.

Eventually, he'd have to tell her about his involvement with the S.U. Massacre.

His fingers rubbed the smooth, hot surface of the cup as he thought out different scenarios. It was likely she'd get outrageously upset and never speak to him again. It was probable she'd attempt to kill him. There was a tiny possibility she'd succeed at doing so if he fucked up defending himself.

She sat next to him, throwing off his train of thought. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Just coffee so far." He held up the cup then settled back into his thoughts. No matter how she reacted, all bets were off if anyone but him told her the truth. He was fairly certain she'd see nothing but the worse in him for not telling her up front, especially when Pierce had given him a heads up the first night he'd forced her to stay. Worse yet, when he'd tried to go to sleep last night, he'd remembered through a dream what had happened in the gift shop during the shootout...

He hadn't been able to go back to sleep and wasn't sure if he ever wanted to again.

He reached into his cargo pants pocket and pulled out a wadded mess of wires, then placed it on the kitchen island next to her plate. She looked at it then at him. "What's this?" She gingerly picked it up.

"A music player. You said you couldn't live without music, but you haven't been listening to it since you got here." He sipped his coffee, scalding his tongue.

"I have been listening to music. I watch the music video network, turn on the radio in the bathroom when I bathe, and I always turn on the radio in the car." She shook her head and smiled. "You just don't pay attention."

He could tell her now. They were alone, and he didn't have to be anywhere yet. He tested out the critical sentence in his head. 'I was the one who started the shooting, and I was right there when she was shot.' He cringed. There was no pretty way to say it. He looked at her and, for the second time in his life, was consumed with regret. How was he ever supposed to know that by making that one decision then he would jeopardize his first real relationship? Sure, he wanted her in his life, but he wasn't the type of guy to force her to stay if she well and truly didn't want to be in it.

Fuck it. He had to bite the bullet and just deal with the consequences.

"Denitra, I ha-"

"What you said earlier Jay was really beautiful." She spoke quietly, not looking up from her bowl. "And I think you have a point, about needing a better excuse as to why I think we can't be in a relationship. I don't know exactly what's holding me back, but I promise you I'm working on finding out." She looked up and gave him a small smile, holding out her pinky for him. "I pinky swear."