Cold Dead Hands

Dane

It sounded so cold when he said it. So…evil.

Lila visibly paled. Her mouth fell open, and for the first time since they'd met, he saw true fear in her eyes. Dane leaned back and let go of her hands. He'd misjudged this completely. He should never have said it. Now she was afraid of him!

"Please," she whispered, swallowing as her voice broke. "Please promise me you'll never…Dane, it will only hurt you."

He flapped a hand and made a face, tried to brush it off. "I didn't mean I'd kill him, Lila, I just meant—"

"No. Don't. I know exactly what you meant. Look at me, Dane."

He was still leaned right back in his chair. But she'd hunched forward over the table, heedless of the dirty plate in front of her. He forced himself to meet her eyes, bracing for the fear in them. But instead, it was sadness. Why?