her eyes. Just some steel and attitude. “Why?”
She wasn’t requesting information. She was demanding it.
This would have been a good time to tell another half truth. Especially since—much to his disgust—he was getting good at them.
But another lie would stick in his throat.
“I’m looking for your brother, Dexter,” he confessed.
Her eyes immediately darkened, and he saw the pulse pound on her throat. “You followed me on the train?”
Lucky nodded. “I followed you.”
“Why?” she repeated, though this one had even more steel than the original one.
“Because I thought you might lead me to him.”
She tipped her eyes to the ceiling and groaned. “I was right about you. You’re one of those men. The ones who’ve followed me and tried to scare me.”
He reached out to her, but Marin batted his hands away. “Scaring you was never my intention. I just need to find your brother.”
“What do you want from Dexter?” she snapped.
Lucky was betting this answer wasn’t so obvious. “The truth?”
She sliced at him with a scalpel-sharp glare. “That would be nice for a change.”
He debated if Marin was strong enough to hear this. Probably not. But there was no turning back now. He toyed with how he should say it. But there was only one way to deliver news like this. Quick and dirty.
He’d tell her the truth even if it made Marin hate him.
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