22. A Promise

"Tell me about your nightmare."

My heart rumbled in my chest. Apparently this would be the time. I thought Marco had declined the offer of a drink with his father because he wanted to do something with me, a continuation of what he'd done earlier that afternoon in the limo and a few minutes ago at the dinner table. My lips curl downward, slightly disappointed.

We sat facing each other on the long sofa by the window. Marco's right elbow dug into the back of the sofa, supporting his head. He tilted his head, searching through his eyes. My jaw hardened slightly, not liking the way his gaze seemed to be able to pry into anything. What Leandra was hiding? What Leandra's past was like? Or, what was wrong with Leandra?

"It's a long story," I squeaked, pressing one finger into my palm until the nail felt almost through the skin.

"We have plenty of time." His expression was so flat, so clear, like the calm water of a lake. However, at the bottom of that lake I knew there was a monster ready to