Read Online Come Unto These Yellow Sands by Josh Lanyon - Free Book Online
Authors: Josh Lanyon
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but he couldn’t tell you the truth about why.”
Despite Swift’s instant repudiation of the idea, it sounded logical. Plausible. Swift knew only too well how it felt to grab desperately for your old life, for any kind of stability, when the ground started to give way beneath you.
Max’s voice jarred him from his reflections. “So Corelli gave you no idea of where he was going?”
“I thought he was going to the bungalow. Just from the way he reacted when I gave him the keys, I was sure I’d find him there.”
“Are you sure he hadn’t been there?”
“Well, I’m not a forensics expert, but the place felt—smelled, looked—like it hadn’t been opened since I was there during the summer. Everything was exactly as I’d left it. Only dustier.”
Max rubbed his bearded chin meditatively. “So you have absolutely no idea of where Corelli would go if he was in trouble?”
“No. I’d hope that he’d come to me. Which he did. Beyond that…no. I don’t know anything about his personal life.”
Max made a sound, not exactly a snort, that indicated this was no surprise. What did that mean? Was it supposed to be commentary on Swift’s social interactions? Because how was Max in a position to judge? He had only permitted Swift into a small corner of his own life.
“Can you think of anything that might be useful?” Max asked. Meaning that so far nothing Swift had had to say was useful? That was probably true. At least from Max’s perspective.
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
Max inclined his head, accepting that much. “I don’t need to tell you—hopefully—that if Corelli does get in touch with you, you need to contact me immediately.”
“No.” Max’s eyes narrowed and Swift added quickly, “No, you don’t have to tell me. I know I fucked up.”
“Yep. You got that right.”
Swift opened his mouth to apologize again, but all at once he was tired of it. He was sorry, sincerely sorry, but he wasn’t going to grovel. In fact, he was starting to get irritated. His eyes met Max’s, and he saw that Max was reading him quite accurately, lip cynically curling.
Neither spoke for a few strange moments.
“Why did you do it?” Max sounded curious. “Why did you keep it from me? Aside from the fact that you were breaking the law, you had to know it wasn’t going to…end well between us.”
That cool end well between us knotted Swift’s stomach, doused his flare of rebellion. If he’d realized at the time that he was ending things between himself and Max, then of course he’d have handled matters differently. Didn’t it go without saying? He’d never intended or wanted to lose Max. Maybe he’d been naïve enough to think that whatever was between them was strong enough to survive—no. The fact was, he just hadn’t thought far enough ahead. He’d acted on impulse. And his efforts to fix his mistake had failed. It was that simple.
Max was still waiting for an answer. Swift said, “It wasn’t a conscious decision.”
“Really? Were you unconscious at the time?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. I can’t begin to understand what the hell went through your head. I’ve tried.”
“I know it doesn’t count for much now, but I wanted to spare him—”
Max’s face changed instantly. “Christ. Spare me ,” he interrupted. “He played you, Swift. You don’t get that yet, do you? You still think, what? He’s innocent and hiding from the real killer or some other bullshit story?”
Swift deserved that. He was probably wasting his breath, but he tried anyway. “No. I don’t know. Will you just listen to me, Max? Can’t you give me that much?”
Max pressed his lips against whatever it was he dearly wanted to say. He waited. Pointedly.
Swift knew that set, stubborn line of Max’s jaw. He wasn’t going to change Max’s mind. Not about Tad and not about himself. He tried anyway. He had to. It was too important not to try, however unflattering to
Despite Swift’s instant repudiation of the idea, it sounded logical. Plausible. Swift knew only too well how it felt to grab desperately for your old life, for any kind of stability, when the ground started to give way beneath you.
Max’s voice jarred him from his reflections. “So Corelli gave you no idea of where he was going?”
“I thought he was going to the bungalow. Just from the way he reacted when I gave him the keys, I was sure I’d find him there.”
“Are you sure he hadn’t been there?”
“Well, I’m not a forensics expert, but the place felt—smelled, looked—like it hadn’t been opened since I was there during the summer. Everything was exactly as I’d left it. Only dustier.”
Max rubbed his bearded chin meditatively. “So you have absolutely no idea of where Corelli would go if he was in trouble?”
“No. I’d hope that he’d come to me. Which he did. Beyond that…no. I don’t know anything about his personal life.”
Max made a sound, not exactly a snort, that indicated this was no surprise. What did that mean? Was it supposed to be commentary on Swift’s social interactions? Because how was Max in a position to judge? He had only permitted Swift into a small corner of his own life.
“Can you think of anything that might be useful?” Max asked. Meaning that so far nothing Swift had had to say was useful? That was probably true. At least from Max’s perspective.
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
Max inclined his head, accepting that much. “I don’t need to tell you—hopefully—that if Corelli does get in touch with you, you need to contact me immediately.”
“No.” Max’s eyes narrowed and Swift added quickly, “No, you don’t have to tell me. I know I fucked up.”
“Yep. You got that right.”
Swift opened his mouth to apologize again, but all at once he was tired of it. He was sorry, sincerely sorry, but he wasn’t going to grovel. In fact, he was starting to get irritated. His eyes met Max’s, and he saw that Max was reading him quite accurately, lip cynically curling.
Neither spoke for a few strange moments.
“Why did you do it?” Max sounded curious. “Why did you keep it from me? Aside from the fact that you were breaking the law, you had to know it wasn’t going to…end well between us.”
That cool end well between us knotted Swift’s stomach, doused his flare of rebellion. If he’d realized at the time that he was ending things between himself and Max, then of course he’d have handled matters differently. Didn’t it go without saying? He’d never intended or wanted to lose Max. Maybe he’d been naïve enough to think that whatever was between them was strong enough to survive—no. The fact was, he just hadn’t thought far enough ahead. He’d acted on impulse. And his efforts to fix his mistake had failed. It was that simple.
Max was still waiting for an answer. Swift said, “It wasn’t a conscious decision.”
“Really? Were you unconscious at the time?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. I can’t begin to understand what the hell went through your head. I’ve tried.”
“I know it doesn’t count for much now, but I wanted to spare him—”
Max’s face changed instantly. “Christ. Spare me ,” he interrupted. “He played you, Swift. You don’t get that yet, do you? You still think, what? He’s innocent and hiding from the real killer or some other bullshit story?”
Swift deserved that. He was probably wasting his breath, but he tried anyway. “No. I don’t know. Will you just listen to me, Max? Can’t you give me that much?”
Max pressed his lips against whatever it was he dearly wanted to say. He waited. Pointedly.
Swift knew that set, stubborn line of Max’s jaw. He wasn’t going to change Max’s mind. Not about Tad and not about himself. He tried anyway. He had to. It was too important not to try, however unflattering to
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