“I confronted her a little while ago,” I tell her. It won’t hurt her to know this.

“Why did she do it? I mean, she and I never really liked each other but fuck. She really hurt me.”

I clear my throat. I’m not ready to tell her that part just yet. Because that secret would unravel far too many others.

“I don’t know,” I lie instead.

She studies me. “You think she messed with the EpiPen too?”

“I suspect so.”

“But she’s gone now. What does that mean exactly? Gone like Theron or…”

“I have men looking for her.”

“Jesus, Judge! You knew what she did to me, and you didn’t have her arrested or something?”

“There was more to it than that, and I was managing her. I felt it would be better to have her where I could keep an eye on her. That was clearly a mistake.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Why did you move me in here? Why the extra security?”

“With Abel having attacked Ivy like he did, I didn’t want to take a chance he’d come after you, too.” It is true. I have considered it. And I think this will be less frightening for Mercedes to deal with than knowing the brother of the woman she killed is out for revenge.

“Abel? He won’t come after me. Why would he?”

“You’re Santiago’s sister. Not to mention you can testify against him to The Tribunal.”

“Abel doesn’t scare me.”

Cupping her chin, I tilt her face up to mine. “Well, I’m not taking any chances with you. I will do what I need to do to keep you safe, little monster, even if I have to lock you away to do it.”

“That was actually starting to sound sweet and then just got creepy.”

I cup the base of her skull and pull her close. “I mean it, Mercedes. Seeing you like that the other day, feeling fucking powerless to fix it, it fucked with me.”

“Be careful, Judge.” She turns her huge eyes to me. She’s so close that I see faint rings of gold inside them, and fuck, she’s so beautiful, disarmingly so. “You don’t want me to get the impression you care.”

We look at each other for a long moment, and I know what she’s waiting for. Confirmation. But nothing has changed between us. Nothing can change. I won’t marry her. I can’t. And she’s right. I can’t give her false hope.

So I change the subject. “Georgie’s gay.”

She searches my eyes, and I see her disappointment, but then she grins. “It took you a really long time to figure that out.”

“Why did you let me believe you two were together?”

“I didn’t. You believed that all on your own.”