Clint noticed the tensing and mentally cursed himself. He should have lied though she would have known. Feeling her lips on his fist and her free hand brushing his cheek, he shifted to sit up and stared at her in the dark. Her first words left him touched and he lowered his eyes from her face. Sometimes he felt she deserved someone more virtuous. Someone who could help her better wash the blood from her hands.
At her question, he shook his head. "None comes to mind," he admitted truthfully. Which was why it didn't make much sense. "I dunno, maybe something subconscious?" he said, looking up to glance at her. It was the only thing he could think of. Maybe he had seen something and had not realized. It made the most sense.
He drew a knee up and rested his elbow on it before his head laid against his hand. He looked over at her. "You should go back to sleep..."