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It’s my fault.
“It’s all my fault!” I scream. “She…she only came early because it was my birthday. She didn’t have to be here. She just came here for me…”
Deklan holds me tightly. I want to push him away, but his grip is unyielding, warm and familiar. I lean against him and sob into his shirt as he faces the detective.
“Look, my wife obviously isn’t up for this now, and you guys need to go.”
“We need some answers, Mr. Kearney.” Warren squares his shoulders and tries to stand tall, but Deklan stands as well, towering over him. “I can always issue a subpoena, but it would be a lot easier if you both cooperate.”
“Well, I’ll bring her to the station with our attorney when she’s feeling better. For now, you need to get out.”
I don’t look up, but I hear grumbling and footsteps walking away. Deklan sits back down beside me, enveloping me once again.
“It’s not your fault, babe. You know it isn’t.”
“It is!”
“Hush.” Deklan strokes my hair and rubs my back, and I cling to his shirt. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”
“Why were you there, Dek? You were supposed to be out of town!”
“I was,” he says softly. “I was in Chicago but had to return early. There were details that had to be discussed with Sean in person. I really can’t say any more than that.”
I barely hear his words as my mind replays what happened. Arguing with Deklan. Kathy appearing out of nowhere with my gun pointed at my husband. Grabbing his arm. The insanely loud crack that echoed through the street. The man in the shadows.
“Arden, get the fuck out of here.”
“It’s his fault.” I tighten my fingers around the fabric of Deklan’s shirt. “He’s the one responsible.”
Deklan tightens his grip around me.
“He did this. He killed Kathy!” I begin to shake. I have to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering, and the pain in my head increases as I pull back from Deklan’s chest and stare him in the face.
“You have to kill him, Deklan. You have to kill him for me.”
Chapter 22
Deklan stares at me with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.
“Kera,” he finally whispers, “you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do,” I reply through gritted teeth. “I want him dead, Dek. I want him gone!”
Deklan glances quickly over his shoulder, staring at the open door and the nurses’ station beyond.
“Don’t say anything else about it,” he says quietly. “I talked to the doctor, and he said you can be released shortly. We’ll talk at home.”
I’m left alone while Deklan goes to find my doctor so I can get out of here. As I sit on the bed, I see the face of Kathy’s killer in my mind. His eyes are cold and calculating. He’s a monster.
Deklan returns with the doctor and shows me where to sign the discharge papers. A nurse walks in behind them with a plastic bag full of my clothing. I pull out the sequined shirt I had been wearing, and tears well up in my eyes. When I see the tiara at the bottom of the bag, I lose it completely.
I cradle the headpiece in my arms as Deklan picks me up like a child, tells the nurse with the wheelchair to fuck off, and carries me out to a black sedan. He slides me into the passenger seat and then walks around the front of the car to get in.
“Whose car is this?”
“Rental,” Deklan says. “At some point, you’ll ha
ve to tell me where my Viper is.”
