Then Reece slumped. He pulled his hand away from Stone, and the man dropped the gun, his head lolling back against the roof. His bloody eyes closed, his chest rising and falling as if in sleep.
Reece slowly put his shaking hands on his head.
Grayson didn’t speak for several moments. Then he finally said, “I don’t understand.”
Numbness was swallowing up the black lightning, sending it back to whatever cave in Reece’s mind it hid in. He heard shouts as police officers began pouring onto the roof through the elevator room and the fire stairs.
But he kept his gaze on Grayson’s boots. “Don’t you remember what my surrender looks like?”
Grayson’s eyes never left Reece as he held up a hand to the approaching SPD. The officers stopped a few feet away from them, weapons raised, confusion on all of their faces.
Then Grayson said quietly, for Reece’s ears alone, “You could have killed me.”
Reece closed his eyes. “I know.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t.”
Grayson, for once, didn’t seem to know what to say.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The world needs the Dead Man. What the Dead Man needs can never matter.
—crumpled note in Evan Grayson’s handwriting
Down in the reserved parking space in the parking lot of Stone Solutions, Reece sat on the open tailgate of Grayson’s truck, still in Grayson’s too-big hoodie, his cuffed hands in his lap. SPD officers bustled around him, giving him a wide berth.
He should already be in prison by now. No doubt Grayson had warned everyone that Reece couldn’t be taken to a normal prison. Maybe they’d take him to an empath prison, or that place in British Columbia. Maybe they’d lock him away in the basement of Stone Solutions.
Maybe none of it mattered anymore.
He heard the echo of big boots on the pavement, the sound of someone perfectly capable of moving with silence who wanted their approach to be heard.
Reece swallowed. “Did I kill Stone?”
Grayson stopped only a foot away. “No.”
A straight answer for once. Reece tried to feel relieved but found he couldn’t feel much of anything. Or maybe he felt too much of everything. Shock, for now.
The grief would come.
“Reece.”
Reece took a slow breath and reluctantly looked up.
Grayson’s blood-stained coat was gone, replaced by a navy blue SPD sweatshirt that was stretched too tight across his shoulders. His arms were crossed around his body for warmth, the sleeves at least three inches above his wrists. “I have to show you something.”
His face was, as always, a vault. Reece didn’t think he could bear the sight, especially now that he knew why.
He looked away. “I realize you might not be the most emotionally sensitive person in the world,” he said, through a tight throat, “but even you can’t think I want to see you right now.”
“I’m sure you don’t. I have to show you something anyway.” Grayson pointed up the side of the building. “Look.”
If he looked, maybe Grayson would go away and leave Reece to his numbness alone, so he grudgingly tipped his head back and squinted into the gray skies.
And then he stilled.
