Page 76 of The Quiet Witness

“Okay.” Dropping into the chair, she leaned on her knees.

Was that a… moment?

She rested her chin on her wrist, blowing the stray hairs out of her face. No, it couldn’t possibly have been. He was just… off. The meeting with Max had set him on edge. During their square off he was cold, calculated, even taunted his what, colleague? A true chameleon.

Minutes passed in silence, until he scraped his throat. “Still here?”

“Hmmhmm.” She’d debated leaving. But it was either the couch, where she wouldn’t be able to hold her focus in a book. Or, retreating to her room, where she would be alone.

I don’t want to be alone.

“Something you need, Kate?” He didn’t even turn to her.

“What exactly has you so… agitated?”

There was enough to choose from. That he’d let her survive their meeting. Lying to his colleagues, she could only guess what the punishment could be. But judging from the man they’d sent. No good. No good at all.

“I’m being forced to take decisions.” He trailed off, fatigue weighing down his voice, his shoulders. “Decisions I don’t want to take.”

He half-twisted around, studying her for a lingering moment. “Would you do it again? Listening in?”

“The truth?” She bit her lip.

A small smile played silently across his face. “Always.”

She played with her feet, ankles rubbing over each other. “Yes.” Truth was, she hated seeing him this… conflicted. But there was this need within her, to know. To prepare. But she could be honest. Lifting her chin, she said. “I’m sorry. But I should know what I’m facing.”

“Yes.” His shoulder rose and fell as he heaved a resigned sigh and nodded. As if he’d made a decision. “Figures.”

Chapter 31

To Face the Inevitable

“Yes.”

One word. Three letters to declare her own demise. Kate might as well have been digging her own grave.

Kate, the sole variable he couldn’t control. And oh, the irony. She was the only one able to dig his grave beside hers.

By so brazenly endangering his life with her actions tonight, there was no way he could let her live. Truth was, she was right.

Death waited for her, had whispered her name since the night they’d met.

A shame really, for it had almost happened. A slip of control. Her concern for him, the warmth of her hand clasped around his bicep, the closeness between them, the space he had almost closed, a kiss waiting to happen. It simply could not be.

She had left the study, silence finally ushering her out of the room. Alone at last, Lucien dropped down in his chair, wanting to steeple his fingers in front of him. But something was wrong, they moved out of their own accord, trembles running through them. He closed them into a fist. He hadn’t trembled like this since his fourteenth.

It didn’t matter.

For tonight he may have solved the mystery of her surviving the poison. He whirled around in his chair, rummaging through the drawers of his desk.

There had been suspicions all along of course, the way her legs so often couldn’t carry her, same as he had seen on the camera after her little middle finger moment. How her hand wouldn’t open anymore, knuckles white from the effort. She thought he hadn’t seen. Little did she know his youth had taught him to see and hear everything around him.

Bad luck.

He took out his paperwork for the sanctuary, his hand thudded against the false bottom he’d made in the desk. Lifting a dark-colored piece of wood, identical with swirls and all to the wood surrounding it. There were six burner phones waiting for use. Lucien took the utmost left one, a tiny press and three seconds later the dark screen beeped to life. It slipped out of his grip and crashed down between the unused phones. His jaw clenched, trying to ignore the restlessness in his limbs.

It’s not like this is your first kill. What’s the fuss about?