Page 32 of Fractured Memories

“Do those things interest you?” I feel him take a step toward me. “Wouldn’t you rather ask about my extensive weapons collection? Or the nearby waterfall?”

His words send a thrill through me, and I wonder if those are things I enjoy. Given the way I’m tempted to jump in the water and I keep reaching for something not sheathed at my side, I’d think yes.

But instead of being comforting, the words unsettle me. I don’t like that he knows something about me I don’t. Especially when I don’t know if he gained the knowledge from spending time with me or watching me from a distance. He could be using it to get me to let my guard down, to make me trust him when I shouldn’t.

Edging away from him, I glance around his large frame toward the door. I’m suddenly eager to get away from him. He makes it feel like I can’t breathe, and I hate feeling so unsure of myself.

“Maybe some other time…”

Kieran shifts, and I’m surprised when he gives me more space. Where is the guy that threw me over his shoulder and carried me inside? Where is the man who locked me in a room?

“Are you hungry?” He catches me off guard with the question. I tilt my head, trying to decide his angle, and he adds, “I can send food to your room. Or you can join me out here.”

He inclines his head toward the dining area, which admittedly looks much more inviting than forcing myself back inside. With this view and the fresh air, I’m tempted. The only hesitation I feel is spending more time with Kieran.

He’s being too civil right now. It has me on edge. But maybe it’s my chance to get answers to some of my questions.

That reason has me nodding. “Eating out here sounds nice.”

Relief flashes across his face, almost unreadable, but I easily pick it up. I look away, hating how well I can read him.

“I’ll be right back.” He turns on a heel and heads inside.

I suck in lungfuls of air once he’s gone, that oppressive tension easing slightly. My body feels hypersensitive, and I try to shake it off as I cross to the seating area, curling up in one of the chairs. But I can’t seem to relax, my heart rate spiking when Kieran reappears.

“It shouldn’t be long.” His body moves so fluidly it’s mesmerizing to watch as he crosses the patio to the bar in the corner. “Would you like a drink?”

Even though a part of me yearns for what must be the best whiskey in the city displayed there, I know I need a clear head. “No. I’m alright.”

He doesn’t respond as he pours himself a full glass. I watch the muscles in his back flex as he lifts it to his lips and drains half of it in one go. Maybe I’m not the only one who is feeling so affected right now.

Kieran tops off his drink before taking the seat closest to him, eyes sweeping out toward the mountain rage. “I heard Mika visited today.”

“She did.” I note the way the muscle in his jaw flexes. “We had a nice afternoon.”

It does it again, his grip tightening on the glass. His accent grows thicker with the emotion he’s trying to suppress. “That’s good.”

I don’t answer. I’m staring at him in confused silence, not completely comprehending why he looks so on edge all of a sudden. Kieran is not an easy man to understand, and it seems that he’s pretty awful at expressing any of it.

Did he not want me to like Mika? If that’s the case, why did he send her?

I decide to push him a little. I want answers, and he seems almost compliant for the time being. “Who is she to you?” It’s clear she is trying to be my friend, but I haven’t forgotten the interaction she had with the guard outside my room.

“A friend.” He takes a sip, his gaze still not meeting mine. His voice comes out even and measured, something it seems he’s working hard to maintain. “She and her husband are more like family.”

That makes sense from everything I was told. She clearly doesn’t fear any of them, and if he considers them family, then Mika must know Kieran would never allow anyone to hurt them.

I’m debating my next question when a familiar-looking man brings out two dishes. Kieran thanks him as he sets them down, and he offers me a soft smile before leaving.

It smells incredible, and I tug the food close to me. It itches at something else in the back of my mind, just like the patio did, but when I try to remember what, that dull throb starts up.

I decide not to push the memory, instead scooping up a bite from the plate. Out of the corner of my eye, Kieran starts eating, but I don’t yet. He’s been acting so odd, and I wonder if it was all a ploy to get me to stay for dinner.

It makes me suspicious of the food.

Trying to be discreet, I lift the fork to my mouth, but inhale deeply. It doesn’t smell off, but they probably have ways of drugging people that don’t have a scent⁠—

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not going to poison you,” he snaps, startling me.