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Cos snorts.
Did I mention I love her? She doesn’t say I should be serious as this is a serious matter, that I should act like it. She gets me. She gets that humor is my defense mechanism, my armor as I smash through the walls of my memory to something that apparently scared me shitless as a kid.
Justice…
“Obviously the body is real. And the location.” Gigi glares.
“All right, Sherlock. Answer me this: Are we really considering that I witnessed a murder as a child? “Did someone go missing those days? Do we have missing people in Destiny? Because we only assume that my dreams are real.”
“Merc.” Gigi looks like she’s about to cry again. “You saw something. I’m not crazy. You’ve been fighting that knowledge most of your life. You didn’t sleep well. Got sick too often. You can’t dismiss what happened.”
“I’m not. I’m not dismissing anything.” I huff, rub at my aching head. “So… Ross seemed interested in my mentioning a swan from my dream, huh?”
“Doesn’t he have a swan tattoo?” Octavia says.
“Ross?” I gape at her. “You shitting me, right? It just… doesn’t seem like Ross. Not macho enough.”
“Yeah, but what if the swan has a special significance for him?”
Yeah, what if?
Lots of what ifs in this story. But it does sound like I’ll have to talk to Ross again, sober this time. I’m so fucking pissed at the prospect.
And yet I know I should.
“I think,” I say, “I think I should go back to Destiny. Talk to Ross. Walk by the stream, see if anything comes back to me.”
“That’s a good idea,” Gigi says immediately. “I’m coming with you.”
No surprise there.
“We’re also coming,” Matt says before anyone else has a chance to speak up.
“We’re going,” Jarett says.
“I’ll come, too,” Mom pipes in.
My headache flares. “Now wait a minute…”
“I’m coming, too,” Cos whispers, slipping her hand over mine, on top of the table. Her mouth curves into a faint smile. “Let’s go find this body of yours.”
“You say the sexiest things,” I tell her, and her smile widens. “You don’t have to come on this wild goose chase, Cos.”
Although truth is, I’d really like her by my side, no matter the outcome.
“I love wild goose chases,” she whispers. “And I love you, so...”
I love you. She said that. To me.
Nothing else matters.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cosima
Sitting around the table with Merc’s family, discussing his dreams and the possibility of a murder that happened fifteen odd years ago is bizarre, but also bizarrely cozy and nice.
Makes me feel like a part of his family much more than the Sunday lunch I had with them what feels like ages ago. Maybe it’s because today everyone’s less concerned with appearances and still raw from the scare Merc put us through, focused on understanding what lies behind his nightmares.
