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Kai is currently flicking through the photo album while wearing a latex glove. Meanwhile, I couldn’t even look at the photos without feeling sick to my stomach. Every picture captures a moment that has now been tainted and ruined. A fine film of grime coats each one, souring the memory.
It adds a new sense of reality to all of this and makes me realize just how profound Mel’s obsession is. She didn’t simply wake up one day and decide to kill Richard and claim me as her own. This… infatuation has been building for years. Since the first day we met. She’s harbored these feelings, stoked them, and built them up to be something I can never compete with.
Unexpectedly, I find myself wondering if this is somehowmyfault. Did I miss the signs that she was into me? Did I somehow lead her on with the way I behaved and acted around her?
I didn’t behave any differently than how I would around Hadley, though is it possible that my general friendliness comes off as flirty and Hadley just never noticed? I mean, something I did must have drawn Mel to me and made her believe she had a chance. I had to have said or done something to instigate all of this.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice that Wilder has rounded the kitchen island until his fingers are digging into my cheeks, as he directs my head back until I’m staring into the swirling vortex of his dark umber eyes. I’ve never noticed the gray flecks in them before. They look like ice chips, only adding to Wilder’s chilling effect.
“What were you just thinking?” he snarls.
I meet his anger with pursed lips, not having realized just how closely he was watching me.
In response, his force turns bruising as he pulls me toward him. My jaw begins to pulse from the pressure, my eyes flaring with pain.
He brings his face within an inch of mine. So close I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. “Tell me what was just going through that pretty little head of yours,Angel.” His voice is so low it sounds almost demonic.
I meet his eyes for another few seconds before I cave, dropping my gaze as I force out through squished lips, “It’s my fault.”
With his hand still wrapped around my jaw, he pushes me away. I stumble against the island as he turns away from me with a rabid snarl. I watch him warily as he storms across to the other side of the kitchen, confused by his outburst.
“None of this is your fault, Emilia,” Kai says softly, drawing my attention to him.
Not agreeing, I shake my head as I pick up the letter and wave it. “All these memories she’s talking about. They mean something to her. Something different than what they meant to me. The only reason that could be is if I made her view them differently.”
Dropping the letter, my eyes land on the photo album, open on a photo of us at a football game at Halston. We’re dressed in Halston school colors of black and gold, with streaks on our cheeks and broad grins that reach our eyes.
“I had to have said or done something to make her think there was more between us than friendship. I had to have led her on in some way, made her believe there was a possibility ofus.”
This time, it’s Hawk’s turn to storm toward me. However, his touch is much more gentle—although still firm—as he lifts my chin.
“You didn’t say or doanythingwrong, Sparrow.” He holds my gaze, his gray eyes boring into mine as if he can dig deep enough, then he can bury the sentiment in my soul and force it to take root until it eradicates all of my doubts. “You are not to blame for some psycho bitch misinterpreting a friendly hello or deciding that because you smiled at her you’re obviously meant to be together.”
“This woman is obsessed with you, Emilia,” Kai states. Although Hawk doesn’t release me from his hold, so I can’t turn to look at him. “Obsessions are, by definition, irrational. They don’t require a solid foundation; they don’t make logical sense. They just are.
“It probably took root the second she laid eyes on you, before you even so much as uttered a word to her, and escalated from there. There was no one thing you said or did that triggered this. She interpreted every interaction between you in a way that suited her. Saw whatever it was she wanted to see; believed whatshewanted to believe.
“Short of being cold toward her or blatantly telling her to get lost, there’s nothing you could have done to change the outcome.”
“And if you had rebuffed her, she probably would have stabbed you in your sleep,” Wilder unhelpfully tacks on, still looking like he’s one wrong word away from exploding.
Kai doesn’t disagree, so I’m assuming that would have been a very real—and terrifying—possibility.Yikes.
Hawk continues to hold me hostage until he sees I understand what Kai’s saying. Only then does he release his hold, lightly stroking his thumb along my cheek before dropping his hand and turning away.
Without him obscuring my entire field of vision, I find Kai no longer analyzing the photo album but rather watching me closely, his lips pressed in a tight line and concern etching his face. When he catches me looking, he glances away.
Sighing, I gesture toward the letter and photo album. “Then what is the point of all this? What is she trying to communicate?”
“I think she’s wooing you,” Kai answers, his voice as clinical as ever.
“Wooingme?” I question with a raised brow.
“Who the fuck says wooing anymore, man?” Wilder interjects with rolled eyes.
We all ignore him.
“What makes you think that?” I ask Kai.
