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“I would’ve hit you when we were kids,” he retorted, “but Declan said I wasn’t allowed to.”
“I’ll make sure to thank him later.” I smiled slightly. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Ian.”
“I think…” he began with a sigh, “I think she let me live as fucking bait.”
I waited silently as he gathered his thoughts, his fingers dancing across his guitar mindlessly.
“I don’t fucking know what happened that night, Genevieve,” Killian said. “There’s… she used some kind of magic on me. Some of my fucking memories are coming back, but it’s not fucking enough. I just can’t shake this fucking feeling that she… that I fucking led her here. That somehow I did this to the fucking pack. That if I didn’t—”
“Stop that,” I interrupted. Swishing through the water, I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Screw the water. I wouldn’t let him spiral with the blame. “Don’t let your thoughts lie to you. You didn’t do this. She did.”
“It sure as fuck doesn’t feel that way, baby girl. I just…”
“You can’t say for certain that she wouldn’t be here if she’d killed you, Killian.” Even saying the words out loud hurt. “You can focus on what you do know, and what we can do about it.”
“I don’t know what that fucking is,” he snapped. “I have all these little pieces of fucking information, but I can’t make it make sense. I can’t fucking find her to end this.”
“Oh! What about a murder board?” I exclaimed and immediately clamped a hand over my mouth. What a horrible thing to say.
“Murder board?” He chuckled and strummed another series of notes lazily. “You’ve been watching too many crime shows, baby girl. Those things only exist in fiction shows. God, can you fucking imagine? Suspects could just waltz right into a fucking police station and get all the information they need. Fucking stupid.”
“Okay, well,” I laughed, “when you put it that way. Puzzle board?”
He cocked his head, and I caught the smirk on his face in the mirror.
“You know what I mean!” I exclaimed. “We need somewhere that we can look everything over—lay everything out so it’s easy to see.”
“We?” He rotated on the little bath rug to stare at me.
“You can’t build a murder board and not expect me to help.”
“I’d like you to stay the fuck out of it.”
“Fat chance.”
“I’m keeping you safe, Genevieve! You can’t fight this—”
“Fresh eyes,” I said. “I’m not asking to fight. My skills in playground brawls haven’t improved since we were kids. But I’m not like you. I don’t see things the way you see them. I can stare at a puzzle and see something that you might not.”
Killian stared at me as if he wasn’t convinced. I’d crack him. I wasn’t about to let him go through this alone. I’d help him as much as I could.
Chapter 106
Killian
Iwas fucking exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. The thoughts in my head were so fucking riled up after my small conversation in the bathroom with Genevieve that while she slept, I counted facts. While she snored softly, I replayed events in my head. And when the sun fucking rose, I got up because what the fuck was the point of pretending I’d fall asleep.
Instead, I went for a long jog that ended at the food mart in town. The coffee was cheap and crappy, but it was hot as I wandered down the aisles. The morning crowd was scarce, and even the cashier—some high school kid—was half asleep at the register.
While I wandered aimlessly, I texted Roan. The fucker was in town because of me, the least I could do was make sure he had whatever the fuck he needed. Within reason.
Do you need anything?
Honestly, he probably wouldn’t even fucking answer. It was early as shit for him.
ROAN: Awww… you thinking about me, book thing?
ROAN: Fucking autocorrect. That should say boo thank.
