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“She’ll live,” he assures me. “I have a friend watching her right now.”
“Can you just let her go back home?” I ask.
“Yeah. When I’m good and ready to.”
“I meant now.”
“Oh. Then, no.”
I sigh, absently hugging myself. “Is she—?”
Killian seldom interrupts me, but he does this time. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. I told you I’d handle it. You knew I’d do it the way I saw fit. Now the score’s been settled to my satisfaction. He’ll hold her for a couple of days, then he’ll take her back home. She’ll be fine. You were fine, weren’t you? She wasn’t worried about you.”
It’s definitely strange to be talking about my sister’s kidnapping that I know he coordinated, and I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t want her to be kidnapped, but I know there’s little use arguing with him about it.
That’s so fucked up.
These are extremely depraved circumstances to be seeing him under, but I guess when aren’t the circumstances depraved with us?
I swallow. “I texted you. When you didn’t answer, I got worried.”
A glint comes into his pretty blue eyes and he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Oh, yeah?”
I sigh with annoyance, but I can’t entirely stifle my smile. “You didn’t text me yesterday either, so I thought… maybe something happened.”
“I didn’t take my phone with me. I had a burner, but I left my actual phone home so I couldn’t be traced to your hometown when I had no reason to be there and a crime connected to you was going down. They can check that, see if your phone pings on the local towers. Not that I plan to get caught, but…”
“Got it.”
He nods, his gaze drifting to my lips and unleashing a swarm of butterflies in my stomach.
Absently grabbing my bag’s shoulder strap, I tell him, “Well, I was just about to leave. I have a final, so…”
“Wouldn’t want you to be late for that.”
I shake my head.
I hate this, and I love it at the same time.
I love him being in my apartment. I hate feeling… everything I’m feeling.
I need a constant supply of Tums when I’m around this man, I swear.
Killian walks me out and checks to make sure the door is locked behind us, then he walks me to my car.
I slide in and look up at him, and my stupid heart memorizes the way he looks looking down at me.
“Goodbye, Killian,” I say softly.
He doesn’t say it back, just watches me pull my door closed and settle my bag in the seat next to me.
Finally, he turns and walks back to his own car.
He backs down the road enough for me to pull out and leave ahead of him. I keep an eye on the rearview mirror since he’s following me, but at a certain point, he turns and goes his own way.
It makes me immeasurably sad.
Because I wish I could go wherever he’s going, always.
