by L. K. Hill
She met his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “No one could prove it. They couldn't ID faces or voices on the file. But I know he did. I felt it. I still do.”
Gabe let his breath out slowly. The silence stretched as he processed what she’d said. The way she still trembled. The haunted look in her eyes.
“Look,” she scrubbed her hands across her face and leaned toward him, resting her folded arms on her thighs. He still sat back on his heels, but her face was inches above his. “I’m not saying he’ll show up here with a knife. It’s not his style. When he came to see me, he flat-out told me killing was too messy for him.” She sighed. “After they arrested him, they tied him to several murders. He wasn’t the one doing the actual killing. He’s the guy who drives the getaway car, or hires a hitman. I’m not afraid of him showing up here to hurt me. I’m afraid of him hiring someone—a professional—to kill the people trying to protect me. The guards.” She glanced toward the door. “You.”
“Don't make this about me, Kyra,” Gabe said sharply. “It’s about you.”
“Exactly,” she burst out. “It’s about me. Only me.” her voice grew thick with tears. “I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.” A tear escaped down each of her cheeks and she wiped at them angrily.
Her emotion caused moisture to spring into Gabe's eyes and he told himself to breathe.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you understand now, Gabe? No one can understand why I do such dangerous things. Why I don't trust anyone."
"The lack of trust I get," he said firmly. "But how did this make you braver? It would have the opposite effect on most people."
"It was a choice. I could have turned into a frightened introvert over it." She barked a laugh. "I guess I'm too rebellious. I wouldn't let him win. Instead, I vowed I'd never be afraid of a man again. Or a woman. Anyone. I know it doesn't negate danger. People can still hurt or kill me. The thing is, I don't care anymore. If Josie is going to beat me, or this killer is going to end to my life so be it. I still won't fear them."
"Gabe, the thing I've discovered is it gives me power. I don't have to tell you that I should have died many times in the Mire. I haven't. It's because I decided not to."
"Kyra—" Gabe shook his head.
"I know it's no guarantee, Gabe. I know it's not scientific or measurable, and it won't make you feel better about what I do. But I should have died when Chris ran me off the road. I was hurt badly enough for everyone to be shocked that I survived. I did because I chose to. I don't know why it works. Maybe it's up to God or the universe or something. I don't know. If I choose to live through this, I will. End of story."
Gabe stared up at her, digesting all she'd said. He could find no fault with it. After a moment, he nodded. "Okay."
She dropped her eyes.
"But Kyra?"
She met his gaze again.
"You're not alone this time around. We're with you. I'm with you. We'll catch Dunnworthy. You don't need to fear him."
She sniffed and nodded. "How will you do that?"
“We’ll move you to a new location. It will be strictly need-to-know.”
“He had an IA badge, Gabe. How far do you think ‘need-to-know’ will go?”
“Then you’ll come stay with me. No one needs to know. I’ll tell Shaun you disappeared into the Mire again. You’ll be there, and I’ll be there, and I’ll keep you safe.”
Her expression changed, and he couldn’t read it. It softened, but still looked more resigned than hopeful. “You have to work, Gabe. Do you honestly think no one will figure out what’s going on if you stop showing up to work and hide in your house all day? Besides, I have to go into the Mire tomorrow.”
Gabe sat back on his heels, anger rising in his chest. It felt cleaner than the emptiness that had hovered all day, so he embraced it. “You’re still going into the Mire? Now?”
She straightened her spine, pulling away from him, looking mildly surprised at his tone. “Tomorrow is three days. I need to go see Josie. See if I still have a job.” She studied her hands. “See if everything I’ve done so far to find Manny has been a waste.” Bitterness tinged her voice with the last sentence.
Gabe clenched his teeth together to keep from yelling more. In seconds, they ached.
When she noticed his expression, her shoulders slumped. “Chris doesn’t have the balls to follow me into the Mire, Gabe. I may actually be safer there than here. At least, safer from him.”
“So,” Gabe said through gritted teeth. “You’ll trade a crazy, abusive ex to go looking for a serial killer in the darkness?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m not looking for a serial killer, Gabe. I’m looking for Manny.”
“This guy attacked you in Old Abstreuse, Kyra. He got into your hotel room.”
She shook her head. “He attacked me because I found his hideout.”
“Which we've now stormed and cleaned out. He must be pissed at you.”
“He won’t know where to find me.”
He gave her his best don’t-be-stupid look and she immediately wilted.
“Okay, he found me before. Still, I’ll be with Josie. He can’t attack me when I’m around so many other people.”
“What if Josie fires you?”
“I’ll come straight back out of the Mire. I promise.”
Gabe clawed at his anger, desperately trying to muzzle it. He placed his hands on the bed, one to either side of her knees and dropped his head, studying the industrial carpet.
“I told you this before, Gabe,” she said gently. "That safe house or not, I needed to return to the Mire.”
"Why are you more affected by Chris than the killer in the Mire?"
She frowned, eyes sliding to one side, as if considering his question. "I…don't know. I guess," she hesitated, opening and closing her mouth several times before answering. As she spoke, she studied the ground furiously. "I guess it felt more personal with Chris. Whoever this killer is, he doesn't know me. I've certainly never kissed him."
Gabe ignored the green twinge in his gut.
"I never told him anything personal or had him meet my family."
Gabe wondered distantly what her parents were like.
"The killer's a vague, dark, evil bastard. But Chris betrayed—" Her voice broke.
Gabe leaned toward her, her vulnerability drawing him like a magnetic force.
"It's just…different."
He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to raise her eyes to his. “Couldn’t Chris hire a hit man to send after you in the Mire?”
She gave him a pained look, then turned her face away. Answer enough, he supposed. At least she'd run out of excuses.
Even as he thought it, she came up with half of one. “It doesn't feel like something he'd do." She raised a hand when Gabe opened his mouth to protest. “Of course, I can’t be sure. You’re right: he could.”
She scrubbed her hands over her face again, keeping them there this time. Her stance, shoulders hunched and hands covering her face, looked utterly vulnerable. He rose up on his knees, curving his shoulders around her, as though they would protect her, and peered down into the curve of her neck. His hands hovered above her shoulders.
“Don’t you understand, Gabe?” Her voice sounded muffled behind her hands. She dropped them and spoke into his shoulder. “If I go into the Mire, I might be killed. If I stay here, I might be killed, and so could you and anyone else near me. Manny’s always in danger. Always. If I do nothing, he’ll die. Sooner or later. This life will kill him. If I do something, I could die. So could he. I might meet a serial killer. Or someone sent by Chris. Or Chris himself.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I have no good options.”
"You could give it up," Gabe said quietly. "Leave the Mire entirely. Stop this search."
She leaned forward another inch. Their noses were a hairsbreadth from touching. “I need to move forward. Sitting in a hotel room indefinitely, praying nothing happens…” she dropped her gaze and s
hook her head. “It's not hopeful. I’d be insane in a matter of days.” She met his eyes again. “I have to do something.”
Gabe leaned back onto his heels. He couldn't blame her. He refused to sit by and let someone else look into Dillon’s case. It would drive him mad. He and Kyra were the same in this way. Only action kept the madness at bay.
She still looked haunted. And exhausted.
She straightened her spine. He saw her pushing her vulnerability away. “I’ll go into the Mire and look for Manny.” Her voice still sounded quiet, but more confident now. “And you’ll look for Chris.” She gazed down at him, and the vulnerability returned, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I need you to find him, Gabe.”
The emptiness returned, heavier than ever. Gabe nodded. “Okay.”
She dropped her gaze to her hands, clasped in her lap. No matter how tranquil her face appeared, he could tell she warred with her emotions. She breathed more deeply than usual, for sitting still. Her hands, tightly clasped together, shook in her lap, as if to hide the trembling of her shoulders.
“Kyra,” he put a hand on her knee. She’d crossed her knees after he led her back to the bed. A defensive gesture. Putting up walls around herself. “What can I do?”
She shrugged. “You’re already doing it. Find Chris. Take my hand, if I call.”
“You know I will,” he said dismissively. Then more firmly. “Always. I meant, what can I do for you?”
She frowned at first, then looked away. He waited, thinking she’d speak. She didn’t.
Instead she uncrossed her knees and slid into his lap, digging her arms under his and wrapping them around his chest. Her kneeling legs straddled his.
She held him tighter than he would have thought possible in her exhausted state. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling relief at having her in his embrace. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered into her hair.
She pulled back enough to look up at him, her face dry, her eyes still haunted. He wanted to kiss her so bad it hurt. He stared down at her. Both of them breathed deeply, matching one another.
Kyra stretched up and pressed her lips softly against his. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her back, a soft, lingering kiss. It ended a moment later. Much too quickly. It wasn’t nearly enough.
He kissed her again, more deeply, parting her lips with his tongue. She took her arms from under his and coiled them around his neck. He pulled her body more firmly against his, sandwiching the two of them together. His lips left hers and kissed tiny trails down her neck. Burying his face in her shoulder, he leaned forward onto both knees and one palm, holding her against his abdomen with the other arm. Kyra wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him, not touching the ground. He laid her down gently on the carpet and found her mouth with his again. A soft, whimpering sound of pleasure came from somewhere deep in her throat, spurring him on.
He ran one hand down her right thigh, over her snug jeans, then back up. Both hands traced her hips, sides, thumbs pressing their way across her underarms, farther, pushing her arms up, above her head. Holding them there gently, he kissed her ear and neck and upper chest, while she made panting, breathy noises.
Gabe’s phone rang.
He froze. With a groan, let the tension in his arms and shoulder release, resting his face on her shoulder again before pushing up onto his palms. Her face lay inches beneath his.
“It’ll be Shaun, to tell me what he found. We weren’t sure Dunnworthy wouldn’t come straight here from the precinct. If I don’t answer, he'll think something’s wrong.”
She nodded.
He sat up onto his knees and resentfully dug his phone from his pocket. Sure enough, Shaun’s name blinked cheerfully on the screen. He fought the urge to throw it against the wall.
Kyra pulled one knee into her chest and rolled to the side so she no longer straddled him. She dragged herself into a sitting position, back against the nearest bed, and wrapped her arms around her knees, looking self-conscious.
Gabe slid the answer bar across the screen. “Yeah,” he snapped into the phone.
“Gabe?” Shaun’s deep voice came through clearly. “We found the address. We’re here.”
“And?”
“He's not here. Looks like he was, though. Left in a hurry. Everything okay there?”
Gabe glanced at Kyra. Her head dropped glumly after Shaun’s words, which she’d obviously heard in the quiet of the room. “Everything’s fine here.”
“We still have the APB, and lots of people looking,” Shaun said, sounding frustrated. “He knows we're onto him. I don’t expect him to resurface, Gabe. He’d be an absolute moron.”
Gabe sighed. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “He would. Shaun, I want to stay here with Kyra tonight. Make sure Dunnworthy doesn’t try any desperate, last-ditch efforts before leaving town.”
“That’s fine,” Shaun said. “I was going to suggest it myself.”
After hanging up, Gabe moved to sit beside Kyra beside the bed, adopting her stance. She glanced up at him, looking lonely. Gabe put an arm around her tense, hunched shoulders. After a moment, she relaxed and leaned against him. He put his other arm around her and pulled her into his lap.
“It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out,” he said softly.
She nodded against his chest.
He felt doubt rolling off her, and pulled her more tightly against him. Once again, she simply didn’t believe him.
Chapter 18
Kyra's eyes fluttered open the next morning, memories of the previous night immediately flooding in. She moved slightly, shifting her head and shoulders to one side. Gabe lay atop the coverlet, fully dressed with arms wrapped around her torso and head resting against her back. Kyra found herself reluctant to move. Being wrapped up in Gabe's arms was pleasant, even if her left arm was sleep from having laid on it for so long. Plus, she really had to pee.
She'd slept fully clothed as well. Eventually she'd fallen asleep against Gabe's chest, and he'd lifted and carried her to the bed, gently tugging the coverlet from underneath her and pulling it up around her.
She'd grabbed his hand before he could straighten. "Stay?" She already knew he'd planned to stay the night, but the day had been so desolating that she needed his presence closer than the chair across the room, or even the second bed. She hadn't had to say that, though. Gabe, seeming to understand, had merely nodded and lay down on the bed next to her. Sometime in the night, his arms slid around her, and she didn't think she'd moved again all night.
Now she slid carefully out of his arms and tiptoed into the bathroom to take care of business. After washing her hands, she cleared away some makeup residue that had pooled beneath her eyes and ran a brush through her hair.
When she emerged, Gabe sat up with his legs swung over the side of the bed, rubbing his face.
"Hey," he said, turning to her when she came out.
"Hey," she answered quietly, feeling awkward.
"Shaun texted," he held up his phone. "I need to head into the precinct."
She nodded. "Okay. Remember I'm going into the Mire to see Josie tonight."
There was no rebellion or anger or even fear in his face. Just resignation. He nodded. "I'll get it all arranged," his eyes cut toward the door.
Code for he'd make sure the guard outside knew she'd be leaving dressed like a junkie and could pretend not to notice.
He stood and crossed the room to her. "I'll text you as soon as I know anything." He bent and kissed her, burying his face in her shoulder. She felt a pang of regret when he let go and pulled back, kissing her gently between the eyes. "I'll talk to you soon."
She nodded, and he slipped out the door.
Kyra showered and spent the day looking at things at home: her business, her website, messages from family members. Not that she absorbed much of it. She kept finding herself staring into space, reliving memories of the previous night, wondering if Gabe would stay the night with her again. She must have read the same emai
l fifty times before giving up on what it said. And she checked her phone every ten minutes to see if Gabe had texted. After a while, she flopped back on the bed, berating herself for acting like a teenager. Then Gabe did text, and she knew she had no hope of getting any work done.
Gabe messaged several times throughout the day. Once to tell her the guard would be in the loop when she left, and they would have a guard there around the clock, at least for a few days, so if she needed help, she only needed to reach the hotel.
Another time, he told her he had no update on Chris, and another time he simply asked how she was doing. She texted him an hour before leaving the hotel for the Mire.
Be careful, Kyra, he’d texted back. Let me know where you are asap.
I will, she’d promised.
After darkness fell that evening, and Kyra had successfully applied all her Supra makeup, she texted Gabe again. Heading out. Will check in soon.
He didn't respond.
Kyra approached Josie’s residence with trepidation. His guards watched her approach, keeping their eyes on her during her entire walk to the front door, but didn't move to stop her. She tried to take it as a good sign.
It felt strange to be in her Supra getup again. More than a week had passed since the last time she’d worn it. The longest lapse since she’d come to Abstreuse.
Josie appeared in the doorway, his waist-long dreadlocks swinging. Kyra swore she saw a flash of triumph in his face before his lips twisted as though he tasted sour milk.
“So,” he intoned. “De prodigal bitch returns.”
Kyra ignored the dig. “Are we good?”
Josie stepped out onto the stoop. “Normally, I would not allow your return,” he said. “But I have urgent work to do tonight. Need all de help I can get. Do not,” he thrust an index finger toward her nose, “screw up again.”
She nodded.
“You will run a message for me,” he waved his hand at her dismissively. “To de house on B street.”
Kyra frowned when he didn’t go on. “Okay. What else?”
His head snapped toward her. “Isn’t dat enough?”
