Page 51 of Firefly Effect

Moving to Bryson City, the location of the first Firefly Man murder, was supposed to inspire me so I could finally finish the allegory I began writing in college. Now it all just feels more complicated. Maybe I’m missing too many pieces of the puzzle.

I’m almost relieved when my phone lights up. I look down and see Evie’s name flash across the screen. In record time, I’ve read the text.

Evie: I’m outside your office. I saw your car.

I practically lunge out of my chair and run to jerk open the front door. Staring back at me is a fresh-faced Evie, glasses on over her beautiful blue eyes, wearing a black skirt and one of her favorite graphic shirts, this one burgundy. Her hair is wrapped up in a bun. Damn. She’s gorgeous.

“Is everything okay?” I take her hand and pull her inside before closing the door and locking it behind us.

She stands in the waiting room, looking anywhere but at me. “Everything is fine. I just…” She looks around as if to make sure she’s not interrupting anything. “Is it okay that I’m here? I know you were upset with me last week, but?—”

“Evie.” I take her hand. “I’m not upset with you.”

She locks eyes with me. “Okay.” Her shoulders appear to relax a little. “I needed to talk to you. About something from that night Carley died.”

An instant thunderstorm brews in my chest as I lead her into my office. I sit beside her on the leather couch, never letting go of her hand, and watch her for a moment, not wanting to break up whatever conversation she’s having in her mind.

“It’s been bothering me ever since Gabe brought it up, and I remembered what you said about repressed memories and how dangerous they can be.”

I squeeze her hand, letting her know she can slow down, that I’m here and she’s safe.

She takes a shaky breath and releases it before continuing. “Gabe started asking me about that night. About what happened after I left Carley and Foster to go get help. The detectives somehow figured out that an entire hour passed between me leaving the scene of the crime to when I found Patrick.”

I widen my eyes slightly, but I’m not surprised at all. I’ve read those files. I’ve seen those interviews. In all the research I’ve done, that’s a major piece of the puzzle that somehow got lost. Maybe I can help her locate it.

“I don’t know why it took me so long.” She stares off at nothing, shaking her head like she’s desperate to remember something, anything, to help fill in the gap. “I don’t think I would have gotten lost on my way to the campground. Unless I was just so devastated that I couldn’t find my way.”

I squeeze her hand again. “That’s possible.”

“Yeah, but unlikely.” She frowns. “I just… I don’t understand why I would have suppressed that part of the night, yet I can remember what Carley’s body looked like in Foster’s arms. And I don’t know why I care now, other than the guilt I feel.” She looks at me, tears gathering in her eyes. “What if whatever I’m forgetting is something that might help catch this psychopath? I could have stopped the killer a long time ago.”

“Hey,” I murmur. “None of this is your fault.” A spark of anger rises from deep down in my gut. Evie taking on guilt about killings she bears no responsibility for makes me want to destroy this monster. “If you want to remember, I can help you—but don’t force the memories. There’s a reason your mind wants you to forget. It’s protecting you from something.”

She turns to me, eyes brimming with tears. “Or someone.”

A chill prickles my skin. It’s not that I haven’t considered that the murderer could be someone Evie knows, but I hate that she’s come to that conclusion too. “Anything is possible, I suppose.” Frustration swirls alongside the anger. “What exactly did Gabe say to you?”

She frowns. “Just that I might be able to help them track down the killer once and for all. He wants to be the one who cracks this thing wide open.”

Annoyance swirls into the mix. Of course, Officer Gabe is looking for a promotion, so he’s willing to traumatize Evie to do it. “Interesting” is all I can mutter.

She faces me again, her gaze imploring. “You really think you can help me?”

Her pain is my pain, and my heart aches for what she’s going through. I nod, my eyes searching hers. “I do.”

Evie’s entire body starts to quiver, so in a move I would never make with a patient, let alone any other human, on this same couch, I wrap my arm around her waist and gently tug her toward me. “C’mere.”

She gives me such a helpless, desperate glance then moves toward me. She lets me guide her up onto my lap, her skirt bunching up with her legs on either side of mine. I fold her in my embrace, pulling her close until I feel her tension start to melt.

Relief seems to cascade over her entire body. I can see it in the way her shoulders loosen. I can feel it in the way her body relaxes on mine. I fucking love that I can do that for her.

“I’ve got you,” I say, the words filled with emotion.

She sighs into my neck, her body shifting on my lap enough to catch the attention of a certain appendage. “I’ve missed you,” she whispers.

My palms slide beneath her top and up the length of her slim back then down again. “I’ve missed you too.” I just want to touch her, to show her how much I care. I want to give her anything and everything she needs, now and forever.

Her head lifts just enough to bring her mouth to mine. She kisses me first, her lips soft and plush and needy, and I groan as she moves against me again, awakening me until I’m at full attention and pressing into her core.

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