Page 118 of Through the Water

Killian closed his eyes for a brief second before lowering his gaze back to mine. “You need to talk, but you can’t do it here. So, I’m going to take you somewhere you can.”

I nodded and followed him inside the elevator, not missing the way his jaw flexed and tightened as he scanned his badge. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the railing, studying me with a sober expression. “It’s your dad, isn’t it? He won’t let you be with someone like me.”

I winced. If a breaking heart had a sound, it would be Killian’s voice at this moment. “It’s complicated.”

You see, it’s kind of a funny story, but my father sold me to his best friend so he can expand his ministry. Hilarious, right?

“My dad and I didn’t see eye to eye on much of anything for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “We’re both pretty damn hardheaded, so naturally, we avoided taking any responsibility for the way things were. We wasted years fighting over the same old shit instead of sitting down to hash things out like adults.”

“And now?” It surprised me, as his father was typically a subject he tried to avoid at all costs.

Killian tilted his head to the side and cracked his neck, seemingly avoiding making direct eye contact with me. “Well, we finally put our egos aside long enough to talk. Figure we’ve still a long way to go, but we’re both willing to work on it.”

“Maybe I could do the same with your father.” He cleared his throat and lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Sit down with him one-on-one, let him get to know me.”

I swallowed; my mouth suddenly dry. It would have been perfect had my father been anyone other than Tristan James. As it was, Killian could have been a saint. It wouldn’t have mattered. The money had already changed hands.

“What do you think?” His expression was earnest as it searched my face, and I had to look away. It hurt too much.

“Yeah, that could work,” I lied, forcing a smile. Inside, though, I was already grieving the loss of Killian. There was no scenario where either of us got what we wanted. With that, a dark cloud settled over me, tainting what should have been the happiest day of my life.

The elevator announced our arrival with a cheerful ding, but a storm was brewing in my head. Killian reached out to hold the doors open, and I shook myself from my thoughts long enough to follow him.

“Hey,” he murmured against my temple, draping an arm around my shoulders. “We’ll get through this. You’re not going to lose me, okay?”

My eyes welled up, but I set my jaw, blinking until my vision cleared.

A gray-haired security guard approached with a small wave. “You two kids all finished?”

Killian responded with an enthusiastic nod. “I think she saw it all, Pete. Hey, how’s Nat doing?”

“Oh, much better, Mr. Reed,” he responded as he unlocked the door. “They’re saying she’ll be back to a hundred percent soon.”

“Glad to hear it.” Killian turned his attention to me. “His daughter, Natalie, plays college softball up in Nebraska. During one of their practices, she fractured her non-pitching wrist sliding into home.”

“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

Pete playfully elbowed him. “Don’t let this guy fool you. He tracked down a trainer from one of the minor league teams up there—paid for the whole thing himself too—”

“Alright, Pete.” Killian clapped him on the shoulder with a strained smile. “You have really gotta stop drinking on the job, man. You’re talking complete nonsense.”

“What?” The guard shrugged. “I know a good one when I see one, kid.”

I did too, which was probably why it felt like there was a vice around my chest. Killian was the man I’d dreamt about since I was a little girl—the standard against which I’d measured everyone else.

The media cared about the uniform, completely unaware of the good and kind heart beating underneath. And I would never deserve him.

“Excuse me,” I said flatly, no longer recognizing the sound of my own voice. The glass was cold beneath my palms as I pushed the door open and ran toward the parking lot.

The wind caught my hair, tossing it against my face with stinging slaps, but I just pulled Tsega’s jacket tighter around my body and kept going.

I never should have stopped running.

I never should have let myself believe I could be happy. I’d never been anything more than an escaped convict on borrowed time. A prisoner who lacked the courage to fight back. I may have regained my voice, but it was just as small as ever.

Lightning forked through the clouds, closely followed by a booming clap of thunder that seemed to shake the ground.

“Ari!” Killian roared over the impending storm. “Ari—wait!”

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