Page 71 of Through the Water

“Music,” I answered easily. “My passion is music.”

His brows pulled together as he scratched his jaw. “Really? Why music?”

“It’s an escape,” I whispered, lifting my eyes to the netting above my bed. I wondered if it was the medicine making my tongue loose, or just a deep-seated need to connect with someone. “I can get lost in the lyrics, and for those three or four minutes, it’s like nothing else exists.”

Killian stayed silent, but I could tell he was thinking. “I feel like that, too,” he finally admitted. “With the game. When I’m out on the field, I can shut the world out until it’s just me and the ball. It’s a powerful feeling.”

I agreed with a nod. It was when the song ended that my power was stripped away from me again.

“So,” he murmured, tilting his head toward me. “Do you play an instrument or sing?”

“I’m a singer/songwriter.”

Killian’s eyebrow raised. “Really? Well, color me impressed. Anything I might have heard?”

He was fishing for information. Given that I knew who he was, it only made sense he’d want the same in return. Still, I needed to tread carefully to avoid giving too much away. The less he knew about the church and my father, the better.

“I don’t know. I doubt it,” I answered quietly. It was an honest answer, as Killian didn’t strike me as the type of person who spent a lot of time listening to Christian radio stations.

“Don’t want me to know about your platinum rap album, do you?” He joked, running his tongue over his teeth.

The idea of it made me laugh. I shook my head, gazing up at his face. “Well, now that you’ve solved that mystery, could we maybe pick one channel to watch, instead of all of them?”

“What? You don’t like this?”

I wrinkled my nose and joked, “You’re giving me motion sickness—wait. Go back to that last one.”

“What, this one?” He flipped the channel. “Haunted Places? You want to watch this?”

I nodded, refusing to make eye contact with the foot of the bed, halfway convinced I’d see the lingering images from the car wreck. It was terrible enough to relive it in my nightmares almost every night.

When I didn’t answer, Killian’s gaze shifted to me, and I barely resisted the urge to burrow into his side. “Do you—” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat before trying again. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He was quiet for several seconds before shaking his head. “No, I don’t. I mean, I don’t doubt that there are people who think they’ve seen ghosts, but it seems a little out there for me. Why—you believe in ghosts, girl?”

I chewed at the corner of my bottom lip with a small nod, lost to my memories. “I think that maybe I might. I’ve been having recurring nightmares since my car accident.” I shuddered, hugging myself as another chill descended over me. “There’s something wrong with the car, almost like it’s not under my control anymore, and I hear people talking. Sometimes, I don’t recognize the voices, but every now and then, I do—which is impossible, because that person is dead.”

“Christ, Ari,” Killian said softly, before pulling my body closer. His hand moved over my back in gentle circles, and I relaxed, feeling the drowsiness settling in. “It sounds like your brain just took two traumatic events and combined them into one, but I can understand why you might believe there was a supernatural explanation.”

I stayed silent with my cheek resting against his chest, watching as the paranormal team investigated a haunted movie theater. My pulse had just evened out when he spoke again.

“When I was sixteen, I was in an accident. Well, I don’t know that it was much of an accident. Another kid and I got into a fight and I cracked my head on the dock, falling into the lake—”

“What?” I asked, my voice strangled.

“Crazy, right? I remember falling and then coming to on the beach. I swore there was a girl there with me, but she was gone before I was fully conscious. My mama was convinced it was an angel.”

My body tensed as I lifted my head to study his features, suddenly seeing a very different sort of ghost altogether.

The brownie in my lap began slipping, but I couldn’t look away. Killian managed to catch the container before it landed on the bed and rolled over to place it on the small table. When he turned back, my breath caught. I wondered how I hadn’t seen it before now.

Long dark lashes and blue eyes that seemed almost gray against the sky…

My inability to stay away—to suppress my feelings—it was as if all the puzzle pieces had finally aligned. Killian was the boy from the lake. I blinked against the fog settling over my brain, struggling to fight the effects of the medicine meant to help me sleep.

I didn’t want to sleep.

I wanted answers. It was no longer coincidence that when I needed a sanctuary the most, I’d run right into the arms of a man whose name meant church. The very man whose life I saved ten years prior.

---