Page 80 of Wait For It

He wanted me, maybe just as badly as I found myself wanting him. The lusty little birds still fluttered around every time I saw him, but there was also a deeper sense of longing now—this innate need to be near him always.

Shrouding our friendship in secrecy had been a necessary, but almost unbearable evil. I tried to ignore Killian outside of my room, but there was something in him that called to me. Lately, I’d found myself missing him even when we were together.

And with that came the realization that I couldn’t run and hide forever. It was time to confront my monster. I wasn’t the obedient daughter who kept her head down and her mouth shut—that girl had died in the car wreck.

I was Killian’s, and that made me feel limitless.

Tristan wouldn’t agree—in fact, he might go as far as refusing me outright—but I wouldn’t back down.

Not this time.

“Where might I find this Killian?” he asked carefully, maybe fooling Tiffani with his concerned tone and disarming blinking. “I’d like to thank him personally.”

But I knew better.

Three lines meant trouble.

“He—” The tech swallowed, seemingly wilting under the weight of his stare. “He was released to go home, Pastor James. Like, it was a God thing that he just literally happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

Feeling Tristan’s eyes shift back to me, I arranged my expression into one of careless indifference, but inside I was reeling.

Gone.

Killian wouldn’t have just left without saying goodbye. Not after that kiss. Not before I had a chance to tell him who I was. He wouldn’t have left me behind unless there was a good reason—unless something had forced him to run.

The seizure.

I saw it clearly. My brain had finally understood my request and decided to release the memory from the vault. Until now, I thought sleep paralysis was the scariest thing I’d ever experienced, but this was worse.

This was a helplessness I hadn’t been able to wake myself from. Unable to cope with even the smallest sense of freedom, my body had become a cage.

And I was its captive.

My throat burned with rage that any God could be that cruel, leading me back to Killian, only to rip him away all over again.

“That’s a shame, isn’t it, Ariana?” Tristan’s hand tightened around mine. A warning.

“It’s a shame,” I repeated with a solemn nod, no longer caring whether or not he knew I could speak.

What was the point?

Nothing was ever going to change. My nightmare hadn’t just been a fractured memory of my car accident, but a premonition. I could run as hard and fast as I wanted, but I would always end up right back where I started—locked behind the same walls I’d known all my life.

“Brad was sure sorry he couldn’t be here when you woke up, but he’s handling a few things for me.”

I swallowed the bile in my throat and nodded. “Okay.”

“Have you given any thought as to when you’d like to set the date?” Tristan’s words were a knife stabbing into my flesh as if he needed the reassurance that I was truly dead this time.

I was.

The hope that had been blooming in my chest since finding Killian again shriveled into apathy.

“As soon as I’m well enough,” I mumbled, my words surprisingly steady despite the hurricane of emotions sweeping through my body. “No need for a lengthy engagement.”

I preferred a quick death.

Tristan’s wide eyes told me he hadn’t expected my response before he managed to slow-blink his way back onto neutral ground. “I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice. If I’d known you were talking, I would have—”

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