Never.
Killian watches me carefully, so stock-still that he almost appears like he isn’t breathing. His massive chest doesn’t move. Those intensely blue eyes don’t waver from mine, but I see fear swimming in them.
He has the answers.
And I need them.
Not being able to remember feels like floating lost in space with no tether to get me back to Earth. Spinning endlessly in a dark void. Spiraling out of control with no anchor to anything tangible. No lifeline. Except him.
Killian has always been my rock.
Even before we were together, the McBrides felt like home. He felt like home. A safe haven. The only person who could ever calm my fears and help me escape the turmoil in my life and head.
That’s what I need now.
I need him to do what he does best—take control and wipe away my uncertainty and confusion.
“Wh-what happened since the festival last year?”
Connor and Liam both shift nervously and give Killian a long, knowing look, then offer me tight smiles before they slip out of the room, leaving me alone with the doctor and the man I should be married to by now.
“Ms. May…” Dr. Sommers offers me a kind look and a pat on the hand, as if she can sense my rising panic and doesn’t want it to boil over. “It’s best if you just relax and rest right now. Don’t try to strain your body or mind. Give yourself the opportunity to heal. In the meantime, we’ll keep you comfortable when it comes to the pain, and you should be able to go home tomorrow.”
Home…
I let my gaze meet Killian’s again, but before I can ask him anything else about the massive gap in my memory, rushed, frantic footsteps pound down the hallway, and a blaze of blond hair flies through the door.
Familiar green eyes meet mine, filled with frantic concern.
Raven’s jaw drops. “Oh, my God, Willow!”
She rushes toward the bed and elbows Killian out of the way. The man twice her size, who absolutely could have stood his ground, knows better than to get between Raven and me after all these years. Especially when she gives him her don’t mess with me or you’ll regret it look.
Even I fear that one.
Raven throws her arms around me, and I wince as the pressure and movement pull at both the IV in my hand and at my damaged ribs.
She doesn’t seem to notice, just buries her face against my neck, wet tears hitting my skin. Her body trembles, and she squeezes me far too tightly, as if she can’t believe I’m really here, in her arms.
When she pulls back, she searches my face. “What the hell happened?”
Her accusatory gaze cuts to Killian.
He holds up his hands with a defensive scowl, his ice-hard glare carving through her like the blade of the axe he usually carries. “Don’t look at me like that. I found her like this in the river.”
Raven’s blond brows fly up. “The river?” Her focus slices back to me. “What the hell? Last I heard, you were in Charleston.”
Killian shifts his stance, angling himself closer to me, physically inserting himself between Raven and the bed, forcing her to retreat a step. “Charleston?”
What?
My confusion matches Killian’s.
I flick my gaze between their stare-down, trying to process what’s happening, but my drugged—and apparently damaged—brain can’t seem to grasp what they’re saying.
Even attempting to remember brings more agony.
“Why the hell was I in Charleston?”