Chapter 105

Despite how late it was, Killian took aftercare seriously, which was how I ended up in a hot bath listening to him play guitar as he sat on the bathroom floor next to me. The lavender of my nighttime bubble bath steamed in the air while I leaned over the side to stare at my husband. I was thoroughly fucked, my hair combed out and braided for me, gently washed head-to-toe, and left to melt in the comfort of it all. Every part of me was relaxed to the point that I was putty where I sat.

Killian, on the other hand, was wound up tight in his thoughts. Shirtless with a guitar in his hands was one of my favorite ways to see him. Usually, he enjoyed it, but he wasn’t. His strumming was muscle memory, and he was a million miles away from me.

“You’re doing it again,” I whispered. He made a small sound, glancing at me. I brushed a wet finger down between his brows. “You’ve got your thinking wrinkles.”

Whenever he was deep in his own thoughts, working out a puzzle, three wrinkles popped up between his brows. I adored them.

“Ah, those,” Killian replied. “Don’t worry about it, princess. This is about you.”

“This is about us,” I corrected. “Please. Don’t check out on me.”

He sighed, and I could see the way he debated doing just that. I silently prayed he wouldn’t.

“The lavender of your bubble bath reminds me of when I got fucking stabbed,” he said. I just nodded like I understood. I knew the scars on his body, and he’d shared a handful of his stories with me, but I had a feeling there was so much more to it. “Right before the Fall Games, I was supposed to do a snatch and grab—”

“It’s not really called that, is it?” I interrupted.

“No.” He chuckled. “It’s just what our unit got used to calling human bounties. They’re fucking easy to sweep up when you’re used to dealing with the real shit that can kill you. Though, there was a guy in Texas who gave me a hell of a run—you know what, I’ll save that story for another day.”

“Of course.” Because why not? “You got stabbed…”

Was this our life now?Just casual conversations of my husband getting stabbed? I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that.

“I got stabbed, Roan ate all my hospital jello, and honestly I didn’t fucking give any of it a second thought,” he continued. “Hell, cases always get reassigned when someone gets hurt, so I just had to fucking worry about seeing you again.”

“How does my bubble bath make you think of that?” I frowned.

“It was the hunter,” Killian said quietly. “I know who the hunter is.”

How a single sentence could so horrifically transform a mood was beyond me, but it did. I sank further into the water, suddenly cold.

“Why did he let you live?”

“She,” he corrected. “The hunter is a woman.”

“I want to make a joke about you having a problem with getting your ass kicked by women,” I commented before I could stop myself. He paused strumming to glare at me.

“I would’ve hit you when we were kids,” he retorted, “but Declan said I wasn’t allowed to.”

“I’ll make sure to thank him later.” I smiled slightly. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Ian.”

“I think…” he began with a sigh, “I think she let me live as fucking bait.”

I waited silently as he gathered his thoughts, his fingers dancing across his guitar mindlessly.

“I don’t fucking know what happened that night, Genevieve,” Killian said. “There’s… she used some kind of magic on me. Some of my fucking memories are coming back, but it’s not fucking enough. I just can’t shake this fucking feeling that she… that I fucking led her here. That somehow I did this to the fucking pack. That if I didn’t—”

“Stop that,” I interrupted. Swishing through the water, I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Screw the water. I wouldn’t let him spiral with the blame. “Don’t let your thoughts lie to you. You didn’t do this. She did.”

“It sure as fuck doesn’t feel that way, baby girl. I just…”

“You can’t say for certain that she wouldn’t be here if she’d killed you, Killian.” Even saying the words out loud hurt. “You can focus on what you do know, and what we can do about it.”

“I don’t know what that fucking is,” he snapped. “I have all these little pieces of fucking information, but I can’t make it make sense. I can’t fucking find her to end this.”

“Oh! What about a murder board?” I exclaimed and immediately clamped a hand over my mouth. What a horrible thing to say.

“Murder board?” He chuckled and strummed another series of notes lazily. “You’ve been watching too many crime shows, baby girl. Those things only exist in fiction shows. God, can you fucking imagine? Suspects could just waltz right into a fucking police station and get all the information they need. Fucking stupid.”

“Okay, well,” I laughed, “when you put it that way. Puzzle board?”

He cocked his head, and I caught the smirk on his face in the mirror.

“You know what I mean!” I exclaimed. “We need somewhere that we can look everything over—lay everything out so it’s easy to see.”

“We?” He rotated on the little bath rug to stare at me.

“You can’t build a murder board and not expect me to help.”

“I’d like you to stay the fuck out of it.”

“Fat chance.”

“I’m keeping you safe, Genevieve! You can’t fight this—”

“Fresh eyes,” I said. “I’m not asking to fight. My skills in playground brawls haven’t improved since we were kids. But I’m not like you. I don’t see things the way you see them. I can stare at a puzzle and see something that you might not.”

Killian stared at me as if he wasn’t convinced. I’d crack him. I wasn’t about to let him go through this alone. I’d help him as much as I could.