A killer who was still out there. A killer who not even a psychotic, obsessive FBI agent had been able to find. Since joining the program, Id gained and lost a mentor and seen my mothers only other living relative shot dead. Id helped take down a killer whod been recreating my mothers death for yearsbut I was still no closer to finding the monster whod actually killed her. I might never get answers.
They might never find her body.
Well? Lia had done a good impression of a patient person, but clearly, her capacity for waiting for me to reply had been stretched to its limit and then some. Are you in or are you out?
Im not going anywhere, I said. Im in this, but Im keeping the lipstick.
Rawrrrrr. Lia made a scratching motion. Somebodys finally growing claws.
Yeah, I said dryly. I love you, too.
I turned around to walk into the house, but Lias voice stopped me halfway there.
Im not saying I like you. Im not saying Im going to stop eating your ice cream or stealing your clothes, and Im certainly not saying that I wont make your life a living nightmare if you jerk Dean around, but I wouldnt want you to leave. Lia strode past me, then turned around and flashed me a smile. You make things interesting. And besides, Im kind of into the idea of Michaels war wounds, and having my way with him will be that much sweeter knowing youre right down the hall.
Lia flounced back into the house. I thought of the scars Michael would have once hed healed, thought of the kiss, the fact that hed almost died for meand then I thought of Dean.
Dean, who hadnt forgiven himself for not being able to pull the trigger.
Dean, whose father was as much of a monster as my aunt.
Weeks ago, Lia had told me that every person in this house was fundamentally screwed up to the depths of our dark and shadowy souls. We all had our crosses to bear. We saw things that other people didntthings that people our age should never have to see.
Dean would never just be a boy. Hed always be the serial killers son. Michael would always be the person whod put a round of bullets in my aunt. And part of me would never leave my mothers blood-soaked dressing room, just like another part would always be at the safe house, with Lacey and her knife.
We would never be like other people.
I dont know what the back door did to you, an amused voice told me, but Im sure its really, truly sorry.
Michael was supposed to be using a wheelchair, but he was already trying to maneuver on crutchesan impossible feat, considering a bullet had also been lodged in his shoulder.
Im not glaring at the back door, I said.
Michael raised one eyebrow, higher and higher until I caved.
Fine, I said. I might have been glaring at the back door. I dont want to talk about it.
Like you didnt want to talk about that kiss? Michaels voice was light, but this was the first time either of us had brought up that moment in my bedroom.
Michael
Dont. He stopped me. If I hadnt been so jealous of Dean, I wouldnt have bought your little story for a second. Even as it was, I didnt buy it for much longer than that.
You came after me, I said.
Ill always come after you, he said, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made the words seem like more of a joke than a promise.
Something told me it was both.
But you and Redding have something. I dont know what it is. I dont blame you for it. On crutches, he couldnt lean toward me. He couldnt reach out and brush the hair out of my face. But something about the curve of his lips was more intimate than any touch. A lot has happened. You have a lot to figure out. I can be a patient man, Colorado. A devastatingly handsome, roguishly scarred, heartbreakingly courageous, patient man.
I rolled my eyes, but couldnt bite back a smile.
So take whatever time you need. Figure out how you feel. Figure out if Dean makes you feel the way I do, if hell ever let you in, and if you want him to, because the next time my lips touch yours, the next time your hands are buried in my hairthe only person youre going to be thinking about is me.
I stood there, looking at Michael and wondering how it was possible that I could instinctively understand other people their personalities, their beliefs, their desiresbut that when it came to what I wanted, I was just like anyone else, muddled and confused and stumbling through.
I didnt know what it meant that my aunt had been a killer, or how I felt about the fact that she was dead.
I didnt know who had killed my mother, or what losing her and never getting any closure had done to me. I didnt know if I was capable of really letting someone else in. I didnt know if I could fall in love.
I didnt know what I wanted or who I wanted to be with.
But standing there, looking at Michael, the one thing I did know, the way I always knew things about other people, was that sooner or later, as a part of this programa part of this team I was going to find out.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
She is now a professor of psychology.
You can find her online at www.jenniferlynnbarnes.com and www.jenniferlynnbarnes.tumblr.com