“You look different.”
I stopped. “So do you.”
Through the darkness, I caught how the side of his mouth lifted into a half-grin. It moved back down, and he stepped closer to me. He was looking down at me. There was still space between us. I couldn’t feel his body heat. Another person could’ve wedged their way between us.
“Why did you come see me? How did you even know where I was? Or recognize me?” There. Finally, I was sounding like an adult. There was the golden question that I wanted answered.
He didn’t answer.
He continued to study me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt his scrutiny.
“To make sure you were all right. I hired a private detective, and I helped him out. I thought you might be going here. I remembered one of your speeches in school was about how much you loved this school, and I knew it was you.”
I was stunned. “Really?” He remembered that? And he just knew it was me? How do I digest all of that?
“And to let you know that you don’t need to be scared of me.” His voice softened, and he closed the distance.
I could feel his body heat, and I could make out his face. Those eyes, I gulped again, I’d forgotten the power they had in the courtroom. He was looking into me, like only he could read my thoughts, know my feelings, and understand me. He knew me. That was how I was feeling again. A sense of feeling sheltered flowed through me. It pushed out the fear and coldness. I was beginning to grow warm, wanting to close the distance.
I never touched him before.
Not a hug. Not a handshake. Nothing.
Well, that wasn’t true. He gave me his shirt after killing Edmund. Mine ripped, so he lent me his. I never gave it back. It was a secret that I never shared with anyone. That shirt was still in my room, in the same box as my Taser. The irony wasn’t lost on me. One keepsake from him next to a weapon to use against him.
He kept going, “My parents and my lawyers don’t want me anywhere around you, but I had to come. I needed to make sure that you knew not to be scared of me. I…what I did, I know it was shocking. I shocked myself. I still don’t quite know what happened. I remember what I did. I remember doing it, but before it happened and the events leading up to it, those are still a blur, even after two years.”
Hearing him now, I was surprised. The lawyers hadn’t let him take the stand.
“I’ve seen doctors who told me that my brain doesn’t want to feel whatever I was feeling before it happened. I remember hearing you and opening the door. Then it’s blank. I-I just don’t want you to be scared of me. That’s all.”
I was right back in that room, not on the roof with Kian.
Edmund’s hands were on me again. Then the door opened…
I began to back away again. “I can’t.”
Edmund had one hand around my throat.
“Jordan.” Kian reached for me.
“No, I can’t do this. I’m sorry. It’s—I’m feeling him again, Kian.”
I knew it was Kian. I knew he was there, telling me not to be scared, but I wasn’t feeling it was him. The flashbacks were too much, and they were coming in at breakneck speed. I couldn’t handle all of them, not all at once.
I shook my head, and my back hit the door. I reached behind and felt for the door handle, then moved around the door. The back of my legs hit the boulder.
I started to fall backward, but Kian caught me. He lifted me and held me to him for a second. I felt him kicking at something, and then he set me back down. He had moved the rock out of the way. And he was holding the door open, so it wouldn’t hit me.
“Okay,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you before…” He hesitated. He was raking over my face. “Never mind. I didn’t intend for this. I’m sorry, Jordan.”
“It’s Jo,” I murmured. “I’m using the name Joslyn.”
“That’s right.” A resigned sigh slipped from his lips. He looked haunted. “Go ahead. I’ll wait and make my way from the roof. I am sorry. I didn’t realize my presence would bring all those memories back. I never intended for that.”
He sounded in pain, and for a second, I stopped.
Everything was pushed aside for a split second, and I could clearly see him. He felt bad, but I still felt danger lurking from him. The image of him, right before he had taken a knife to Edmund’s throat, was in the back of my mind.
I wanted to leave. I wanted to stay. “Thank you for coming.”
He nodded, his face becoming a mask. “You don’t have to be scared of me, and I know what your FBI agent thinks. My team won’t blame you. I’ll go back on trial, and I know what he’s said to you. None of it is true. You were the victim. I wouldn’t let them victimize you again.”
“You know?”
He nodded again. “I know that you’re hiding, and I understand why. The media would crucify you.”
“I couldn’t have a normal life again.”
“I know. I do. That’s why I disappeared that first time on the street. Your boyfriend, or whoever he is, would’ve seen me. I…” He paused and glanced away for a second. “I think I just wanted to talk to you for me. I needed to reassure myself that you weren’t scared of me.”
“Never.”
His gaze jerked back to mine, and I was caught, once again held by him. Something deeper was happening between us, but I couldn’t name it. I didn’t think I even wanted to. If I did, I’d have to make a decision to let it happen or stop it completely. I didn’t want to do either of those things, so I let it go. I silenced the voice second-guessing everything in my head. He had killed to protect me. I needed to be grateful, and that was it.