“We’re fine right here.” I bob my head.
“Jax!” Kira suddenly finds her voice from behind me.
“I said we’re fine,” I repeat. “Why don’t you go make us some dinner?” I turn my back on Layton and cut her with a verysoberlook.
Her jaw works before she hisses through her teeth. “Iwouldbut you spent the grocery money onbooze.”
She’s angry. But at least she’s playing along. Though, I’m not sure why she would if she’s the one that called the authorities.
“Actually,” Layton says, “if you’re both residents here, I would like to speak with both of you.”
A resident here? Curious now, I slowly turn back to the detective.
Pulling out a pad and pen, he asks, “Do either of you know a Marshal Wayne?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kira
Iknew it was coming, but my whole world tilts all the same as the detective asks about Marshal. My breath catches in my throat, the air turning to lead in my lungs. I don’t know where the fuck Jax came from, but I’m humbled by my hands as they latch onto the back of his shirt, shamelessly grateful for the wall of muscle between me and the detective.
I knew the shoe was going to drop. I knew it. I just didn’t think it would be today.
“Uh,” I mumble pathetically from behind Jax. I don’t know if I should lie or tell the truth. Obviously, this Detective Layton wouldn’t be here if he couldn’t connect me and Nix—or our residence?—to Marshal. My brain scrambles, flipping through a hundred different answers. “Yes?”
I hate that it sounds like a question, but I can’t get a grip. I can practically feel the cuffs tightening around my wrists. I thought I would have more time to prepare myself, to possibly accept this. There isn’t much that can shake me anymore, but prison? Prison makes me want to throw up. I may have lived a shit life, but it was always on the right side of the law—if you don’t count taking care of Nix while being underage. But that would have never put me inprison.
“Do you know when the last time you saw him was?” Layton asks.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Didn’t he just ask a question, and now he has another? They’re coming too fast. This is all happening too fast. My heartbeat thuds loudly against my ribs. How come I never thought what I would say if someone came asking? I should have prepared. Fuck, I should have prepared.
“What’s it matter?” Jax asks, thankfully interrupting, and I snap my mouth shut.
The slurred speech is gone from his tone, but he’s still holding onto the dialect of dimwit misogynist. I don’t know what he was trying to do by staggering up here pretending to be drunk, but thank fuck he did. I may have been telling myself I would be happy to never see him again, but right now, he’s a godsend.
Layton pauses, looking up from a notepad I hadn’t noticed. His stare is heavy and unblinking. “And what’s your relation to Marshal Wayne?”
Jesus. Another question? He didn’t even answer Jax. I swallow the whine that wants to pour from my lips and flounder. I really don’t know how to answer that, and my heart thumps painfully under my breastbone at the fact that I’m fucking this up. What’s wrong with me? I need to handle this.
“He’s a friend,” I say, raising my chin but not letting go of Jax.
“Is he an…” Layton hesitates, eyeing Jax before focusing on me. “An intimate friend?”
Ew.Marshal was in his early fifties with a goatee, and I can’t help the repulsion that shakes my body. “No!” I blurt. “God, no. He was just a friend of the family. He helped out.”
“Helped?” The detective raises a brow as Jax stiffens.
My brows come together. “Yeah, like giving my truck a jump or—”
Oh, no.
Caught in the sharp stare of the detective, my bottom lip falls. I realize too late that I fucked up. I usedpast tense. Jax shifts in front of me, just enough to press back against my grip, like he caught it and is alerting me. But Ihaverealized, and my stomach twists. The detective’s silence is worse than another question. He just stands, pen hovering over his damn notepad.
I need to fix this.
“Hehelpsout,” I correct quickly, forcing the words through the tightness in my throat. “Or—he did.”
Fuck. That’s not better. That’s not better at all. What the hell am I doing?!
