We’rebothhappier here.
Freddie proves that point by sprinting down the hallway and skidding across the hardwood floor. He slams into the wall, shakes it off, and sprints back. Cats recover from everything.
After a while, Freddie gets bored and saunters into another room. I breathe out a sigh of frustration and decide to makeanothercoffee. Elias has been in touch with Kaycee. He told them that I was sick and that I would be back in a few days. I’m quietly thankful for his meddling—I don’t know what excuse I would have made. Kaycee would have asked too many questions. All it would have taken was them to look at my face or hear my voice, and they would have instantly known something was wrong. Kaycee always does.
I pour some beans into the hopper and hit the button. My mind drifts to the file sitting on the kitchen counter. Elizabeth Miller. Twenty-one years old. Lived just two blocks away from me. I walk over and open the file, and her photo stares right back. She’s pretty. She has a bright smile, deep brown eyes, and ice-blonde hair like mine. She’s holding up a drink, and she looks happy, like the type of girl with a full social calendar for the next six months.
It should have been me. Elias and Cain can deny it all they want, but it’s too big of a coincidence, and I know they know that too. I can only hope she’s dead—sometimes living is a death penalty in itself. A lump forms in my throat at how true I know that to be.
The sound of Elias’s car pulling into the driveway brings my thoughts back to the here and now. I snap the folder closed, pour my coffee, and make my way over to the front door to greet him. Helookslike the boss of a syndicate. There’s a hard line on his jaw where I’m sure he’s been clenching it for the last three hours, and his suit is immaculate, fitting him like a glove.
“I’m so sorry that took so long,” he says, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me into him. He places a small kiss on the top of my head.
“It’s okay. How did it go?” I ask, pulling him closer, careful not to spill coffee on the plush white rug.
He loosens his grip and lets out a breath. He reaches down and gives Freddie a scratch under the chin as he winds himself around Elias’s legs. His hand moves to my lower back, guiding me back toward the kitchen with a somber expression. He pours himself a coffee and turns to me.
“There is no news.”
My shoulders slump, and my heartbeat quickens.
“We have every available resource working on the person who followed you. Any other resource we have is going into finding out where the missing girls are.” There’s something in his tone that lets me know he’s frustrated at the lack of answers.
My chest tightens, and I drop my eyes to my feet. Guilt wracks my body.
“Why am I any more important than them? I’m here. I’m alive. They’re…” The words don’t come out, but they swirl around in my chest.
Dead. Kidnapped. Locked in a basement somewhere.
I swallow hard. “They didn’t do anything to deserve this.”
“Neither did you.”
There’s a finality to his tone, like this topic isn’t up for discussion, but I can’t help the guilt that wracks my body during every waking moment.
Elias moves towards me and pulls me close to him. “You’re our biggest lead, Kat. We can’t chase ghosts.”
I let out a shaky breath. I didn’t think of it that way.
“It should have been me,” I whisper against his chest, a lump forming in my throat.
He pulls back and takes my face in his hands so I have no choice but to look at him. “But it wasn’t.”
Just like that. It wasn’t. It wasn’t me. I had to accept that. I had to keep going… like I always did. If not for me, or for Elias, then for the girls who need it. I have to help find them.
We stay like this for a few moments, just wrapped in each other’s embrace.
“Can I ask you a question?” I whisper.
“Anything.”
“Can you take me to my apartment? I want to grab my guitar and songbook.”
My eyes search his face for a response. His brows knit as if he’s thinking it over. I’ve wanted those two things back ever since I woke up from my accidental suicide attempt. But my songbook is for my hands only, and despite my protests, Elias was right. I’ve been healing and resting. Today is the first day that I actually feel like I can walk around without dizziness swarming my brain.
“Yes. But you’re not going there alone, and you have to rest afterwards,” he says, his brows raised in warning.
I roll my eyes but give a small jump of joy anyway.
