Текст книги "Kian"

Автор книги: Tijan

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When I got up the next morning, the nerves hit me hard, but I ignored them and got ready. I was doing a good job of pretending to be normal.

Erica was not. She flew out of her room and gestured to the coffee with a savage motion. “I need that. Now. Now. Now.”

She reached for it.

I held it away from her. “I think not. You’re ready to go boom. You need to calm down.”

I glanced to the couch. No Wanker. He wasn’t here when he was needed. As Erica let out a curse and then a pent-up scream before grabbing an energy drink from the refrigerator, I knew he would’ve known exactly how to handle her. He always knew if a joke would work and what type of joke, too, or if he needed to piss her off. Either way, he was the Erica Whisperer.

She slammed down the empty can. “We have to go. Now. We’re late. Why are we always late?”

I grabbed my bag and got in line behind her. After unlocking our door, she stepped through and held it open for me. When I didn’t immediately sprint behind her, her hand started waving me in a continuous spin. I frowned at her but held my tongue. A wise roommate knew when to enter a battle or when the opponent was too crazy to beat. Erica—judging from the fraying hair, wild lines around her eyes, and dilated pupils—could go off on a homeless person for sharing her sidewalk space.

I was very wise in that moment.

And I continued to be as Erica huffed and puffed throughout the entire bus ride. When she pulled the cord, I looked out the window but didn’t see the newspaper building. The ritziest hotel in the city, Seton, was there instead.

I grabbed Erica’s arm after we got off.

“What?”

I gestured to the hotel. “What are we doing here?”

“This is where the interview is being done.”

“Here?”

I fought to keep the panic from my voice. “Is he staying here?”

He couldn’t be. If he was, his sister was, too.

“I don’t know, but I doubt it. His family owns that other one—and don’t ask me why we’re not interviewing there either. When big celebs do interviews, even with us lowly newspapers, they pick somewhere they’re not staying. More anonymity that way.” Her lips pursed together. “Or I’d imagine. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’m not a celebrity, and I’m probably never going to be rich, so who cares?” She grabbed my hand and yanked me after her. “Let’s go.”

I couldn’t move. I was terrified that he hadn’t held up his promise, and the cameras were going to point my way instead.

However, Erica didn’t care. She dragged me behind her, through the swinging doors and past the luxurious lobby. There were couches, gold-plated statues, a fountain, and lots of stuffy people. This seemed like a hotel where Kian’s family would stay.

Erica swept past the front desk and into the elevator. We rode it to a middle floor, and as we got out, I saw a bunch of banquet rooms. Erica slowed, craning her neck to peer into the smaller conference rooms, until she grabbed my hand once again and swung an abrupt right into one of the rooms.

“Here.”

A table was set up against the wall with water, soda, juice, and coffee along with different food choices—pizza, finger sandwiches, vegetable trays, fruit platters, and lots of other dishes that I would’ve salivated over if I wasn’t ready to pee my pants. Not the literal way, the nervous way. My stomach felt like it was still riding the Crazy Erica Train.

“Okay.” Susan cleared her throat from the back of the room. She clapped for everyone’s attention. “All eyes on me. Right here.”

When people quieted, she signaled to someone. “Can you shut the door?”

She turned back to us. “Okay. Here’s the game plan. We’ve gone over it before, but we’re doing it again. Kian Maston is going to be arriving in the next hour. I want all the teams set up and ready to go. As soon as his team walks through those doors, you’ve got cameras on him. Your recorders are primed and rolling. Pencils are at the ready. You get my drift. We’re not here for an exposure or a hatchet job. We are going to tell Kian’s story with respect. He’s loved by a nation, and we’re going to capitalize on that love. Everyone is going to be watching us and asking why we got the story they wanted. We got it because we’re a damn good paper. We’re going to prove that to the nation. We’re going to make psychopaths cry. I’m fucking Barbara Walters today. Erica?” She snapped her fingers in my roommate’s direction.

“Yes?”

“You’re Meredith Vieira. You got it? Are you channeling her?”

Erica’s jaw set in a firm line. Her eyes were determined, and her nostrils flared. “I’m ready. I woke up with my Meredith hat on this morning. We are going to do an amazing job.”

“Damn straight.”

Susan kept going, calling on each individual, getting every single one prepped and ready.

I was amazed. If she called on me, I would be too stunned to respond. This wasn’t the Susan that I’d met as Tara’s best friend, who hated me, or who wanted to keep tabs on my friendship with Jake. This was a leader. She had charisma. She stood there with confidence, and a buzz was filling the room. It was contagious. Everyone wanted to do their best work, even Erica, who hated Susan but didn’t hate her on this day. Every other day, yes, but not this day.

They were a team that day.

I almost wanted to be a part of their team, but then I remembered this was the media, and my sanity returned.

Someone tapped me on the elbow, and I looked to see a hotel employee.

He leaned close as Susan was still calling on people. “Are you Joslyn Keen?”

“Yeah.”

He handed an envelope to me. “I was asked to give this to you.”

After I took it, he left, scurrying away with his shoulders hunched forward. I frowned at him and then looked down. The envelope was the hotel’s stationery.

Erica leaned over. “What was that about?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Moving away, I went to a corner before I opened it. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Erica, but I was standing in a room of media. I ripped open the envelope, and I was thankful there were no prying eyes. A key card was inside along with a note.

I reserved this room for the day. No one knows about it. It’s intended to be used if I need a hideout from people, but you can use it, too. This day might be hard for you. They always are for me.

Room 914

—K

The doors to the conference room burst open at that moment. A heavyset man rushed inside, closing them behind him. He gasped for breath, his chest heaving up and down. Everyone quieted, waiting for him.

He said, “They’re here.”

Kian had arrived.

The room went nuts but in a controlled sort of way. They were already doing their jobs, but a quiet, intense concentration permeated the room. They were nervous.

Erica found me in the crowd. Her eyes were lit up and dilated. She clutched on to my hand, the same one that held Kian’s note, and she squeezed. “Are you ready? It’s happening. And, holy shit,”—she moved closer, lowering her voice—“he is really freaking hot. Cripes. He’s gorgeous on TV and in the pictures, you know, but it’s another thing in person.” She pulled her collar out and pretended to fan herself. “And I’m going to be alone in a room with him soon. Well,”—she nudged my elbow—“you and I will be in that room with him.”

“And camera people, right? And sound people and people for lighting? Right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Erica craned her neck as a crowd had formed around Kian by the door. “Them, too.”

Suddenly, everyone paused. The doors opened again, and it was surreal. A blanket of stillness settled over everyone, even to some server in the corner, who was sneaking a handroll from the buffet table.

Kian walked in.

Everyone in the room all seemed to be holding their breaths, just watching him.

He looked refreshing, to be honest. He was relaxed and confident. A group went to him, and I could only see the top of his head. There were a few people with him, and I tensed, trying to see if he had followed through. I couldn’t see his sister.

When Susan joined the group, they migrated to the front of the room where two chairs had been set up. The whole production was top-notch and professional. I hadn’t been joking about the lighting, sound, and camera people. Bright lights were centered on the two chairs in the front, and cords ran all over the place, leading to cameras and other video machines.

That was when I clued in. I asked, “You guys are videotaping the interview?”

They were a newspaper. I hadn’t considered why cameras were there, but I was now. They didn’t usually videotape their big interviews.

“Yeah. With this one, we are. We’re doing a normal interview, meaning that we’re going to write it up, but Susan wants to see if a video would bring in more revenue.” Her head moved close again, and she whispered, “Personally, I think she wants to shop it around and see if we can get on a big network and have them show it.”

“And Kian’s team was okay with that?”

Erica lifted a shoulder, riveted, as Kian was shown to one of the chairs. Susan was standing by the next one—touching his arm, smiling at him, laughing, leaning closer to him, showing the side of her boob to him. I was gritting my teeth before I’d realized it.

Erica answered me.

I registered her voice but not her words.

Kian was smiling back at Susan—or that was how it looked to everyone else.

My eyes sharpened. I saw the flatness in his eyes, and they began scanning the room, moving from person to person. He was looking for me. Realization flooded my body, warming it, and before I knew it, tingles were shooting through me as well. They started low in my stomach, but I felt them spread all the way to the back of my throat. He couldn’t see me in the far back, and my feet started moving of their own accord. I went to the outskirts of the crowd. Erica was next to me, holding tightly to my elbow. I was just as engrossed with Kian as she was.

Then, he saw me.

His eyes warmed.

There was no other change on his face. He was still smiling at whatever Susan was saying, but without a doubt, I knew that he wasn’t paying her attention. All his focus was on me, and he saw the envelope in my hand. His eyes darkened even more. An alarm started going off in the back of my mind, but I ignored it. It felt right to be standing there as he was about to be interviewed and having him just as captivated with me as I was with him.

I stepped back, jarring myself from the staring spell, and I looked away. No one was paying attention to me, except for Kian. Even that small bit of looking at each other shouldn’t have happened. This was wrong. I shouldn’t be here. We were going to be discovered—no, I was going to be discovered.

I started for the door, but Erica tightened her hold on my arm.

“Where are you going?” she hissed under her breath.

“I…”

Kian was still watching me. A flicker of concern showed in his eyes, and he stopped smiling at Susan. She would notice and then look for the reason of his attention. The room was suddenly so hot, and I started panting. I couldn’t catch my breath. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I felt the room starting to blur at the edges of my vision.

I had to get out of here.

“I…” My throat wasn’t working.

“You can’t leave.” She firmly held me.

Her feet were like cement, holding me in place. “Jo! What are you doing? You’re bailing on me.”

“I…” I was going to pass out. I felt it coming. I shoved her away and unlinked our arms. “I’m sorry, Erica. I have to go.”

I didn’t think about where I was going.

I was in the elevator and pressing the button for the ninth floor before I could catch my breath. There were others in the elevator with me. When I stumbled out on the ninth floor, I bent over and took gaping breaths. I was alone, for the moment, but I knew someone might come along at any moment. Someone from the paper could be coming after me.

I couldn’t linger, so I found room 914. Once inside, I blasted the air conditioner and stood over it. I didn’t pay attention to the room. I needed cold air on my face. I needed to calm down. My God, what if someone had been paying me attention? Or worse, since all eyes had been on Kian and he’d been focused on me, someone could’ve noticed and then started to wonder why he was staring at me with such intensity.

And if Erica found out, I’d lose her. I’d lose Wanker, too. They never questioned my lies, so they were my only friends I’d held on to. All others had been let go. If people got too close, they would want to know too much.

I was so stupid.

No.

I was reckless.

And it was all to see Kian again, all to just be around him.

This was wrong. This was dangerous. No more visits.

As I started to calm down, I sat down on a chair and wiped the tears from my face. My legs were still trembling.

My head folded into my lap, and I let the tears free. I was soon sobbing. I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to stop myself. I sank to the floor and curled my arms around my knees, hugging them to my chest.

I still wept.

I’d stopped living the lie for one moment. That was why I had gone to see him—because I could be Jordan Emory again, not Jo Keen. For a split second, I’d stopped feeling like I was hiding.

I was fooling myself.

The nation loved him, and they would turn on me. It’d happened over and over again. Victims would get blamed, and the public already blamed me. It’d happen again.

This thing I was doing with him—meeting him on the roof, then meeting him again, and then seeing him at my roommate’s interview—had to stop.

Kian had to cease to exist for me again.

I wanted to stay in that room.

The longer I did, the more I thought Kian would come find me. I wanted that, and being in a room that was a secret between us, it was hurting me to write the letter that I did.

I left it on the desk, so he’d see it immediately. It wasn’t long. I’d thanked him for offering me the room. I’d thanked him for reassuring me on the roof, for making sure I was okay. But I had to go back to my old life, and that meant no Jordan, no Kian, and certainly no history that could harm either of us.

I had wanted to sign it as Jo, but I’d signed it with my real name. It’d been so long since I had written Jordan, and it felt right, but like Kian, I had to let that go, too. That also included seeing Snark since I wasn’t technically in the Witness Protection Program. He’d used his resources to help me get a new life. I needed to not see him again and stand firm in who Jo Keen was, not who Jordan Emory had been.

Avoiding the elevators, I left the hotel by going down the stairs. When I got to the lobby, one of the newspaper people was there. He was the guy who had given me a hard time, Bob, and he was scanning the entire lobby. I was guessing that Erica had sent him to look for me, but I didn’t want to hear any message she might’ve sent with him. Erica thought her life was going to die if I wasn’t there just because Susan would find some way to stab her in the back. It was a lie. Erica would do just fine. Their interview would do wonderfully. Erica didn’t need me to hold her hand to make that happen.

When Bob went to the restroom, I slipped through the lobby. I didn’t see an approaching bus, and I didn’t want to wait, so I grabbed a cab. Once I gave him the address, I sent Erica a quick text.

I’m okay. Panic attack. Going home to feel better.

I hit Send and then added another one.

You’ll do great! Kick interview butt!

I was a few blocks from my apartment when I got a text back. Expecting a response from Erica, I saw it was Jake instead.

You okay? Went to your job earlier. They said you were sick.

Jake.

Good Jake.

Normal Jake.

The Jake who ran away from a bunch of thirty-year-olds.

Jo’s Jake, not Jordan’s Jake.

I changed my mind and sent a quick text to him.

Where are you?

My place .

I leaned forward and told the cab driver, “I need to go somewhere else.”

After giving him the new address, I texted Jake.

I’m coming over.

I expected a text back but never got one.

When the car pulled up to the house Jake shared with a bunch of guys, I saw why. Ten cars were lined down the street, and another six were squashed in the driveway.

Jake was having a party.

Once the cab left and I headed to the front door, I had doubts. Maybe I should leave? He hadn’t texted back.

Hearing loud music and shouts from inside, I opened it and bypassed the doorbell. I doubted anyone could hear it anyway.

It’d been so long since I was at Jake’s house. He had four other roommates. I’d met two of them during our brief fling but not the others. Jake hadn’t been close to them, only the two I’d met. Stepping into the living room, I didn’t recognize anyone here. A baseball game was on the television, but only three guys were paying attention. They lounged on the couch while others in the room were talking among themselves. A group stood in one corner, and another stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. I glimpsed a full kitchen and then stepped aside as four more guys ran down the stairs behind me and went around into the kitchen, through the kitchen, and out the back door.

This was a full party, like a real party. It wasn’t a shindig or a gathering.

I moved into the kitchen, grabbed a mini bottle of wine, and headed out to the backyard. Was Jake going to invite me to this? Was that why he’d stopped by at my job? I doubted it. I still didn’t see anyone I recognized.

I noticed Jake was in front of his garage. A basketball hoop was nailed to the top of it, and he lined up for a shot. The ball went through the net and bounced, and then it was caught by a guy and passed right back to Jake. He hadn’t texted back because he was shooting hoops.

But then I saw Tara standing on the sidelines, watching him.

I stood there, just staring.

I should leave, but he’d see my text whenever he checked his phone. He’d know that I was there—or at least that I was going to head to his house.

Seriously, what was I even doing here in the first place?

I came so I wouldn’t think about Kian, the interview, or angry Erica. That was why. I was using Jake, and remembering the last time I saw him, shame flooded me.

I needed to go. I shouldn’t be here.

Before I could though, Jake turned and spotted me. His eyes got big, and he caught the ball, freezing in position.

Another guy came up, hit the ball out of his hands, and dribbled to make a layup. He pointed at Jake. “In your face, Monroe!”

Jake wasn’t paying attention. He started for me, lifting his hand, as if to touch me. “Jo.”

Tara’s head whipped around. An instant glare formed in her eyes, and she crossed her arms over her chest. The two girls with her looked, too. They all seemed confused until she leaned over, and her lips moved. I was sure my name was uttered, and the other two adopted similar glares. All three stood as if they were facing off against me.

“Hey.” Jake raised his arms, as if to hug me. A second’s hesitation, and then he did. Stepping back, he glanced over his shoulder and then touched my arm. “Want to get a drink?”

I lifted my little wine bottle in the air.

“Ah. Uh…” He flashed me a grin, moving me back toward the house. “Want to come with me while I get a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” He chuckled near my ear as his hand fell to my back.

Reaching over me, he pulled open the door. I ducked underneath. He moved around me again. He grabbed a case of beer, hooking it with his finger, and took my hand with his free one.

Some of his friends in the kitchen said hello, calling out to him and patting him on the arm or back as he maneuvered us through the rest of the kitchen. We headed down the basement stairs. It was the same scene below. A band was setting up in a corner with couches all around. At one end, a media station was set up. A flat screen television was mounted on the wall with the shelves filled with DVDs and video games. And the same thing happened as he led me down the hallway to a back bedroom. They all shouted hello to Jake, and he lifted his hand up, the case of beer dangling from it, in greeting back to them.

We got to his room, but the door was locked. Jake let go of my hand, felt above his doorframe, and came back down with a key. He grinned at me before he inserted it into his door. Then, we were inside, and the door was locked once again.

He tossed the key onto the nightstand by his door and gestured around the room. “My casa.”

The room consisted of a desk, a large bed, built-in bookshelves, and his own bathroom through a walk-in closet.

I perched on the desk chair. “It’s a nice room.”

“Thanks.” He stood in the middle of the room, raking a hand through his hair, as he glanced back at the door. “I don’t know what to say. I guess I’m just surprised to see you here.” He looked at the door, at me, and then back to the door. “Shit. I forgot my phone up there. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Promise me, you won’t go anywhere.”

I laughed. “Go get your phone.”

“I will be right back. I swear.” He hurried out but popped back into the room. “Seriously, don’t leave.”

“I won’t. Get your phone before someone goes through it.”

He groaned but disappeared in a flash.

It’d been so long since I was in his room. Back then, I would’ve been so nervous, and now…Kian was in the back of my mind. This was stupid. I was using him to help get another guy out of my head. This wasn’t right. I was wasting Jake’s time, and I stood to go. I got as far as the stairs.

Jake came back down. “Where are you going?”

“This was a mistake, coming here. I should go. I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Wait.” He caught my arm and then glanced at the audience we were attracting. He tugged me toward his room again. “Just come and talk to me. That’s what friends do, right?”

The half-grin he gave me was meant to look appealing, but it looked sad. I didn’t know the backstory of Tara being at the party, but Jake was still interested in me. I saw it then. And my decision was reaffirmed.

“Jake, I really should go.”

“Okay, okay.” He let me go but jumped in front of me. He backpedaled as I walked forward. “How about this? If you don’t want to hang out in my room, I’ll come with you. It won’t be like you coming to find me, if you know what I mean. Think of it like me tagging along, and you’re not doing anything wrong because, hey,” he patted his chest, “it’s me following you. Not the other way around.” He tried for his most charming smile. “What do you say?”

We were at the top of the stairs and moving through the kitchen. Tara stood inside the backyard door. A pained expression was on her face.

I didn’t know what to think about that look from her. She was still in love with him. I got that. They dated since their high school years, so I really did get the history, but there had been a note of desperation in Jake’s voice.

I wondered if he was doing the same thing with me that I was doing with him—using each other to forget someone else.

Before we moved into the living room, Jake saw her, too. He stopped, straightened, and dropped his hands back to his sides. A dark look passed between the two.

Decision made.

He was hurting. I’d do the friend thing and get him out there. I grabbed his hand, linked our fingers, and tugged him behind me. “Come on.”

He fell in line behind me, his shoulders and head dropped slightly, as his hand squeezed mine. He murmured close to my ear, “Thank you.”

I nodded. He was trying to get her out of his system.

“I can relate.”

Once outside, I called a cab, but Jake took my phone away and ended the call.

He said, “My car’s on the street. I can drive.”

“Have you been drinking?”

He shook his head. “Tara showed up too early for me to start partying.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket as we headed for his car. He went to the driver’s side, and I got in on the passenger side.

After the doors were shut behind us, he added, fitting the key into the ignition, “When the ex showed up, I knew the normal thing would be to start drinking, but I couldn’t. My mind was racing too much for me to get drunk. I get hyper and restless.” He pulled into the street. “Plus, I like to have a clear head in case we get into a fight.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Is it like that for you and whatever ex I had no idea about?”

I laughed. He wasn’t upset. I relaxed into my seat and shrugged. “He’s not an ex, but yeah, there’s someone else.”

“I wondered about that.”

“You did?”

We paused at an intersection.

Then, he pulled forward. “I’m going to sound like an ass here, but I’ve kinda wondered about it since the beginning, especially when we raced away from those old people. You seemed extra charged that night, and then when we got to your place, you got that text, and there was nothing for me. You called me Wanker.”

“I did?” My mouth fell open.

He laughed, turning onto the interstate now. “It was sort of a blow to the ego, but, hey, I’m the one who fucked up. I had a shot with you, and I went back to Tara. It was a mistake. The two of us…” He shook his head. “We’re bad. I thought she knew that, too, and accepted it. I don’t know why she came today, but she’s friends with some of my buddies. They invited her. She’s got friends who are friends with my friends.”

“She wants you back, but I don’t have to inform you of that.” I leveled him with a knowing look. “You already knew that.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. His jaw firmed, and his hands clenched tighter on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t matter. No matter how much we loved each other, it’s over.” He glanced through the side of his eye to me. “For good. I have to move on.”

Now, I smiled. Before, I would’ve squirmed, wondered if he’d meant me, but I shook my head this time. “Are you serious? We just told each other that we were trying to forget other people, and you’re flirting with me again?”

He laughed, his hands relaxing on the wheel. “You’re right, but I can’t resist. You’re gorgeous, Jo. Seriously. All those guys back there were checking you out.”

And cue the squirming. “No one noticed me, except for you.” I paused and then relented, “Well, they noticed us when we walked out, holding hands.”

He barked out another laugh. “You’re right. Tara’s going to be fuming about that for months. I’m sure she’s on the phone, bitching to Susan already.”

Susan.

The interview.

Erica.

I cursed.

“What?”

“I’m in trouble.”

“Why?”

“I was supposed to be at that interview, and then I ditched it.” I cringed. “I told Erica I went home because I was sick.”

“Well…shit.” He turned on the blinker and turned right onto my street.

“She’s the kind to hear that I went to your party instead of being there for her, so she will jump to the conclusion that I ditched her to hang out with you instead.” I groaned. “I’m in such trouble. Fuck Ki—” My hand clamped over my mouth. I’d almost said Kian.

Oh my God. My heart started pounding.

I felt the blood draining from my face as I stuttered, “Uh—fuck-ing hell.”

Jake was quiet, swiveling into a parking spot a block down from my building. I waited, my heart pounding, to see how he’d react to that slip.

After he turned the car off, he took the keys out and regarded me for a moment. “Ki, huh? Tell me the truth.”

Oh my God.

He cocked his head up and smirked, a flirty gleam in his eyes. “Did you go and fall in love with Keetan Birches behind my back?”

Keetan Birches?

It clicked. Keetan was in our class, and he’d given me a rose one day. That was when Jake and I’d first begun to see each other. Jake hadn’t thought it was funny, but Keetan was a clown. He’d pretended to propose marriage at the end of class, too, all for a show and all to get to Jake.

I burst out laughing and grabbed on to Jake’s arm. “No, no. Fucking hell. I meant to say, ‘Fucking hell.’ Not Keetan. But you know that was all to piss you off back then, right?”

He started chuckling with me. “I know. He had a thing for Tara during our freshman year.”

He got out of the car and resumed as we approached my front door, “To be honest, I think he’s the one who screwed us up.”

I unlocked the door, and we headed for the elevator. “What do you mean?”

Jake leaned against the wall as I hit the button.

He folded his arms and shrugged. “I think Keetan asked Tara out. When she told him about us, he told her about you and me. That was why she suddenly wanted to get back together. That’s my guess anyway.”

The elevator arrived, and we waited until we got to my floor. As we walked to my apartment, I couldn’t shake the feeling of comfort. We seemed like actual friends. When I unlocked my door and we went in, I started grinning. I couldn’t stop.

“What’s that look for?” Jake helped himself to the refrigerator and grabbed a water. “That’s when I should’ve listened to my instincts, you know.”

I tossed my bag and keys onto the table. “How so?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go. I was dumb back then.”

My eyebrows arched up. “That was seven months ago.”

He slid into a chair across from me. “Yeah, I was a whole other person back then. I thought I was God’s gift to women.” He tipped his water to me. “Thought I could let you go and get you back with the snap of my fingers.”

I frowned. “That’s…mildly insulting.”

He waved that off and winked. “Don’t be. I’m the one with a good kick to my ego. I don’t know who the other guy is, but he’s an idiot. He shouldn’t let you go. You’re going to get snapped up by some guy.” He patted himself on the chest. “I’m not that lucky.”

“Shut up.” But I was grinning. It felt nice, hearing all of this, even though I knew it was smoke going up my ass. “You’re the one who’s going to be back with Tara by the end of the month.”

“No.” He scowled and shook his head. “No way.”

“That’s my prediction. I’m just smart, knowing to get out of the way of your epic love story with her.”

“No, no, no.” He kept shaking his head. “That will never happen. Never again.”

“Never again, Jordan.” Kian’s voice sounded in my head.

He was standing beside Edmund, and he paused, saying those words to me, before he gripped the knife tighter. I knew he was going to do it. I saw it. I felt it. I had a moment to stop him. I could. I knew it. I couldn’t explain how I knew it, but he would stop if I’d utter just one word. I didn’t, and he didn’t. I closed my eyes now, jerking in my chair, as Kian’s arm moved in one smooth motion, slicing Edmund’s throat. It’d happened so quickly, not even in the blink of an eye. It had been faster. Then, it was done. Edmund stood there with a confused look in his eyes. It was like he didn’t realize what had happened. He hadn’t felt it then. One more second, and then he did. I saw the pain fill his eyes. His hands lifted to his throat. He made one gurgling sound, and then he fell to his knees.