Page 51 of Killian's Vengeance

Ultimately, curiosity had me creeping behind them like a cat burglar and slinking quietly down the hall. They left the door partly ajar, which I thought was strange for an interrogation. A lump of anxiety started to form in my stomach as I slowly pushed the door open and all my fears were horrifically confirmed. Lily was lying on the floor with Killian standing next to her.

I rushed to her, hopeful that she might only be injured, but knowing in the pit of my stomach that it was far worse than that. “Lily! What happened to her? Is she okay?”

Killian looked at me, his hard features softened with compassion and resignation. He reached up, his rough thumb rubbing against my jaw. “I’m sorry, Willa. Your sister is dead.”

I didn’t even realize I was shaking my head until I saw Killian’s lips pressed together in regret as he watched me. “How? What happened?”

“Strangled,” Cullen’s voice replied. That voice poked at me, agitating me, provoking me. My grief was instantly transformed into an inferno of rage as I whirled on him, staring him down as he leaned nonchalantly against the wall while my sister laid dead on the ground.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You killed my sister!”

My sister, my only living family member, was dead. Yes, I knew she was borderline demonic, but she was still my blood.

Cullen rolled his eyes at me—an infuriating response—and walked to the security office with Killian holding me and following him.

After we entered the office, Cullen frowned at me ferociously. “It wasn’t me, but I sure as fuck wish it had been.”

I looked at him incredulously, then to Killian. Killian shot a glance at Cullen, who rolled his eyes again, but shook his head almost imperceptibly. They proceeded to stare at each other as if having some kind of telepathic conversation. Killian’s lips pressed together, and he looked at me.

“It wasn’t him, Will,” Killian said gently, rubbing my upper arm as if he was pacifying a cranky toddler. Normally, his touch would be comforting, but right now it felt condescending and minimizing. Who else but Cullen would want to kill her?

“You’re taking his side? You believe him over all the evidence? You know how much he hated my sister—hates me! Murdering her was like killing two birds with one stone. He gets back at Lily for her involvement in Mac’s death and he hurts me at the same time. You can’t possibly believe he didn’t do it!” I knew I was bordering into full-blown hysteria, but Lily had been the only family member I’d had left, and while she had been terrible, maybe actually evil, it was still a loss.

Now, I was completely alone.

Killian’s hands came up to cradle my face, his brow puckered in concern. “Willa, baby, take a breath.”

I pushed his hands away. Tears were now flooding down my cheeks like a dam had burst. They were tears for everything that had happened, for all the loss in my life, for all the sadness I’d had to endure in my short time on this earth. Tears for the man who had come to mean more than I ever could have imagined in such a short time and who was now letting me down.

My life had become a series of depressing events hinged together by my sad attempts to rebound from them. I was completely spiraling into a black hole of self-pity and depression with no ability, no strength to pull myself out of it.

“No, I won’t take a breath. My sister, my last living family member, is dead. She died where every man in the vicinity wanted her dead, but no one will take responsibility for it. This is bullshit. I’m leaving and I don’t want to ever see any of you again.”

“Willa, stop.” Killian’s voice was firmer, less tolerant.

“Stop? Stop complaining about being kidnapped? About being tortured? About being coerced into helping you guys track down my sister? About helping you guys capture her only to end up getting her killed?”

“She was going to end up dead, anyway. Someone just sped up the timeline,” Cullen said, eyeing me with annoyance.

“Christ, Cullen,” Killian groaned.

“I’m out of here.”

I whirled around, practically blinded by tears, and headed for the door. Killian’s strong arms wrapped around me, crushing me with his strength, blanketing me with his soothing scent, tempting me to relax into his comforting embrace and let everything else just drift away.

For a moment, I did just that, relaxed against his familiar, strong body. “Willa,” he said softly, that one word filled with a wealth of compassion, but there was something else there. A rebuke. He was redirecting me, letting me know he thought I was overreacting. That he didn’t believe his friend had killed my sister. That my belief that he did was foolish and misguided.

Well, fuck that.

Bolstered by rage, I broke free of his embrace and stormed out of the office and back to Killian's room.

I needed to get out of here.

My brain felt like a misfiring spark plug, hardly able to process everything that happened in such a short period of time. I snatched my skirt off the floor and pulled it on, rapidly realizing I didn’t have anything here other than shoes and my cell phone. How was I supposed to get out of here?

Before I could make it to the door, Killian walked into the room, his hands folded over his chest. “Willa, calm the fuck down and listen for a minute.” Did he think that would be a successful way to appeal to me?

“I don’t need to listen. I need to leave.”

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