Page 36 of Killing Me Softly

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Jack.”

A pause lingered on the line, heavy and unspoken. Then Jack’s tone softened.“You got anyone there with you?”

Kenny rubbed his forehead. “Aaron’s here.”

“You told him?”

“That she’s gone, yeah.”

“That you have suspicions this isn’t natural causes? About the roses? The card from Jessica?”

“No.”

Jack hesitated, then pushed forward.“You need to think about involving him in this. Telling him everything. I know how you get, Kenny. You’ll bury yourself in this until it pulls you under. You need someone who can pull you back out. Who can look for those signs. If you’re as deep in this thing with Aaron asI think you are, then give him the chance to do that for you.Bethat for you. Don’t shut him out. He won’t thank you for it.”

“I don’t need relationship advice from you, Jack. I need you to do your job.”

“I am. And you should let Aaron do his—by being your fucking boyfriend.”

“Aaron has enough shit to deal with without me dragging him in this, too.”

“You’re not dragging him, Kenny. He’s already in it. Whether you like it or not. You’re in a fucking relationship with Roisin Howell’s son. He’s not some outsider you can feed half-truths to and hope he stays safe.”

Kenny closed his eyes.“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“He’ll hurt more when he finds out you’re lying to him.”

Silence.

Kenny had no response. Because Jack wasn’t speaking in hypotheticals. That was hisexperiencetalking.

A beat. Then,“I’ll check in later.”

The line went dead.

Kenny collapsed into his chair, body folding in on itself as if the weight in his chest might crack him open. He knew all too well how long investigations could take. He’d lived through the endless days. The painstaking process. And the waiting that stretched on like a void. But that knowledge didn’t temper his relentless drive to pushthisforward. It wasn’t just about the heinous act committed against an elderly woman. His ownmother. It wasn’t solely about whether it was tied to him, to his relationship with Aaron, or to some twisted attempt to torment him. It was because itconsumedhim. He could drown in this.

The way he’d drowned in Jessica’s death.

He’d dedicated his entire life to Jessica. Finding her killer. Uncovering the truth that had haunted him every sleepless night since he was fourteen years old. Why her? Why wouldsomeone choose to snuff out her light in such a brutal, calculated way? Decades had slipped through his fingers, along with countless relationships, including Jack, as he clawed through police reports, chased leads that dissolved into nothing, and meticulously dissected evidence. All of it in a desperate bid to impose order on the chaos. To find peace in understanding. As if knowledge could ever truly quiet the agony. Like a neat and tidy house couldn’t ever appease his messy mind.

And now he knew the truth? It didn’t stop the pain.

Didn’t lessen the horror.

And this was worse.So much worse.His mum hadn’t been some random victim, caught in the crossfire or in the wrong place at the wrong time. She’d diedbecauseof him. And that knowledge tore at him, forcing him deeper into a relentless storm of guilt and turmoil, each wave of anguish more suffocating than the last. Not only had he not been able to save her. He’d led her right to her death.

Kenny saw the signs. They were etched into his memory like scars. Impossible to ignore. He’d seen them before. Recognised the gradual, consuming spiral dragging him down when he let himself drown in fixation. Back then, with Jessica, it had been Jack who bore the weight of his obsession. Or tried to. But Kenny’s needs were relentless, pressing and insistent. When his mind locked onto something, it didn’t let go. Days, weeks, it didn’t matter. He’d vanish into the chase, consumed by the pursuit of understanding, of unravelling the mess in his own mind through others. But the aftermath of those spirals was always the same. A gaping void he couldn’t fill. A desperate need for release clawing at him until it became unbearable.

Jack hadn’t been able to temper that. He hadn’t been able to handle the storm Kenny brought into their lives. So Kenny sought release elsewhere. In back rooms and dark corners, anonymous bodies against his, a fleeting reprieve by fuckingaway the misery gnawing at his soul. But the relief never lasted. Jack would find out. They’d fight. Ugly, vicious arguments leaving them both bleeding and broken. Not always physically, but there had been times Kenny had let Jack punch him until he couldn’t take anymore. And Jack would leave. Hating himself. Then come back. Over and over. Because no one else gave Jack what Kenny could. No one else could pull him into that dark, consuming world and make it feel like home.

Until the day Jack walked away for good. Because no matter how strong he thought he was, he couldn’t survive Kenny’s turmoil. Not forever. And Kenny thought no one would.

Now there wasAaron.

Kenny couldn’t do that to him. Hewouldn’t. Because what they had was different.Aaronwas different. With Jack, there had always been a push and pull, a tension that teetered between desire and destruction. But Aaron didn’t try to temper Kenny’s needs or push back against them. Heabsorbedthem. Held them. Gave them a place to rest. He didn’t demand explanations or solutions. Didn’t try to fix Kenny or change him. He let Kenny unravel without judgment, stepping into the storm with him. With Aaron, it wasn’t about fleeting physical release or the transactional intimacy that had marked so much of Kenny’s past. It was about connection. Unfiltered and terrifyinglyreal.

Jack had been right about one thing. Thiswasabout him. And it was also about Aaron. Ithadto be. There was no other explanation for why someone would target his mother, using Jessica as a twisted calling card. It all screamed of the Howells, and the dark shadow they cast over his life. And Aaron’s life. And it killed him how he couldn’t shed this.Stopthis. For him. For Aaron.

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