Page 79 of Killing Me Softly

Pure, guttural agony tore through the night like a wound splitting open. “Fuck!” He didn’t even know who he was aiming it at. The police? His sister? Hismother? The doctors?Himself? It didn’t matter.“Fuckall of you!”

Kenny’s grip didn’t falter. He held him through the rage. Through the broken cries ripping his throat and the tears blurring the horror in front of him.

“Okay, baby, it’s okay…” Kenny’s voice wavered, thick and just as fractured. He couldn’t believe that. It wasn’t okay! How was thisokay?

But Aaron gave out. Fight collapsing under everything caving in on him. He spun in Kenny’s arms, clenching his fists into his jumper, and sank into him. Kenny enveloped him. Without hesitation. Without question. And he guided them both down to the curb, easing Aaron to sit. The flashing lights burned behind them. The quiet chaos of forensic work continued. And all Aaron could do was press his face into Kenny’s shoulder, body wrecked, breath ragged, hands clutching him as if he was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

There, in Kenny’s arms, time blurred.

The world beyond the barricade tape was a disjointed reel of motion and sound. Flashes of stark white forensic suits drifted like ghosts through the crime scene, the rhythmic pulse of blue lights painting the night in flickering streaks with the inaudible murmur of officers logging evidence, voices muffled by death.

Aaron couldn’t see inside the house. Didn’t need to.

He couldfeelit.

The gravity of it pressed down on him, heavy on his chest, dragging his mind backward.Twelve years ago.When it had beenhishouse flooded with this much commotion. When he’d been led through a sea of uniforms, hushed voices speaking over him, around him, but nevertohim. He could still hear the static squawk of police radios, the click of cameras capturing the aftermath of the carnage his parents left behind.

The flash of their faces in the papers, in the courtroom, in hisnightmares.

And just like then, Jack had been there. The one who’d found him in his hiding place.Kenny had been there too, watching from the periphery. The man who would later dissect his past as if it was a puzzle to be solved.

Now, years later, everything had shifted. But the horror was the same.

Aaron shuddered, the tremors rolling through him in relentless waves. Kenny held him through it, steady as a lifeline. He didn’t speak. Didn’t even try to soothe him. Words wouldn’t mean anything. So Kenny just held him.

A figure stepped forward, forcing Aaron to raise his head, sluggish, dazed, the salt of his own tears drying his skin. Jack, fully suited in white Tyvek, hood drawn up, face pale and tight behind the mask, pulled it down, revealing a grim expression carved from stone.

“Is he…?” Aaron couldn’t finish it. Couldn’t say it.

Jack inhaled through his nose. “Yes.”

“How?” His voice cracked. Fragile.

Jack hesitated.

Aaron could see the weight behind Jack’s eyes, the knowledge he wasn’t saying. The details he’d already compartmentalised and filed into neat forensic reports while Aaron was drowning in them.

Still Jack didn’t answer.

So Aaron stood. “How?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Yes, you fucking can!”

Kenny stood, holding Aaron’s arms. Not tight enough. He wasn’t an unleashed puppy. He was the feral rottweiler.

“We have to conduct a full examination.”

“But youknow.” Aaron’s chest heaved. “You fuckingknow.” He jabbed a shaking finger at Jack, accusation and grief tangled in his words. “Tell me.”

“Aaron, listen to me.” Kenny’s voice was low but firm, forcing him back from the edge. “Jackcan’ttell you. It’s a live investigation. Chain of evidence. Protocols.”

Aaron wasn’t listening. Couldn’t hear it over the hammering of his own pulse.

“Shot?” Aaron raised his voice. “Stabbed?Suffocated?”

Jack exhaled hard, scrubbing a gloved hand over his mask before yanking it off completely. “Strangled.”

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