Page 83 of Killing Me Softly

Fraser snorted, but his expression sobered as he folded his arms. “Yeah, but what I mean is…take care of him.”

Kenny sensed the shift.

“I’m no you, but I know a man standing on the edge when I see one. Used to run exercise programs for the force. Mostly off-duty officers dealing with PTSD. How I met Jack. I’ve seen what it does. The way it eats at them. Makes them reckless. Like they’ve already lost before the fight’s even started.” He jutted his chin toward the door. “And your boy? He’s in that place.”

“Yeah.” Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know.”

And with that knowledge, Kenny said his goodnight and ascended the stairs, steps more sluggish than usual, the night settling deep into his bones. He found the spare room door ajar and pushed it open to find Aaron already buried beneath the duvet, body curled in on itself, a silent fortress of exhaustion and grief. So Kenny peeled off his clothes, careful to avoid the scattered remnants of Fraser and Jack’s decorating projects, and slipped beneath the covers. The second he did, Aaron latchedonto him. As if something fundamental in him couldn’t stand the space between them.

They kissed, slow and unhurried, neither pushing for more. Skin against skin was enough. The reassurance of presence. Of touch. Aaron pulled away first, shifting just enough to rest his head on Kenny’s chest, tracing his fingers idly through the coarse hair.

Then, quietly, like a thought that had taken too long to form, “Who’s going to tell his mum?”

Kenny closed his eyes, then squeezed Aaron closer. “They’ll notify his local station, and they’ll send a family liaison officer to the house.”

Kenny felt the flutter of Aaron’s lashes over his skin.

“He’s got a sister,” Aaron said. “She’s eleven.”

Kenny didn’t respond. There was nothingtosay. Instead, he pressed a kiss to the top of Aaron’s head, holding him closer, as if sheer proximity could shield him.

“I know he’s a prick.” Aaron closed his eyes. “But he didn’t deserve to die.”

“I know.”

“I’m not upset because I had feelings for him.” Aaron lifted his head, glass-blue eyes searching Kenny’s, looking for reassurance. Understanding. A flicker of desperation, as if Kenny might think otherwise. As if he needed to explain himself before the guilt took root.

Kenny ran a hand through Aaron’s hair, smoothing away worries that didn’t belong here. “Yeah. I know.” He kissed him. “He made a mistake. Several. But that doesn’t excuse murder.”

“They’ll find her, right?” Aaron fell back to Kenny’s chest. “Trace Taylor’s phone? Track her down?”

“That would be the logical procedure.”

“And when she’s arrested? Where will she go?”

“They’ll hold her at a secure facility until her court date. Any competent defence lawyer will claim diminished responsibility because of psychiatric illness, and she’ll be assessed. Most likely, she’ll be sentenced to a high-security hospital.”

Aaron’s fingers stilled. “The one she left?”

“That was for children.”

“Ravenholm?”

“Yes.”

Aaron propped up on one elbow, searching Kenny’s face in the dim light. “Then why was she released? If she’s this—thisunhinged—why the fuck did they let her go?”

Kenny exhaled slowly. A good question. One he should have already asked. “I’ll be asking that tomorrow.”

“Will you be asking Dr Laura Pryce?”

Kenny smoothed a hand over Aaron’s back, coaxing him to settle into a place where this conversation didn’t exist between them right then. “Yes.”

“It’s weird, innit? Her stumbling on us in Barcelona. Then turning up at Ryston. Now all this.”

“I don’t believe it’s a coincidence, if that’s what you mean.”

“Is she involved?”

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