Page 91 of Velvet Corruption

I let my smile sharpen. “She doesn’t.”

The guy didn’t ask any more questions. He pulled out, disappearing down the street, and I didn’t watch him go. I was still watching her.

Ruby, oblivious, slipping into her car, exhausted and unaware.

She didn’t look up. She didn’t look around. She didn’t see me. Not anymore.

But she clearly needed me.

She needed someone to look after her.

I should have stopped. But I didn’t.

I should have let her go. But I wouldn’t.

She thought she was done with me. But I wasn’t done with her.

So I got in my car. And I followed her.

Chapter Twenty: Ruby

Ihad promised myself I wouldn’t think about Kieran today.

I had promised myself I wouldn’t think about Kieran any single fucking day.

And yet, as I pulled up to the park, my hands were still tight on the wheel, knuckles pale from the pressure.

It wasn’t fear—not really. I wasn’t afraid of him. Not in the way I should have been. I was afraid of what he did to me.

How easily he got in my head. How, even now, weeks later, my body still knew the shape of his hands, the weight of his voice, the way he looked at me like he’d do anything to keep me safe.

I’d had nightmares at first. Horrible visions of being in murky, muddy water, drowning in the density of it as ship engines roared in the distance, threatening to swallow me.

But that had changed. The dreams had changed into Kieran holding me on the dock, stroking my wet hair, telling me I’d be okay. And honestly, I didn’t know which one was worse. The chilling threat he had given that man on the docks still resonated in my ears, playing on a loop inside my head.

Kieran fucking Callahan. He wasn’t supposed to be a part of my world. He wasn’t supposed to be anything to me, just a shadow, just a name that came up in meetings and police reports. But then he’d been there, in my space, in my life, too close and too present and too easy to let in.

And now, I couldn’t breathe without tasting the air he’d left behind.

I gripped the wheel tighter. My reflection stared back at me in the rearview mirror, eyes too wide, mouth set in a line I didn’t recognize. This was supposed to be a good day. A distraction. A morning without any complications.

And even his memory managed to complicate this.

I tried to focus on the street, on the world outside the window. Boston in autumn—cool air and fading leaves, the sky too bright for how I felt inside.

People strolled by, bundled in coats and scarves, faces flushed with the chill. I wondered what that was like, to walk without looking over your shoulder.

I exhaled through my nose, forcing my hands to unclench from the steering wheel.

Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not here.

In the backseat, Rosie kicked her feet and hummed to herself, blissfully unaware of the tangled mess in my head. I wanted to keep it that way. I wanted this morning to feel normal, even if I couldn’t.

“You like Eva, right?” I asked her.

“Yeah,” she said. “She’s nice. I like her backpack.”

“Thank you for agreeing to this. I know you’d rather be home watching cartoons.”

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