Chapter 45

Chapter 45
Aurelia's POV

"Why does that matter?" I asked, my voice rising as I tried to see through what was not clear.

Killian didn't answer. He just sat there quietly as though expecting me to wear myself out. If only he would just be sensible enough and stop making me question every single thing.

"You're scaring me," I breathed, hugging myself. I wanted him to just give me something, anything, instead of sitting there shutting himself off to me.

"I'm offering you a map," he said at last. His eyes never left mine. "What you make of it is up to you."

I placed a hand over my chest and tried to draw in a normal breath, though it did no good. "You're withholding something from me."

"I'm sharing more with you than others would," he said, leaning back against the headboard as if he had all the time in the world.

"Did you know my father?" I asked in a rush.

"I knew of him," he said, letting his eyes wander toward the window. "I knew enough to know he was stubborn, enough to know he liked to play games with time."

"That doesn't tell me anything," I said, sitting down on the bed until my feet were tucked under me.

"Well, I'm saying he played and lost," Killian said to me, his voice falling so low that it became almost a whisper.

"You think he was killed?" I asked, my throat tightening.

"I think humans open doors," he said, turning to face me again. "Sometimes they don't look at them close enough to know who goes through."

"And Ivy?" I forced the words out. My heart was beating erratically. "What does she have to do with it?

"She's clever with doors," he said. He reached out and picked up the glass from the table, lifted it, then set it back down without taking a drink. "She knows which to close and which to leave open."

"She wouldn't hurt anyone," I said quickly, shaking my head. "She just likes money and comfort, that's all. My father was very wealthy. Wealthier than you're ever likely to be."

"Yes,” Killian said, regarding me for a moment that felt too long. "But comfort never comes without a cost. It always asks for something in exchange."

"That's not evidence, that she's responsible for his death" I snapped out, though trying to maintain an even tone. "It was a heart attack!"

"Evidence is merely a story people cling to," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I look for patterns."

"You're talking in riddles," I said, the tears spilling to the edges of my eyes. "If you do know something, then just say so."

"I've said as much as I can," he said, low but insistently. "The rest is for you to find out."

I wrapped the blanket tight under my chin and scowled at the curtains pulled across the window. "I don't even know what to ask anymore."

"Good," he answered, his voice dropping again. "It's not good to always ask questions."

I closed my eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. "You sound like you're warning me."

"Maybe I am," he said, his face close to mine so that I could sense the heat of his breath on my cheek. "Maybe I'm the only one who is."

I looked at him and caught his gaze. "Why tell me this now?"

"Because you listened when you weren't supposed to," he told me, pushing the tip of my hair back behind an ear with a slow, tender hand. "And you were ready to hear it."

"It wasn't my fault... I was going out and—"

"You could have announced your presence. Give us time to stop talking... You chose to wait... Hear what we were talking about."

He wasn't wrong.

Then the door creaked open without a knock.

Ivy came in, her eyes cutting between me and Killian. I sat up straight, thankful that I already had the blanket securely around me and I was sitting up.

If not, only God knows what she would have been thinking.

"Killian, why are you here with my daughter?" she asked, her voice tense.

I clutched the blanket in a tight grip.

Killian stood and brushed his hand down the front of his shirt. “I knew she was back from college,” he said, calm as ever. “I thought I’d stop by.”

Ivy shut the door and stood near it. “A visit? At this hour? In her be..." She trailed off, probably not wanting to suggest what she was thinking.

"She was cold," Killian said, stepping back from the bed. "She was shaking and wasn't ill. I ran her a bath and told her to sleep right after. I was in the living room, having left over food I got her... I came to check if she was asleep before leaving, but she wasn't. When she couldn't, I talked to her."

Ivy didn't glance away from him. "I hope it's not what I'm thinking."

"Nothing like that," Killian replied, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. "You and I have had tough times, perhaps even history, but you know I care about Aurelia. Like you do. The way you protect her from... A lot of things."

I had a feeling he was talking about something more.

Was Ivy protecting me from the truth?

"But I care about her too. Perhaps even more."

I looked at them, my chest tightening. There was tension in the air, more than one familiar fight. My mind ran wildly and I almost wondered if they had done something, anything, together, something horrible, but I couldn't think.

"I don't like the way this looks," Ivy said, advancing slowly. "Not one bit."

"You don't need to like it," Killian said. His voice remained flat. "You just need to know she's safe."

"She is my daughter," Ivy said, her gaze narrowing. "It's my job to keep her safe, not yours."

"I understand," Killian said, his eyes on me. "But sometimes duties overlap. We are inevitably getting married, aren't we?”