Might as well be honest with him about what really happened. Her chin quivered so hard she wouldn’t have been surprised if it fell off her face and flopped around on the table like a dead fish. Her throat constricted, imprisoning the words she needed to say. She forced herself to look at him while she spoke of her deepest shame. “Guilty. I’ll never stop feeling guilty over Gran’s death.” Her vision went wet and watery. A tear from each eye raced each other down her cheeks. She had thought there were no more tears to cry, but obviously she’d been wrong.
The entire story overflowed the dam she’d built around it. Her words were fast and rushed as she told him what had happened—everything—and she didn’t dare look at him until she’d said it all. “Xander, I-I watched her die and did nothing.” The words jumbled out of her mouth, mixing with the sound of a sob.
“What?” The word exploded into the room. Her heart startled from the suddenness of it. His grip on her hand went almost painful. “Baby, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t help it.”
Sincerity dominated his features. Which only made this all the harder.
“I watched him pour that poison in her mouth. And I didn’t stop him.” Saying it out loud, hearing her own words, hurt like a dull, serrated blade sawing and sawing until it finally tore deep enough to open a vein. After a moment, the pain eased, then dulled, and she felt oddly lighter. Maybe that was because he hadn’t let go of her hand. Maybe it was because his expression hadn’t changed. She had expected revulsion. Disgust. Aversion. Not him gently squeezing her hand and his eyes softening with compassion. Compassion? Huh?
“That’s not exactly what happened.” He enunciated each word clearly as if her merely hearing him would change reality.
“Oh, Xander. I don’t have the energy to argue with you over it. I know what happened.”
He reached across the table with his free hand and brushed his fingers through the tear streaks on her cheek. His fingertips were rough against her skin, the friction so sweet and fierce her heart swelled with longing for more of him.
“You are wrong. I’ll prove it to you.” Without letting go of her hand, he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket, hit a button, and held it to his ear. “Yeah. I need a copy of my interrogations of Simon Smith and William Goodspeed.”
“Goodspeed?” She blurted out the name. “You interrogated him?” Was it the same Mr. Goodspeed? Why had Xander interrogated him?
“Hold on.” Xander spoke into the phone and then turned his full attention on her. “I’m an interrogation expert for the Ohio Bureau of Criminal Investigation.”
“Oh…” How did she not know that? Another emotion joined her guilt—curiosity. Xander had interrogated Mr. Goodspeed? Before he killed everyone? The coincidence of it was a bit surprising, but what did that have to do with Gran?
“I’m back.” He listened for a moment. “Of course I need them right now. As in right this goddamned second.” Xander’s tone was about two levels lower than mere nasty. “It’s for Isleen. She needs to see them to understand what’s going on.” There was a slight pause while he listened. “Are you fucking kidding me? This isn’t junior high. Jesus fucking Christ. Kent says to tell you hi, and that he and Killer will be stopping by tonight for a visit.”
Despite her guilt and curiosity, despite the confession she needed to give to Kent, just thinking about Killer’s sweet little doggy face lightened her mood and stretched her mouth into a smile. And here she had been thinking she’d never smile again.
“Tell him I said hi, and that I can’t wait to see them both.”
Xander rolled his eyes so far back in his head she thought they might get lost in his brain cavity. “You heard her, right? Yeah. She’s better. A lot better. She’s even smiling.” His voice softened, and his gaze was warm when it landed on her. “Just send the files.” He ended the call.
“Why are you so mean to him?”
“He’s an asshole.”
“So are you.”
He chuckled. “Damn. I guess you really are feeling better.”
“Kent tried to help me. Told me I needed to talk about things before I destroyed my future. He was right. If I had actually talked about what happened, maybe Gran would still be alive.”
“I think you’re confused about what’s real. And I’m about to prove it to you.” He seemed so sincere that she wanted to believe him, but her memory wouldn’t lie. Would it? “I need to explain what you’re about to see.” His hand around hers squeezed, then released—almost a quick imploring for her understanding. “Being struck by lightning did more than just scar me up. It supercharged my hearing, and now when I’m around people, my brain connects to their frequency and I can hear what they are thinking.”
She stared at him, knowing her mouth was hanging open a bit, and yet not being able to close it as her own brain struggled to understand his words. What he was telling her seemed impossible, but that didn’t matter. She believed him as truly as if it were her truth, not his. And that meant—oh gosh. Oh no. “So you’ve been hearing my thoughts from the moment we met?”