Lochlan

"She's asleep."

"Mmm," I replied, swirling the amber liquid in my tumbler while staring sightlessly into the cold fireplace.

Temperatures had been mild for New York City in November until this evening. The chill seeped through the glass. A perfect evening for a fire.

But I needed the cold. Needed it to keep my senses sharp and remind me of what my world would be like right now if today's events had played out differently. The only heat I would indulge in was the whiskey in my glass, and I welcomed the burn with every sip.

"I poked my head in on Millie. I think she's asleep too. Poor thing."

"Poor thing," I repeated, running the rim of my glass on my bottom lip before tossing back the entirety of its contents, earning a raised eyebrow from Alex.

"How many times have you told me good alcohol is for savoring, not shooting?"

"This is a do what I say, not what I do moment," I told him, rising to fill my cup. That might have been the most words I'd spoken in the last two hours. Since Marcus left. Since my already shit mood took a nosedive, and I barely managed to escort the man out of my home without driving my fist through his face for putting his lips on Millie.

"I know what you're doing," Alex said, taking the decanter from me and fixing his own beverage. Settling on the chair across from me, he rested an ankle on his knee, threw an arm over the back of the chair, and raised his glass in a mock salute. "Stop it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're beating yourself up for something you couldn't control."

"I knew it was a bad idea to let the two of them go out unchaperoned."

Alex chuckled darkly. "What year is it? Unchaperoned? I don't know Millie very well, but I know my mother... try telling her she needs a chaperone. Besides, you can't protect people from everything. Putting an alarm system in someone's house doesn't stop a fire from happening. Millie and that man made a dumb mistake."

According to the story she told. Alex didn't know about Melnyk, and there was absolutely no way I believed it was mere coincidence the accident occurred on the same street we had a confirmed sighting of the man. It proved what I suspected all along: Millie had dangerous secrets.

When I didn't reply to Alex, his forced cheeriness fizzled out, and a rare scowl twisted his sharp features. "Seriously. We can't do this again."

That caught my attention. "Do what?"

"This," he gestured toward me. "The blame thing. You've blamed yourself for Marianna's disappearance for over twenty years. You were eight. A fucking child."

Every word propelled its way through my defenses, stinging like the salt rock we used to throw at each other when we were kids, and I welcomed the pain. The Reeds were the only ones who could say such things without inciting my wrath, but only because I owed them everything–for the daughter they lost and the love I received after my father all but abandoned me.

"And you know what else–" Alex was on a roll. Displays of temper might be rare for the man, but when he got worked up, it took forever for him to run out of steam. "And I'm only saying this because I know you didn't listen to a damn thing I just said... You're going to beat yourself up because you weren't there today, but you were there then and it didn't change a thing. She was still taken. So grow up and stop thinking you're so goddamned important."

"Where are you going?" I asked as he headed toward the door, running both hands through his longer than necessary hair.

He glared at me. "I'm leaving."

"You could stay here. Your mom will look for you in the morning." When had I started sounding so broken and desperate?

"I'll be here before she wakes up. She'll be out for a long time after taking that sedative, and I have better company than you waiting for me at my place."

I let him leave without another protest. There was nothing I could say to make him stay, especially because he knew exactly what I was doing. Trying to keep my family under one roof so I could be responsible for their safety. He wasn't wrong about my need to control that, but he was wrong about the day going differently if I'd been there.

Opening my messages, I frowned when I saw no updates. James was pulling as many strings as he could to get legal access to the cameras in the area, but if he didn't get results soon, I would authorize any means necessary. I wanted to know precisely what happened today–not the censored bullshit Millie gave the cops.

Padding down the hallway, I rested my forehead against her door frame and fought against the urge to flip on the hallway light and open her door just to put eyes on her. It had been hours since I'd dragged her off the asphalt, but her scent clung to me, threading all the anger and fear I was feeling together with a rigid band of desire.

This lust was going to drive me mad. I had known desire before, but this... this was more than that. This was something desperate.

A craving.

Through the door I heard movement, and with a muffled curse, I moved away, slipping into the guest bathroom and barely pulling the door to a slit before her door opened. Her honey blonde hair felt around her face in waves, each strand a shimmer in the dimness as she peered up and down the hallway. Her arms went around her waist, and she inhaled deeply before retreating into the shadows of her bedroom and closing the door with a click.

"Fuck," I whispered, dropping my hands on the countertop and peering into the mirror. There was just enough light filtering in through the crack in the door to make my reflection visible, though it was a tenebrous thing–all hazy edges and gloom.

Everything was falling apart, and it had happened so quickly.

It all began with Millie, and I had a feeling it was going to end with her, too.