Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“You did.” Rex looks amused.
Hamish and Mina are gone. Rex must have sat here and let me nap on him.
I never thought I’d say this, but I hope he lets me nap on him again. Often.
But first, business. “What did I miss?”
“Fraternitas found the ambulance down the block from Ted’s apartment building, with the remains of Emily Rodriguez inside. Her body’s been returned to the morgue. Her family is making arrangements for a memorial service on Sunday.”
“I’d like to go.”
Rex nods as if he expected me to say that. “She was a nurse. I’ve instructed the Roy Foundation to set up a scholarship fund in her name.”
“She would’ve liked that.”
“The Green Street neighborhood has planted trees in honor of the family who died. We can do the same for your family in Elyria, if you’d like.”
“That would be nice.”
“I’ll make it happen.” He presses his lips to my forehead.
It feels like another ending, but one I chose. Closure. I don’t have to carry the burden of loss any longer. Rex and I can bury the dead and honor them, letting the memory of their love enrich our lives. As long as we feel their love, they will always be with me, and I can let the grief go.
Rex has more to say. I can feel the tension in his body.
“What is it?” I reach up to caress his face to put him more at ease.
“We need to deal with Ted’s body. How would you like us to handle it?”
“I don’t care.”
“We can stage a scene and make sure his body is found. Or we can just make him disappear forever.”
He’s waiting for me to put up a fuss and insist we bring in the police.
“You decide,” I shrug. “But whatever you do, let’s do it quietly. The news loves a serial killer and he doesn’t deserve to be famous. Let him be forgotten.”
Rex smiles like I knew he would. “Your wish is my command.” He looks absolutely villainous.
I roll my eyes, then sober. “There is one thing I’d like done. There’s a retired detective who told me about the Blackbird murders. I want him to know we closed the case.”
“Consider it done.” He hesitates, then says, “There are still questions about your involvement in BK’s death. Detective Bonds has some theories he’d like to confirm.”
“I’ll talk to him. Soon.” I feel no urgency to rush into work and wrap up the case. The only thing I want is to remain in bed or bed-adjacent with Rex for a solid month.
Another first for me. I’ve never thought I could get close to someone long enough to nap on them or want to be with them for longer than a scene. I might have longed for it, but I couldn’t have it. I was afraid that death would come to anyone I loved.
Now I want every moment. I want mornings and evenings and workday lunches, as well as nights in the dungeon. Naps and holding hands and deciding what’s for dinner. The quiet hours together when we’re relaxing or dressing for work or brushing our teeth before bed. The mundane details of the day. All the things Rex was ready for the minute we met. All the things I resisted while he wound his web around me, drawing me slowly in.
As for the fear, I don’t feel it anymore. Most of that lifted from my shoulders the second Rex saved me. The little that remained disappeared today when I took out the threat to Rex.
Our fate wasn’t fixed, and I did what was required. For once, I used my visions to rewrite the future. I’ve finally used my gift the way it should be used: saving people. Not seeking justice for the dead but stopping evil in its tracks. I fulfilled my purpose, my calling, and my reward is this new life.
So I did die on the roof. The old Inara is gone, and I am reborn. And I’m no longer afraid.
I can tell Rex all of this. More importantly, I’m going to show him. I’m going to be with him, all in. As all in as he’s been with me.
That’s why I’m not rushing back to work. My long days working on cases were an endless penance, a never-ending punishment for allowing my family to die. I don’t need to do that any longer.
No wonder I feel so free.
I wonder if Rex will ever feel the same freedom. If he will allow himself to heal deeply from the trauma of his childhood. I want that for him. Maybe I can help him.
I look up at his solemn face, his stony mask. He thought losing me was his worst nightmare, but what just happened was actually what he feared most: being out of control. He might need more help than I can give, but that’s okay. He can afford therapy.