Page 37 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

I nara

I sit in my situation room with Lacy Collins’s old murder book in front of me. Rex and Hamish are holed up nearby in a makeshift office, dealing with the details of our plan. My role is done, so I’m paging through Lacy’s notes, still unable to focus.

I’m in the first few hours of being a dead person, and it’s both a relief and a burden.

My phone’s blown up with messages from colleagues.

I can see them come through, although I can’t answer because the official story is that my phone was destroyed in the explosion.

The frantic phone calls from Diego Silva and Agent Larsen are the hardest to ignore, even though it’s necessary.

Even Bonds called twice but left no message.

At least Hamish and Rex agreed to loop Mina in.

It’s a relief not to have to lie to everyone and worry about how Mina might feel.

To pull off Hamish’s plan, Rex went ahead and released preliminary data that I was seen in Burgess’s vehicle. The news is speculating that we both were there to investigate a lead in a murder case when a “terrible tragedy” took place.

Unfortunately, this requires Rex to play a shocked and grieving widower. He’s been on the phone with his staff ever since. I’m trying to give him space, although I’m wondering if that’s a mistake. He’s roleplaying his worst nightmare.

I’m twisting the ring on my finger, fiddling with the giant rock he gave me, when the vision rocks me.

Smoke billows around me. My eyes sting with it. I taste ash, flinching as the sparks fly in my face and burning flecks bite my skin.

“Inara!” Someone is shouting. It’s Rex, and I’m seized with incredible terror. Not for myself, but for him. Death is coming for one of us, and I have a choice to make.

I open my arms and let myself fall.

My hand slaps the table in front of me, and the vision clears. I feel like I’m still falling, the sensation strong enough that I needed to catch myself before I face-planted on the files I was reading.

My visions are coming faster. They’re a warning, and I have the sinking feeling that they’re heralding my doom.

“Detective,” Hamish says from behind me.

I fumble to close the murder book as if I’m a school child caught daydreaming, then realize how ridiculous this is and turn towards him.

He holds up his cell phone. “I have Detective Lacy Collins on the line.”

I can’t talk to her because I have to pretend I’m dead.

I must look confused because he explains, “She’s been fully vetted, so I’ve been keeping her abreast of the situation. We connected when I requested her notes and have kept in touch ever since. She heard about the explosion, but I was able to reach her before she called your cell.”

What is he saying? “So she knows?”

“She knows everything I know,” Hamish says, and a flood of relief weakens my limbs to the point where I slump in the chair. “I think it’s wise to keep her informed. I believe we can count on her discretion.” Is that a hint of warmth and respect in Hamish’s normally stuffy tone?

I nod. Lacy is a steel trap. She was the only woman detective in her department for a decade, and based on the stories she told me, she learned the hard way to keep her own counsel. I trust her.

“She’d like to speak to you if that’s all right. She might be able to tell us more about the accelerants found in the rubble of the Bondage Killer’s last hideout.”

Right. She’s still a key part of this case. But my hand trembles when I reach for Hamish’s phone. I haven’t spoken to her in so long.

“Inara?” I don’t know what I was expecting, but hearing her familiar deep voice is like coming home.

I splay a hand over her notes as if touching them will connect me to her. “I’m here.” My throat is closing. There’s so much I want to say— I’m sorry, I’m okay, please understand what I’ve done— but I’m too overwhelmed.

“Thank goodness you’re okay.” Lacy is normally very stoic, unfazed by the decades of horrible cases she’s worked on, but I can hear the relief in her tone. “Hamish told me about your partner.”

No one knows about Burgess’s betrayal. Not anyone in the department or the news. There’s no proof other than my testimony, and I’m happy to let people think he died in the warehouse tracking the Bondage Killer.

“He filled me in and gave me his private number, and I called him after I heard about the explosion.”

“You were right. He had an in with the cops.” I don’t have to say who he is. “Just like before.”

“Any leads?”

I close my eyes. “No. He’s still a ghost.”

“He’s not. He’s a man, and he makes mistakes.”

I want to believe her. BK looms large in my nightmares and seems omniscient. Always several steps ahead of even Rex.

He almost killed us.

“Inara. Listen to me.” My mentor’s voice is as steely as it’s ever been. “You can’t blame yourself.”

“It is my fault. I should’ve seen it coming.” I did. I had glimpses of Burgess in my visions, I just didn’t put it together.

“No, it’s not. You have to believe me when I tell you it’s not.

” Her voice softens. “I know why you’re a detective.

I know that you’ve been trying to atone for your family’s deaths all this time.

I know because I was the same.” Lacy signed up to be a policewoman after her friend died in a brutal assault.

“But you can’t let guilt drive you. It’s a distraction.

It will steal your sleep and your sanity if you let it.

You help people better when you’re healed. When you’re thinking clearly.”

I stay silent because she’s making sense. I haven’t been able to sleep through the night, and it’s affecting everything.

“You’re beating yourself up because you think it might do some good. But it doesn’t. And even if it did, you’re worth the healing.” She sighs. “It took me a long time to let go of my own shit. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to teach you to do the same.”

She’s teaching me now, I realize, and it might be enough.

“Promise me that you won’t spend one more second in guilt if you can help it. The faster you release it, the better your life will be.”

I can tell Lacy imagines a long life for me. I don’t know how to tell her I haven’t considered that I might live for much longer.

“You’re going to get this guy. It’s only a matter of time.

But you know how to get revenge? You live, Inara.

You live long and you live well. That’s what your family would want.

That’s what I want for you.” Her voice cracks, and I choke back my own emotions.

I can imagine her here, her graying hair pulled back in a bun, her blue eyes intent on mine.

“We’re all rooting for you. And. . . you’re so precious to me.

You were a gift, and I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you that sooner. ”

My sinuses are tight with oncoming tears. I cover my mouth to keep in a sob.

“You did,” I say when I can speak without fear of losing it. “You didn’t have to say it; you showed it. You saved me.”

“I could’ve told you,” she says briskly. “I was too much of a hard ass.”

I gasp out a laugh. “You were not.” She could be stern and closed off, but that was just her way of dealing with the horrors of her career. She’d seen things that would give grown men nightmares.

“I was. But now I’m in therapy and think you should be too.”

“Noted.” My eyes tingle, but I’m smiling. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch.”

“I understand. You probably had your own reasons. But don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” On impulse, I add, “I’m married now.”

“I heard,” she says drily. “I assume my invitation got lost in the mail.”

“We didn’t have a wedding. But, if we do in the future, I’d like you to come.”

“I’ll be there. Now, I’ll let you go. I know you’re busy.”

“I’ll be in touch,” I promise, and I intend to keep it. We end the call, and I hand Hamish’s phone back, savoring the warmth that’s flooding through me.

I thought I had to keep my distance to keep my loved ones safe. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I can let people in. Maybe it’ll turn out all right.

There’s a noise behind me, and I turn, expecting to see Hamish. Instead, it’s Rex. His face is a study of shadow, harsh planes like the craggy, uncompromising face of a mountain.

He needs me, I realize. He needs me as much as I need him.

“Come to bed with me.” I hold out my hand. He comes over and takes it, his huge hand swallowing mine. Something settles between us. We’re in this together, and no matter what, we’ll be okay.

A blast of excruciating heat, strong enough to sear my flesh from my bones. I whirl and spread my arms like wings and leap into the cool air.

I’m falling from a great height. There’s no sound, only the sensation of surrender. Everything will be over soon ? —

I flail, jerking upright out of the dream. Rex is right next to me, sitting up and turning to comfort me.

I cringe away from him at first, not wanting him to touch me. I’ve seen the same thing over and over, and I’m afraid of what it means.

I just got him. I just realized I could allow myself to be with someone. Please. I pray to the gods who have never listened and never will. My fate was woven from the start, and it seems I’m headed to my death.

“Another dream?” Rex asks.

“No. . .” I need to tell him about my visions. It’s not fair. I almost died and almost lost him. That sacrifice should be enough. “It was more than that.”

He waits for me to explain, opening his arms when I turn to him. My limbs are chilled and clammy with sweat. His heat surrounds me and draws me further into the room, out of the dream.

I’m safe here. Rex is here. His presence makes the darkness a gentle comfort.

“I need to tell you something. Something I’ve never told anyone.” There are so many reasons I’ve hidden this part of myself. It’s a curse and makes me feel like a freak. “But I don’t want to burden you.”

“I want it all.” He means it.

There’s a long silence, but I don’t feel afraid. Telling him everything feels right, like everything’s sliding into place. “Okay. I’ll tell you. But I have to start at the beginning.”

I shift in his arms, turning to face him.

He rests his hands on my back. “I see things. Visions. I told you I have. . . instincts, but it’s more than that.

I get glimpses of what happened at a crime scene.

But not only that.” I’ve spent so long keeping this secret locked away.

It’s hard to continue, but his quiet attention compels me.

“I’ll see visions of the future sometimes.

The way a crime will unfold. It’s almost like I’m being given the vision so I can stop it from happening. ”

“That’s incredible.”

“No, it’s not. Because I can’t. I fail.” I clench my teeth.

“Shhh,” he brushes a hand over my hair. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not. They started the night. . .” I can’t say it.

“ The night,” he says for me. He knows the night I’m referring to.

“Yes. The night. . . he came.” Shards of glass line my throat, but I make myself say it. “The night my family died.”