Page 49 of Kill Your Darlings

And no wonder.

Finn’s arms tightened and he whispered, “Keiran, Keir, don’t.Shhh.Keir.Shhh.Let me help you.”

I pulled myself together, drew back, wiped my face.“I…I just miss my cats,” I got out.

No.Well, yes.I did.But no.That was not what this was.Pain makes you crazy.That’s the truth.

His face was a white blur, but I felt his astonishment.“You…”

But therewasa certain truth in it.In a hard to explain way, my two rescue Siamese, Wing Ding and Sing Song, symbolized everything good in my life.The comfortable, civilized life I’d worked so hard to build—in some ways, to build out of thin air.

The life I’d had two days ago before the universe started to unravel.

“Well, you’ll see the cats in a couple of days, right?”Finn’s tone was reasonable, just as if this conversation hadn’t gone completely off the rails.His hands moved reassuringly on my back, smoothing the dampness of my shirt

I wiped my face again.“Yeah.”

“And they’re with the sitter.They’re safe.”

“Yes.”I pressed the heels of hands to my forehead as if I could push the pain back into the box.

“After you have a sleep, you can call the sitter and ask them to take a…a proof of life pic so that you can see the cats are fine.”

I knew he was teasing me.But his tone was kindly, like he was reasoning with a small child.He was also coming up with practical solutions for someone in distress, and I could appreciate that.

“Yeah.Thanks.I’m sorry I’m being an ass.”I sucked in a breath.“Everything’s okay now.You should get back.”

“Yep.On my way.Let me just help you get settled.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I nodded, blinked the tears from my eyes, and we headed for the bedroom, Finn guiding me around the obstacle course of the small dining area.

Outside the glass doors the moon hung low over the bay, half-shrouded in fog, its light threading through the mist like bullet holes between weathered slats.The building seemed to sway gently as the waves below rushed rhythmically against the pilings beneath the balcony.As I stared, a single gull wheeled past, a gray ghost in the gloom, like a silent-winged omen of—

Finn pulled the drapes across the glass doors with a single sweep.

The suite plunged into a soothing dusk.The vibration of the city beyond the windows faded to nothing.

I sank onto the edge of the bed and began to pluck at my bow tie with stiff fingers.It seemed an unreasonably complicated operation when all I wanted was to curl up in a ball.My skull felt like it was being crushed in a vise.

“Here.”Finn was back at my side, brushing my hands aside, picking expertly at the knot.“Let me.”

I let my hands fall to my lap.Finn worked quickly, silently, loosening the tie, unfastening the first few buttons of my shirt.He helped me shrug clumsily out of my jacket, slipping it from my shoulders and tossing it to the chair by the window.He unclipped my cufflinks, setting them with a soft clink on the nightstand.It was faster, easier to let him take care of this, so I sat silent and acquiescent.I didn’t understand why he was being so kind, given the things he’d said that morning.

He knelt to remove my shoes, and I stared down at the pale gleam of his head.

“You’re a good person,” I said.

He gave a funny half-laugh, half-snort.“Thanks.”

I managed the slacks on my own, barely, and then climbed onto the covers in my undershirt and boxers.I turned onto my side and curled slightly, one hand tucked under the pillow, the other pressing my temple like I could pin the pain in place.

But the pain seeped out from beneath my fingers, expanded.I could feel the angry pound of blood beneath my skin.

Finn bent over me.I could smell his cologne—Costa Azzurra—oceanic, cool, faintly herbal.The scent was weirdly grounding.

“Medication?”

I blinked, considering.“I don’t think I can keep it down yet.”