Page 63 of Wasted

“See you soon!” Sydney turned to wave at Victoria one more time, then followed Warren.

As the door closed behind them, Cillian felt Victoria’s attention on him. He looked at her out the corner of his eye. “What?”

“You seem to have bonded with Warren.”

He shrugged and angled to face her. “He liked my bike when he went out to smoke.”

Her slim eyebrows lifted. “What was he smoking?”

A smile tugged at Cillian’s mouth. She was so adorable sometimes. “Not everybody lives by the rules like you do, Vicks.”

She folded her arms over her purple turtleneck. “Do you still smoke?”

“No.” He’d quit for the sake of his health and, probably most of all, because every time he’d lit up after leaving, he saw her disapproving, wide-eyed stare in his memory. “But you know I never smoked pot or anything like that, right?”

“Yes, I know.” Her hazel eyes softened as she lowered her arms. She remembered. Knew why that mattered to him. “How is your mother?”

Yeah, she knew. He looked away. “She OD’d.”

Silence fell between them, the clicking of the clock filling the void in the empty lobby.

“I’m so sorry.” Sadness—more than the news deserved—colored her tone. “When?”

He thought back. He’d been in California. Just had his twenty-first birthday. “Twelve years ago.”

Another pause. “I’m truly sorry.”

He mustered a rueful smile. “It’s not a big deal. You’ve already done enough today to qualify for angel status, if that’s what you’re going for.”

She tilted her head slightly. “More like Christ-likeness.”

He watched her.

She didn’t blush when she mentioned God or Christianity like she used to when they’d dated. She met his gaze without flinching or blinking.

“You’re still into that.”

“It’s who I am, Whom I belong to. I’ll never not be into Christ and Christianity.”

“You don’t need that crutch.”

“I’ve learned not to try to navigate life on my own. His wisdom and strength are so much greater than mine.”

“He’s not going to get you out of being suspected for murder.”

She didn’t hesitate or look away. “He will if He wants to.”

Cillian held her gaze. Searched her captivating eyes. She really seemed to mean all that. To believe it.

But Cillian didn’t need God to tell him what he should do with his life or in any situation. His instincts and mind served him well. He’d been able to tell what needed to be done, what should be done to right the wrongs in this world, since he’d been a kid.

“Well, I want to get you out of this.” He gave Victoria a sideways smile. “Mind if I try to help?”

She returned his amused expression with one of her own. “I suppose not, though God doesn’t need your help, of course.”

“If you say so.” Cillian shook his head side to side. “My little pea brain says we should go to the Briscoe estate again to look for evidence. You game?” Probably poor choice of words to use with Victoria.

But she observed him for a few silent seconds. “Only if you promise I won’t get knocked over this time.” The twinkle in her eyes gave away the teasing as she kept a straight face.