Chapter 58 #2
I swallowed. “She knew me before I was Fiona.”
The thought had followed me since yesterday but saying it made the enormity of it settle deeper.
Kyllian had known a version of me I couldn’t remember.
She had heard Kaylah call me Kaitlyn Grace.
She had been there at the beginning, before Isaac, before my parents, before Fiona Mitchell existed.
There were things about me that only she might know.
Tiny things. Useless things. Things I suddenly wanted more than I could explain.
“Do you think she remembers what I was like?”
Jasper frowned slightly. “As a baby?”
I nodded. “Did I cry all the time? Was I quiet? Did Kaylah hold me a certain way because it was the only thing that made me stop? Stupid stuff.”
“Ain’t stupid.”
“It kind of is.”
“No.” Jasper reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s your beginnin’. You’re allowed to want it.”
My eyes burned. I looked down at Kyllian again. “She might know.”
“She might.”
That possibility frightened me almost as much as it comforted me. Because getting those answers meant speaking to her. And speaking to her meant she would become more than a photograph.
I set the phone down. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
Jasper didn’t ask what this meant. Instead, he pushed the phone farther away and held me closer. “Then don’t.”
I stared at him. “That simple?”
“Yep.”
“They’ve been looking for me.”
“I know.”
“Banshee promised her he’d find me.”
“I know that too.”
“And Angel has been searching.”
“Still doesn’t mean you owe anybody somethin’ before you’re ready.”
I looked down at his arms wrapped around me. “That sounds selfish.”
“No, it sounds like you found out two days ago that your entire goddamn family tree is different than you thought.”
A reluctant smile tugged at my mouth. Jasper caught it immediately.
“There she is.”
“Don’t.”
“Wasn’t gonna say anythin’.”
“You already did.”
His grin appeared, and for the first time that morning, the pressure in the room eased. I leaned into him and looked at the phone again. Three photographs. Three strangers. Three people connected to a name I had never known belonged to me.
“What would you do?”
Jasper’s smile disappeared. I regretted asking almost immediately because I knew what he would say. Jasper had been careful since yesterday not to push me toward any decision. I also knew him well enough to know he had an opinion.
“I asked what you would do,” I added. “Not what you think I should do.”
He studied me for a moment before leaning back. “If it was me, I’d probably need to know.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m nosy as fuck.” His mouth twitched before he became serious again. “But I’d also be pissed if somebody decided I had to have the conversation before I was ready. There’s a difference between tellin’ them you’ve been found and handin’ them your phone number.”
I looked toward the window. That difference settled slowly. I had been thinking about the choice as all or nothing. Either they continued searching, or I opened the door and let them into my life. It didn’t have to work that way.
“I could tell them I’m safe.”
Jasper nodded but stayed quiet.
“Nothing else.”
“Whatever you want.”
“King could tell them Carly found Kaitlyn Grace.” I hated how strange it felt referring to myself that way. “He could tell them I know who they are and I’m not ready to talk to anyone.”
“He can.”
“No phone number.”
“Nope.”
“No location.”
“Fuck no.”
I looked at him. That last part made me smile despite myself.
“I’m serious, Jasper.”
“So am I.”
I thought about Banshee’s photograph again.
A man searching for his niece because he promised his sister’s daughter he wouldn’t stop.
Then Angel, who had spent two years looking for Kaylah before ever knowing the baby survived.
And Kyllian, carrying a memory of a baby sister somewhere inside her life.
I didn’t want them searching tonight.
That realization came quietly.
I still wasn’t ready to hear their voices. I wasn’t ready for anyone to call me daughter or niece or sister. I didn’t know if I ever wanted Angel to be anything other than Marcus Ryker, the man whose blood I happened to share. But I didn’t need him wondering where Kaitlyn Grace was anymore.
“Tell King.”
Jasper searched my face. “You sure?”
“No.” I took a breath. “But tell him anyway.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I’m not sure about any of this,” I explained. “I don’t think waiting until I magically feel sure is going to work.”
Something warm moved through his expression. “Probably not.”
“Tell them I’m alive. I’m safe. I know they’ve been looking for me.” My throat tightened, and I had to stop for a second before finishing. “Tell them I need time.”
Jasper squeezed my hand. “That’s exactly what he’ll tell them.”
I nodded. The decision left me strangely hollow after carrying so much emotion around it. Jasper picked up the burner but didn’t dial immediately.
“Want me to do it now?”
I looked at the screen one last time. Kyllian’s photograph was still there. “Yes.”
He stepped onto the porch for privacy I hadn’t asked for but appreciated.
Through the screen, I watched him walk toward the dock before lifting the phone.
I couldn’t hear the conversation, which was probably better.
I didn’t need to hear King react or imagine what he might say to Banshee and Angel later. My part was done. For now.
I went outside after Jasper finished and found him sitting at the end of the dock with his boots planted against the weathered boards. He looked over when I approached but didn’t immediately tell me what King said. Instead, he held out his hand. I sat beside him and placed mine in it.
“Done?” I asked.
“Done.”
“That’s it?”
“King said he’ll handle it exactly how you asked. They get told you’re alive, safe, and you’ll contact them when you’re ready.”
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “No argument?”
“Not from King.”
“What about them?”
“They haven’t been told yet.”
I nodded and stared across the water. That was enough. Maybe tomorrow I would regret it. Maybe the moment I knew Angel and Banshee understood who Fiona was, I would want to hide even deeper in the bayou. Today, I felt lighter.
Jasper leaned back on one hand. “You hungry?”
I turned toward him. “That’s your transition?”
“You spent the mornin’ emotionally rearrangin’ your entire family. Seemed rude to let you starve.”
A laugh escaped me. He grinned.
“There she fuckin’ is.”
I nudged his shoulder with mine. “You’re annoying.”
“Married me anyway.”
We stayed on the dock after that, and for the first time since arriving, Jasper told me about the bayou without me having to drag the stories out of him.
He pointed toward a narrow channel almost hidden behind the trees and told me he and Gator had once gotten a boat stuck there badly enough that they spent half a day waist-deep in mud trying to free it.
Another story involved a fishing trip, three boys, absolutely no adult supervision, and a decision involving fireworks Jasper refused to describe because, according to him, the statute of limitations probably had not expired.
I listened and tried to picture him younger. Not Romeo. Not a Silver Shadow. Jasper. A boy running through Louisiana with his cousins, getting filthy, making terrible decisions, and returning home to women who apparently knew exactly how much trouble they could find.
The stories did something I hadn’t expected. Yesterday had been about discovering the life that came before Fiona. Today, Jasper gave me pieces of the life that came before Romeo.
By late afternoon, I had stopped checking the water every time something moved.
Jasper grilled something outside that probably contained more seasoning than any human being needed, and I helped prepare the rest while he complained that I was cutting things wrong.
I reminded him that if he wanted them cut correctly, he was welcome to do it himself.
He wisely shut up.
Nothing happened. The burner didn’t ring. No boats appeared around the bend. Nobody came looking for us.
King still had nothing.
Gator still had nothing.
Sal had heard nothing.
For the first time, I allowed myself to wonder if the dark SUV had simply been another vehicle traveling some of the same roads.
Jasper had noticed it because he was already worried about me.
I had become frightened because I saw his reaction.
Maybe that was all it had ever been. I didn’t know. Neither did Jasper, and that mattered.
As evening settled over the bayou, turning the water darker beneath the trees, I carried two drinks out to the porch and found him leaning against the railing.
For the first time since we arrived, I didn’t feel like I was waiting for the next thing to go wrong.
I handed him one of the glasses and moved beside him, letting the quiet stretch between us.
Jasper looked over at me. “You okay?”
“I think so.” I leaned against his shoulder and watched the water move beneath the trees. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow yet.”
His arm came around me. “Then don’t.”
I smiled against his chest. For once, there was nowhere we had to be, nobody demanding answers, and nothing we could do except wait for everyone else to figure out what they knew.
So we stayed.
For now, the bayou could belong to us.