“And?”
“Harris said they didn’t have probable cause to arrest him. He had an alibi—at home with his father all night.”
The soup wanted to come back up. I set the bowl on my nightstand.
“Shiloh…” Bibi said as I slunk under the covers and curled in a ball.
“I’m tired. I just want to sleep a little more, okay?”
I heard her sigh, and I hated that she worried about me but not enough to sit up and eat her soup and pretend like my life wasn’t falling apart.
The bed dipped as Bibi left. The tears threatened again, but I dove into sleep before the grief could find me.
When I woke next, it was dark, and Ronan was where I’d seen him last—sitting on the floor as if he were waiting for me.
“Hey,” I said softly.
His head came up instantly, and he unfolded his tall body to sit at the foot of my bed. “Hey. How do you feel?”
“That’s a loaded question.” I sat up, toyed with the coverlet. “I’m having a hard time not wallowing in self-pity, honestly. Part of me wants to get up and go to the shop and work. Work even harder… But part of me wants to curl up under the covers and not come out.”
“I know.”
“Bibi said Frankie wasn’t arrested.”
“No, he wasn’t.” Ronan’s voice was still and dangerous, like black water.
“But you’re sure it was him?”
He nodded.
I sighed. “Guess it doesn’t matter. It’s done.”
“I’m handling it,” Ronan said.
Something in the way he said that made me shiver. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do. It’s my fault.”
“Yours? How?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I plucked at the cover. He was down at the foot of my bed, and I was at the head, and he wasn’t touching me. He wanted to leave; I could practically feel it vibrating off him. And then I couldn’t take any more. Losing him…
“You don’t have to stay,” I said, the swell of emotion beginning to rise like a river threatening to overrun its banks. “In fact…” I swallowed the tears, but they gathered behind my eyes with a hot, achy pressure. “If you don’t want to see me anymore, I’ll understand.”
His head whipped up to look at me. “What?”
I shook my head, my gaze on my hands. My hands that were like my mother’s but withhisblood flowing underneath. “After what Mama said… I get it. I can hardly stand myself right now.”
Ronan shot off the end of the bed to sit beside me. His hands gripped my shoulders, then slipped up over my cheeks, holding my face. “Fuck, Shiloh, no.”
I shook my head, the first tears spilling over and running down to his fingers. “I think I knew. I think I always knew, somewhere down deep. So I tried so hard to prove I was…more. That I had a purpose here.” The sobs were in my chest now, stealing my breath, tearing my voice to tatters. “But she could never stand to look at me, and I… I get it now. My whole life…it’s her pain. That’s what I am. I’m a walking, talking reminder of that night… Half of me ishim. A monster.”
The dam burst, and the sobs poured out. Racking, choking sobs I’d been holding in for years. Stagnant and poisonous. Ronan’s arms went around me, and he pulled me into him. Held me tight so that I could collapse. At long last, I fell apart. I cried like I’d never let myself cry, and he held the broken pieces of me together.
“You’re not,” he said gruffly into my hair. “You’re so fucking beautiful, inside and out. And brave, Shiloh. So brave.”