8
“First, I need another drink.” Delia stood and went to the kitchen.
Knowing I would end up crashing if I stayed quiet and alone, I followed her. The movement would keep me awake. In the kitchen, I noticed the back door was half open. In his haste to leave, Killian hadn’t closed the door. I stared out, at the chilly, dark night, and imagined him zipping in the woods, hunting deer. His teeth sinking into their skins. The animals dying at his hands.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I closed the door.
On the other side of the kitchen’s island, Delia braided her long hair and tied the shawl more securely around her shoulders. She poured whiskey into her glass to the brim. “Will you join me?”
I shook my head and grabbed the kettle from over the range. “No, I can’t. A drink like that will real
