Breathe

Chapter 26

Lucie

It took a few moments for me to move.

I was lost, completely lost, rendered immobile by the sight of Eden's blood dripping onto the floor and of Cian's retreating form. He was gone. I'd watched him go at Nick's side, disappearing into the dark of the stage.

And I hadn't moved.

And I couldn't move.

This may be my last chance for a while. His plans had been right in front of me. If only I hadn't been stupid enough to let him distract me, I could have stopped this. He would still be here. But, no, he was gone, and there was no telling if he'd come back at all. The thought sunk inside of me like a stone, and I finally turned away, barreling through the crowd.

The fallen angels and Silhouettes didn't care, merely stepped out of my way as I headed for the exit. I had to get home, I had to get—no. I had to see Vinny.

A bitter taste began to form in my mouth. He couldn't have known, could he?

I rushed past the front doors, startling the Silhouette that was standing guard. The night air enveloped me, cloaking me in cool sea breezes and shrouding me in the dark. I kept going, didn't slow myself until Cian's Escalade was but a few feet from me. That was when I heard it, the jingle in my pocket.

I stopped, searched around in my coat for the source of the noise. My fingers closed around car keys—Cian's car keys.

Moonlight glinted off of them as I held them in my palm, and I closed my eyes, as if not looking would somehow stow the frustration rising within me. I didn't know when, but at some time, he'd dropped these in my pocket. He'd wanted to make sure I'd have a way to get home.

Even when he was annoying, he was a gentleman.

The tears fell.

I gritted my teeth against the pain, against the persistent question of what this meant now. Tightening my grip on the keys, I unlocked the car, swinging myself in the driver's seat.

It didn't feel right, to sit in a place that was so rightfully Cian's. The seat's height and position and proximity to the steering wheel were all at his setting, accustomed to his needs and wants. The more I lingered there, even, the more I realized the leather of the car's interior was doused with the scent of Cian, as if the seats had soaked him in. Putting the keys in the ignition, I gave it a jerk, and the engine roared to life, a quiet yet effective symphony of moving parts. The radio switched on, tuned to Cian's favorite seventies station.

I shivered, and stepped on it.

The Hornes' patio light was flickering when I reached the house, fleeting images of white paint and potted plants and the woolen welcome mat. I left my jacket in the car, hopping down to the concrete and crossing the cobblestone walkway.

The door was unlocked, and at first, I heard no noise as I stepped into the dim foyer. When the click of the door shutting ceased, however, there came a low warble of voices. It was only after I realized I didn't recognize any of them that it became obvious they were from the television.

I made my way through the hall. The parlor door was shut, yet there was a light on underneath it, a sliver of yellow in the darkness. I frowned, not recalling having seen Mrs. Horne since Cian and Vinny's dad had walked out. The family was in enough pain, and Cian, the jerk, had to go and make everything worse.