Page 110 of Kill Me Again: Psychics

Chapter Thirty-nine

Baxter

Lake brought Calisto’s car to a stop outside HMP Pentonville, squinting out of the window as if comparing it to the other prison we’d visited recently. Different brick—brown instead of Wakefield’s red—and less fortress-like, was my immediate thought. But a prison still.

I’d wanted to do this alone, but turning down Lake’s offer to drive with my arm still in a sling would have been stupid.

He cut the engine. “You don’t have to do this. We could just drive away.”

“I’m not scared of him. Not anymore.”

“Good.”

I leaned across and gave Lake a quick kiss before climbing out. When I glanced back from the gate, he’d already opened his laptop, his frown suggesting that whatever he’d just written wasn’t exactly filling him full of joy.

Although the security checks took time, it still felt too soon when they led me into the visiting room. I sat on the curved plastic chair, the black table between us. His gaze flicked over me, lingering a fraction longer on the sling, but he didn’t comment.

“You accepted my visit request,” I said, breaking the silence. “You knew I was coming.”

Owen gave a one-shouldered shrug. “That didn’t guarantee you’d turn up.” He leaned forward, exhibiting enough movement that a nearby officer shifted their position ever so slightly to keep him in view. “I thought you might chicken out.”

I regarded him silently. The air between us hummed with something strange and tangled—identical twins who weren’t identical, brothers who’d never gotten to know each other, victim and murderer. The list of contradictions felt endless. Ironically, for someone incarcerated, he looked better than the last time I’d seen him. Better groomed. Less haunted. More color in his cheeks.

His gaze drifted back to my sling. “I hope you’re not expecting me to thank you.”

“Would you rather be dead?” It was a question I’d pondered multiple times in the nine days since it had happened. It was one of the main reasons I was here. Lake called it closure. I called it curiosity. Closure would have been letting go and watching him plunge to his death.

Owen’s gaze slid to the empty chair next to me. “Where is lover boy? I thought you two were joined at the hip.” Something flickered in his eyes. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t know you’re here.”

“If you mean Lake, he’s waiting in the car.” I lifted my arm slightly within the confines of the sling. “I’m not allowed to drive until the doctor okays it.”

“What’s the damage?”

“Do you care?”

Another shrug. “Just making conversation.”

“Weakness and tingling mean I have nerve damage. I start physio in a couple of weeks.”

“You should have let go.”

“Probably.”

Owen sat up straighter. “Will you marry him?”

“Lake?”

“Who else?”

“Probably.”

“Bit old for you, isn’t he?” There was a provocation in Owen’s eyes. I met his stare without blinking and refused to give him the satisfaction of stating the obvious.

“I thought about killing him instead of Jamie.”

My fingers curled into fists before I forced them to relax. “If you had, I would have let go.”

That pleased him enough to smile. “See! We’re not so different, you and I.”