Oh, I knew that it was just bad timing, just bad, dumb, stupid luck that Jillian had stepped out of the bathroom before I had. Maybe if it had been me instead, I would have been able to avoid Dixon and the bullets he'd wanted to put in my skull. Maybe I would have been able to use my Stone magic to harden my skin before he pulled the trigger. Maybe I would have been able to kill Dixon and Clementine before they hurt anyone else.
Or maybe I would have been just as dead as Jillian was.
Either way, I'd never know, and an innocent woman had paid the price instead of me.
Owen walked over to me. We stood there and watched while the coroner and one of his assistants carefully loaded Jillian into a body bag.
After a moment, he sighed. "A couple of hours ago, I was talking to her, laughing with her. And now she's gone. It doesn't seem possible. It doesn't seem real."
"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. We talked a little in the bathroom before . . . it happened. She seemed . . . nice."
"She was nice," Owen said. "But I never should have brought her here tonight. And not just because of Clementine and everything that happened."
"What do you mean?"
He turned to face me. "I mean that Jillian was just a friend. She was in town so we could work out the details of a new business arrangement, and I mentioned the gala in passing to her. She asked if she could come along with me and Eva, and I said yes. She made it clear tonight that she wanted to be more than just friends and business associates, but I didn't. It didn't . . . feel right."
I nodded, accepting his explanation about why he'd been here with Jillian. "And that kiss you gave me in the vault? Have you thought any more about that? Because that definitely wasn't just a friendly kiss."
He hesitated, and pain seeped into his rugged features once more. "That doesn't feel right either. Or maybe it feels too right. I don't know anymore, Gin. I just don't know."
"It's okay," I said, my heart breaking once again. "I understand."
And I did understand. I had plenty of things in my life that haunted me - memories of the people I'd killed, the torture I'd endured, the horrible things I'd done just to survive. It was hard to be happy when I always had so much weighing me down, hard to think that I deserved any kind of peace, light, or love in my life. Now Owen was struggling with the same feelings, the same emotions, when it came to Salina. He didn't feel like he had a right to move on yet.
Just like I couldn't move on from Jillian's death.
Sure, I'd killed Dixon, Opal, and Clementine, the masterminds behind her murder, but it wasn't going to bring her back. I'd avenged Jillian the only way I knew how, and it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough, and it was one more thing that I was just going to have to live with.
Owen stayed right beside me until the coroner zipped up the black body bag, hiding Jillian's ruined face from sight, and started pushing the cart out of the rotunda.
"I should go," he finally said. "See how Phillip and Eva are doing. And try to find out if Jillian has any family that I need to contact."
I nodded, not sure what to say.
Owen reached out and touched my hand. Once again, that treacherous hope flared to life in my chest, even as he let go.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "I should have come over and asked you before, but I was . . . thinking about things."
I smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant expression. "You know me, Owen. I always find a way to survive."
"Yes," he said, his voice catching on that one word. "You do."
He stared at me, and I looked back at him. All the care, concern, worry, and pain of the night had left its mark, etching deep, harsh lines into his face, but I thought he was more handsome than ever. On impulse, I reached up and cupped his cheek with my hand. Owen turned his head, caught my hand in his, and pressed a kiss to my palm, right in the center of my spider rune scar, despite the blood, sweat, and grime that still covered us both.
His violet eyes flared as bright as a star, and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Then his face shuttered, the light dimmed, and he dropped my hand.
"Owen?"
He tried to smile, but he couldn't quite make himself do it. "Take care of yourself, Gin. We'll talk soon, okay?"
All I could do was nod and watch as he turned and walked away from me.
Chapter 30
The Briartop heist dominated the airwaves and newspapers for the next few days. Story after story was written and broadcast about what had happened, about Clementine Barker and her plans, and how a few brave folks had banded together to eventually take down the robbers.
I let Bria and Xavier take all the credit for thwarting the giant and her crew. It was more or less the truth. After all, they were the ones who had saved the hostages. Besides, I had enough enemies already without getting my name splashed all over the newspaper or having some nosy reporter come barging into the Pork Pit trying to get an interview with me. Still, the rumors got out the way they always did, and I heard more than a few whispers about how deadly the Spider's sting had been to Clementine.