pang of sadness hit her, for the little boy he never was, for the man he had never become. The brother he’d not known how to be. And yet, something inside him had wanted desperately to free her and Mady from the violence. From evil. There had been some good inside the man in front of her. Warped, but there.
You’ve suffered enough now. “You’re going to be free, Julian,” she whispered. Free. Free. Something that her brother had never experienced, not a day in his life. “Be at peace,” she said, her voice gritty. She laid his hand back down on the white sheet, and then Liza stood, and with Reed beside her she left the room.
**********
“Here you go,” Reed said, and Liza turned her head as he entered the room carrying a glass of wine. She took the glass from him and brought it to her nose, inhaling the smooth red with a warm hint of cherry.
“Thanks,” she said. He joined her on the couch in his living room, having met him at his apartment after leaving the hospital.
He’d picked up sushi on the way and they’d sat at his kitchen table eating. They hadn’t talked a lot, but Liza had appreciated that as she’d needed the time to both decompress, and put her thoughts and some of her emotions in order.
“That sushi was not what I meant by dinner, by the way,” he said. “I’m still going to take you somewhere where we don’t have to eat out of plastic containers, but I thought you could use something less public tonight.”
She smiled at him. “Yes, I appreciate it. And the sushi was great. Thanks.”
He studied her as she took another sip of wine, enjoying the richness as it slid down her throat and warmed her belly. “Are you really okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I am.” She paused for a moment. “I don’t feel a loss. I . . . never really knew my brother, and I never had a relationship with him. For all my adult life, I was afraid of him. That . . . changed the other day. But I still wouldn’t have had a relationship with Julian.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just . . . sad about who he might have been if he hadn’t been born in that house.” A small shiver went through her as the vision of the place of her nightmares rose before her. “He never stood a chance,” she murmured. “What he did, that night, was horrible and violent, but . . . he was a victim too, Reed.” She set her wine on the table, turning more fully to him. “Mostly though, I want to know why. Why was he targeted? Why him?”
“I wish I could tell you,” Reed said with a frustrated huff of breath. “The only thing I can come up with is that by finding this killer’s first victim, you somehow . . . God, I don’t know, caught his attention? Maybe he looked into you, or . . .” He shook his head, his jaw tight. “I don’t know, Liza. But the two things have got to be connected. I just can’t figure out why or how.” He paused for a moment. “We have a few witnesses who saw your brother being led up the stairwell by a tall man they described as brawny. None of them got a glimpse of his face, just his size, but in retrospect, they think he might have been holding a weapon on your brother.”
“Oh God.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head.
He watched her. “This is the first crime by this suspect where we have witness testimony. It makes this particular crime feel more . . . unplanned than the others.”
Liza chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “It would’ve had to have been, right? Julian was only recently released from prison.”
“Yes, exactly. But we’ll have to look into him further—who his friends were on the inside, whether he made any enemies.” He rubbed at his eye. He looked angry, and frustrated, and bone-tired, and a burst of tenderness lit inside Liza.
She nodded, stifling a yawn of her own. God, it’d been a long day. A long, emotional, confusing, tiring day and she was exhausted too. “I should go.”
Reed pulled himself straight. “Stay here.”
Liza’s heart picked up speed and her lips parted to say . . . what, she wasn’t sure. But he beat her to it. “Arryn’s back home with Josie and Zach.” He