Page 11 of Unbound

A mind that gets tunnel vision at the sight of hot pink polish on her delicate toes where they balance on the crossbar of the stool.

Bringing Sybil here was the only realistic option, but I’m starting to realize what a bad fucking idea it was. I assumed her lies and deception would crush the attraction I’ve had for her since the first day she showed up in my department.

I assumed incorrectly.

Which is why I leave her in the kitchen while the coffee brews to retrieve another pair of sweats. Dropping them on the counter in front of her as I pass on my way to grab a set of cups, I growl, “Put those on.”

“Thank you.” Her voice is almost as soft as the rustling of fabric as she pulls on the pants while I pour us each a cup of coffee.

And try to get my head and body back in line.

Once I’m sure she’s covered, I turn to slide her coffee across the island. Taking a sip of my own, I down as much of the scalding liquid as I possibly can in the hopes it will keep me from fully losing my grip on this situation.

Sybil cups her mug in both hands, but doesn’t drink. She stares down into the steaming darkness as she says, “I’m not here to hurt you or your family, Walker.”

I want to believe her, but she hasn’t given me any reason to, so I’m skeptical at best. Suspicious at worst. “Why are you here, then?”

Her big blue eyes lift to mine. “For answers.”

I take a deep breath, pretty sure I’m not gonna like what’s coming. “Answers about what?”

Sybil’s eyes hold mine as the seconds tick past. Like she’s weighing her options. Deciding how much to tell me, and how much to hold back.

Suddenly, her focus drops, going back to the mug. “Answers about the day my dad died.”

I didn’t expect to be hit with a ghost so close to the ones who haunt my past, and it slams into me, sending me staggering back a step.

Sybil peeks through her dark lashes at me, watching as I try to regain my equilibrium. I end up leaning against the counter behind me, trying to wrap my head around her words.

After what feels like a lifetime of silence, Sybil finally looks up, holding my gaze as she asks, “Would you like to know what day my father died?”

I nod, dread building in my gut.

“It was July twentieth.” Her eyes stay on my face as she rattles off the year.

Deep down, I knew what she was going to say, but it still steals my breath. Stops my lungs and drags me into the past I can never seem to leave behind. Takes me to the day my mother died. The day my life was split into two—the before, and after. The day that still holds more questions than answers.

Answers I would do almost anything to get.

“That’s the day my mother died.” My voice is strained. Rough. Ragged as I push it past the fist in my throat.

“I know.” Sybil says it gently. Carefully. “That’s the reason I’m here.”

I swallow hard, trying to ease the tightness making it difficult to breathe. “Where did your father die?”

Sybil takes a deep breath. “That depends on who you ask.” She spins her mug in a half rotation, using the handle to shift it back and forth, her voice surprisingly steady given the topic. “The official report said he died in a single car accident in Casper.”

My brain stumbles. “Not in Willow Bend?”

“Officially, no.” Sybil sits up a little straighter, edging closer. “But his injuries weren’t consistent with the story they gave my mother.”

Now I’m the one straightening. The one moving closer, drawn in by yet another similarity between her story and mine. “How so?”

“For starters, the seatbelt burn was on the wrong side.” She lifts one hand to her left shoulder, delicate fingers sliding against the junction with her neck. “If you’re driving, it should be over here.” Her other hand lifts, resting opposite. “His was on the right. Where a passenger’s would be.”

That’s a pretty big fucking discrepancy. One that should have been easily caught. “What else?”

“There was a wound on the right side of his head. Except they claimed he ran straight into a tree, so unless his head was turned at the time, there’s no way that could have happened.” Sybil’s words speed up. “Plus, his right shoulder was dislocated, more evidence he wasn’t in the driver’s seat, but sitting on the passenger’s side.”