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"Are you sure she's going to tell you?" Riley asks, not beating around the bush. That isn't her way. She's fiercely loyal and a hell of a friend, but she always shoots it straight, even when it's tough to swallow. That's who she is. It's part of what's made her one of the most powerful women in Nashville. She may look sweet as pie, but she has a backbone and balls bigger than most men in this industry.
"What does that mean?" I growl.
Cash shoots me a warning look. "Watch your tone talking to my wife, man."
I hold up my hands in apology. He's protective as hell of Riley, and I'm not trying to piss him off or cause problems. I just want to know what the fuck is going on.
"What does Kylie know about Jayson, Memphis?" Riley asks.
My hackles rise at the mention of his name. In all the years I've known her, she's never brought him up to me. I told her as much of my story as I was willing, and we never spoke of it again. She doesn't know about the people I killed.
Some things, she didn't need to know. I wasn't going to make her carry that shit. If my crimes ever catch up to me, her hands will be clean. I owe her that much.
But she knows about Jayson. She knows the guilt and shame I carry because of his death. She knows how far gone I was when she found me in that bar. And she's never spoken his name to me since the day I told her and Cash what happened.
Until now.
"What the fuck?" I growl, feeling like I'm in some goddamn movie where everyone knows the script except me. "We're not talking about Jayson, Riley."
Her eyes soften, empathy welling in her expression. "We have to talk about him, Memphis. It's important."
"No, we don't," I disagree. "Jayson has nothing to do with Kylie."
"That's what you think," she mutters.
I see the concern in her gray eyes, but I don't know what the fuck it means. And I don't know what the fuck Jayson has to do with Kylie either. But saying their names in the same sentence like that sends a goddamn chill through me. It's familiar in a way I can't even fucking explain.
"Explain," I growl, gripping onto the edge of Riley's desk so hard my knuckles turn white.
"You told me not to tell you what I know," she reminds me. "Have you changed your mind again?"
"I…" Have I? My mind spins, hesitation sliding through me. I'm missing something. Something big.
"Jesus Christ," Cash mutters, patting their little girl on the back as indecision rages through me. "Enough of this bullshit. I know you want her to tell you herself, Memphis, but the two of you are talking in fucking riddles, and there are more important things at stake here. She has everything to do with Jayson because her real name is Kylie Conroy, Memphis."
Understanding blasts through me as soon as Cash says the name. My knees threaten to buckle, and I stumble back a step, my heart pounding like a jackhammer against my chest.
Jesus Christ. Kylie is Jayson's little sister.
Faint memories of a little girl with the same emerald eyes as the woman I've given my heart to flash through my mind. From day one, I thought she was familiar, and couldn't figure out why. I thought I knew her even though I'd never seen her before. I was right in a way. She is familiar, and I hadn't ever seen this Kylie before because she was just a kid when I left town. Twelve years of growing up separated that little girl from the woman who walked into my bar.
I barely knew her back then. Their mom hadn't let Jayson see her in years. We had to fucking sneak over there on her birthday or Christmas while their mom was at work just so Jayson could spend five minutes with her. It was the only time he was allowed to see her. Not getting to see her grow up was his one big regret—the only thing he would have changed about his life if he could have done it.
"Why didn't she tell me?" I whisper, my voice shaking. But deep down, I know the answer. Of course I do. Like everyone else, she thought I got him killed. That's why she came here. That's why she sought me out. She thought I got her brother killed.
And she's right. I did get him killed.
Jesus.
She should fucking hate me.
And yet…she gave herself to me instead.
Why, baby? Christ. Why?
"She loves you," Riley whispers, her voice gentle enough to break my fucking heart.
I glance up at her through bleary eyes, too fucking afraid to hope. Kylie hasn't said it. She said she thinks her heart is in danger and that it doesn't belong to her any longer. She looks at me with stars in her eyes. But she hasn't said she loves me.
