Page 74 of A Wild Darkness

“I dislike you with impressive consistency.”

“That’s practically affection.”

“Don’t get greedy.”

His eyes pin me for a moment, causing embarrassment that I had just eaten right out of his hand. “River and Lux aren’t the only ones having a romantic vacation in wine country.”

The comparison between River and Lux to Sebastian and me is humorous.

I laugh. “I’m sure they’re having a different type of fun than we are.”

He chuckles and glances away. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“And I’m sure she’ll give me all the unwanted details.”

We’re both silent for a beat.

The low chatter of the couples behind us fills the space before Sebastian speaks. “Have you and Lux always been close?”

“We are,” I begin, knowing full well this is a loaded question. “But she’s…Lux.”

“That sounds like a full diagnosis.”

“It is.”

Sebastian leans back on one hand. “Meaning?”

I swirl the wine in my glass, watching the pale pink liquid catch the sun. “Meaning she walks into a room and people notice. She says things and people listen. She understands the kind of darkness my dad understands.”

“Crime?”

“Homicide,” I correct. “As you know, my dad was a homicide detective and then lieutenant. He’s retired now, technically. Though, I’m pretty sure retired detectives are just detectives who complain more.”

Sebastian smiles faintly.

“Lux and him have always had that in common,” I continue. “Cases. Motives. Murder. All the ugly parts of people.”

“And you?”

“I deal with what’s left after.”

“The bodies.”

“The dead,” I say softly. “My clients.”

Most people flinch when I say things like that. Honestly, it can be a conversation starter and ender. They either make a joke that I play off or simply change the subject.

But Sebastian doesn’t. He holds my gaze and waits for me to continue.

I look down at the picnic blanket, picking at a loose thread near my knee. “I used to think that made me less interesting to them. Lux is the brave one. The sharp one. And the one who can talk about blood spatter over dinner and not lose her appetite.”

“And you?”

“I could dress the body afterward. Fix the hair. Make sure their family has one last memory that doesn’t look like violence.”

Sebastian’s expression changes, but it’s not pity. I’d hate pity. But it’s something quieter—a respect maybe?

“You think that’s less brave?”