Tick-tock, tick-tock. Together, apart. Together, apart.

"So where does all of this leave us?" I finally asked.

Silence. Then -

"I need . . . I need some time, Gin. To think about things. You. Me. Us."

Those were the words I'd been dreading hearing, and they caused my heart to crack, splinter, and disintegrate into black dust, leaving a hollow, cavernous space in my chest, an ache that just pulsed and pulsed and pulsed with pain.

Owen hesitated. "And it's not just about Salina. It's about me too. All these years, I believed her lies, and I hurt Eva, Phillip, and Cooper because of it - and you too. Because I believed in Salina when I shouldn't have. I feel like such a fucking fool. I said before that you didn't trust me. Maybe you were right not to, because I've clearly been wrong about this most basic thing. I just - I just don't know anymore. What to do, what to say, what to feel about any of this."

Bitterness colored his voice, and the guilt he was feeling made him grind his teeth together. His mouth twisted with disgust - at himself.

I wanted to reach out to him, wanted to put my hand on top of his and tell him that it wasn't his fault. That Salina had fooled a lot of people.

But I didn't.

I knew that I had to give Owen some space. I had to give him some time to come to terms with what had happened, work through everything, and settle it for himself. He had to come back to me on his own, he had to find his way back to me on his own. Otherwise, we'd never truly recover, and we'd only be going through the motions, pretending to love each other, and it would eventually eat away at and undermine everything we had together. I'd rather have lost Owen completely than have had him by my side when I knew he didn't really want to be there.

And the truth was that I needed some time too - time to think about Salina, what she'd meant to Owen, and how I felt about all that. I needed some time to convince myself that I wasn't like Salina, that Mab hadn't ruined me the way she had the water elemental, that she hadn't twisted me into something sad, dangerous, and grotesque.

That I wasn't a threat to the people I loved.

Owen slid out of the booth and got to his feet. I did the same. He started to go, but I caught his hand in mine. He turned to meet my gaze.

"I understand," I said, "and you take as much time as you need. But know this, Owen. I love you. Now, today, tomorrow. That won't ever change, no matter what happens between us."

I moved closer, cupped his face in my hands, and kissed him.

For a moment, he gathered me up in his arms and kissed me back - kissed me back with all the passion, all the concern, all the love I felt for him.

Then he broke off the kiss and stepped away. I curled my hands into fists so I wouldn't be tempted to reach for him. He'd asked for space, and I was going to give it to him.

No matter how much it fucking hurt.

"Take care of yourself, Gin." Owen hesitated. "I'll be seeing you."

I forced myself to smile. "Yeah. We'll see each other again real soon."

Owen nodded, then turned and walked out of the restaurant. The bell over the door chimed as he stepped outside, ringing like a dirge for the dead, and the end of our relationship.

Or was it? Was this the end? Could we get past this? I didn't know. I hoped so. Oh, how I hoped so. But my hope was as useless as tears would have been. So I stood there in the shadows staring out the storefront windows for a long time, the dust of my heart quivering with sadness and a chill creeping into my bones, despite the warm spring sunshine outside.

Chapter 35

The next day was business as usual at the Pork Pit. I still had a barbecue restaurant to run.

I cooked food, waited on tables, and cleaned up after my customers. But for once, my mind wasn't really focused on the tasks at hand and I was just going through the motions. My misery must have shown, because Sophia stopped chopping onions long enough to give me a tight hug. I thanked the dwarf and got back to the macaroni salad I was making.

About three o'clock that afternoon, someone not entirely unexpected walked through the front door - Phillip Kincaid.

The casino boss was once again in a suit and tie, and he had his blond hair slicked back into his usual ponytail. Kincaid surveyed the other customers in the storefront, then walked over and took a seat on a stool right next to the cash register.

"Gin."

"Phillip."

I didn't ask why he was here. I was still too preoccupied with Owen. Besides, I figured Kincaid would get to it sooner or later.

Kincaid ordered a couple of hot dogs, coleslaw, fries, and three of the chocolate cupcakes that I'd baked fresh that morning. I fixed his food, set it in front of him, and picked up my copy of Little Women. Normally, I would have breezed through the rest of the book hours ago, but I was having a tough time concentrating. Still, I gave it a shot, even though I had to go back and skim the paragraphs so I could recall the words I'd just read moments before.

Kincaid ate his meal in silence. He didn't bother me, and I didn't speak to him, but the quiet between us wasn't hostile. If anything, it was almost . . . friendly.

He finally let out a satisfied sigh, pushed his empty plates away, and untucked the napkin in his collar. "Another fine meal."

"That's what I do here."

I thought he might pay up and leave, but instead Kincaid threaded his fingers together on top of the counter and looked at me.

"I went to see Owen last night," he said. "He invited me out to his place for a drink. Cooper too. The three of us spent most of the night talking. It was . . . nice. Like the old days."

It didn't surprise me. Now that the truth was out and Salina was dead, there was nothing standing in the way of Owen and Kincaid resuming their friendship. I was happy for them. They'd been family once upon a time, along with Cooper and Eva, and I thought they could be that again.

"I know the two of you are having trouble right now," Kincaid said. "I'm sorry for that. Really, I am. It was never my intention to cause those sorts of problems for the two of you. I just . . . I just wanted Owen to know the truth. Finally."

I shrugged. Kincaid being sorry didn't change things between me and Owen, but it made me feel a little better.

"You know, I'd enjoy getting to know Owen again while you can," I said in an easy voice. "Because once he realizes that you're in love with Eva, he's going to morph right back into that overprotective, big brother, bear mode."

Kincaid froze, his glass of iced tea halfway between the counter and his lips. "What? What are you talking about?"

I laughed, a genuine, bona fide, amused laugh. "Oh, come on. It's so obvious. The way you were looking at Eva on the riverboat, you hiring me to be there to protect her in case Salina showed up, the fact that you still let Eva get away with calling you by that ridiculous childhood nickname. If that's not love, I don't know what is." I gave him a hard stare. "But you need to keep in mind that she's only nineteen. And you're not exactly the safest guy to be around in Ashland."

Kincaid shrugged, but he didn't deny any of it. If anything, his eyes brightened at the thought of her. "Eva Grayson was the first person who ever gave a damn about me. That's not the sort of thing you forget."

"No," I agreed. "It's not."

"And that's why I'm going to give Eva some time to grow up - a lot of time, actually. Like you said, she's still young. She hasn't figured out what she wants out of life yet. I'm going to give her that chance. And in the meantime, I plan to have plenty of fun."

I arched an eyebrow. "And if it comes to pass that she doesn't want you?"

He grinned. "Oh, she'll want me. I'm even more irresistible to women than your friend Finn is."

I had to laugh at his confidence, if nothing else. My chuckles were just fading away when the bell over the front door chimed and a guy stepped inside the restaurant. He was a dwarf wearing a plaid shirt that was too tight for his muscled upper body, jeans, and a pair of dusty cowboy boots. He started flexing his hands as soon as he stepped inside, and his gaze cut right, then left, like he was looking for someone specific to give a beat-down to.

I sighed. I knew the type - some low-level hood who wanted to move way, way up in the underworld food chain by taking out the Spider.

The dwarf looked in my direction, and his eyes narrowed, indicating that he'd found his target - me. I put down my book, straightened up, and gave him a cold smile. Kincaid noticed my evil grin, and he swiveled around to see who I was glaring at with murder in my eyes.

The dwarf took a step forward, like he was going to charge me right here in the storefront, but he froze when he saw Kincaid. The dwarf's eyes widened, and he started chewing on his lip - thinking hard. Kincaid arched his eyebrows in a silent command, then made a shooing motion with his hand.

The dwarf didn't have to be told twice. He turned around and practically ran out of the Pork Pit as fast as his cowboy boots would carry him. Kincaid turned back around to me.

"Funny thing," I said. "Since that night at Salina's, no one has come into the restaurant and tried to kill me. Until right now."

"That is funny . . . since we both know how infinitely lovable you are."

"Why, Philly," I drawled. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost say that was a joke."

Kincaid grinned at me. "What can I say, Gin? You bring out the worst in me."

I thought of Owen, and my chest tightened. "Yeah, I tend to do that to people."

He looked at me, but he didn't get up to leave. Instead, he stared at me, an amused smile on his face. "Don't tell me you've forgotten already."

"Forgotten what?" I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.

"We had a deal, remember? You kill Salina, and I get the folks gunning for you to back off. As many as I can, anyway. You held up your end, and I intend to do the same with mine."

I frowned. "That dwarf? He was one of yours?"

"Of course not. I would never be so crass as to send a hit man after you. Let's just say I've let it be known that I've developed something of a grudging fondness for you. He saw me, and he thought better of things. That's all."

I might have mocked him about it on the riverboat, but Kincaid was one of the few people in Ashland who actually had that kind of clout. If he wanted to throw a little goodwill my way, fine by me. Still, I couldn't help but point out the obvious.

"Technically, we never had a deal because I never agreed to kill Salina for you."

He grinned. "I know, but she's dead all the same. And I couldn't be happier about that."

I snorted. "Despite how happy you are, it won't last, and you know it. I'm too tempting a target for folks to ignore me for very long."

"I know," he replied. "But I figured you could use a break, after everything that's happened the past few days."

I couldn't argue with that.

I worked at the restaurant the rest of the day, then went home. Normally, I didn't mind being alone, but tonight, Fletcher's house felt especially empty, despite all the odd knickknacks stuffed inside. Or maybe that was just because my heart felt like a hollow shell now that Owen and I were . . . well . . . I didn't know what we were right now, but we weren't together.

And it fucking hurt.

I didn't have an appetite, so I poured myself a glass of gin and took it and the rest of the bottle into the den in the back of the house. I downed the drink, relishing the sweet burn of the liquor as it slid down my throat. I reached for the bottle to pour myself another round, but I stopped. Getting stinking drunk wouldn't ease the ache in my heart, and it sure as hell wouldn't make me feel better in the morning. So I pushed it aside and leaned back against the couch.

My eyes lifted to the mantel and the four framed drawings there. My mother, Eira's, snowflake, representing icy calm. Annabella's ivy vine for elegance. Bria's beautiful primrose. The one of the neon sign outside the Pork Pit that was my homage to Fletcher. My gaze lingered on each one of the runes, and a strange mood seized me.

It had been a while since I'd taken any art classes at the community college, but I still had some supplies on hand. I rummaged through one of the drawers in a table in the den and found a sketchpad and some pencils I'd stuffed in there when I'd moved back into Fletcher's house last year.

I put the pad on my lap, grabbed a pencil, and started drawing. Thirty minutes later, I had a fifth rune - Owen's hammer. The symbol for strength, perseverance, and hard work. All things he had, all things he excelled at. My fingers traced over the symbol, and I wished that I could show it to Owen, wished he was here with me now.

But he wasn't - and I didn't know if he would ever be here again.

I was sitting there staring at the rune when a sharp knock sounded on the front door, followed by a key turning in the lock. Besides me, only a few people had a key to the house - and Owen was one of them.

Heart pounding, I put the drawing aside, got to my feet, and went out into the hallway, hurrying toward the front of the house. I skidded to a stop just inside the door, waiting for whoever was outside to come on in and show himself. The lock clicked open, and the door swung forward.

But it wasn't Owen standing on the other side - it was Bria.

My baby sister stepped inside the house and held the door open for someone coming in behind her - Roslyn. Both women were carrying canvas bags full of . . . something. I couldn't quite tell what.

"Hi, Gin!" Roslyn called out, putting both of her bags into one hand so she could pull the door shut behind her.

"Roslyn. Bria. What are ya'll doing here?"