Bones Of Contention: The McKinnon Legends - The American Men Book 3 by Ranay James

roommate alive.
    “We looked eerily alike. Go look for yourself. Her picture is on the board behind my desk.”
    He rose to retrieve the photo. The resemblance was more than striking. They could have passed for fraternal twins, right down to the unusual necklace she was wearing. Debbie had on one just like it.
    In the days leading up to Debbie’s disappearance, Jamie had a feeling of being watched, but could never see a pattern or the same person around. Campus Safety and the city police blew her off. She chalked it up to her last semester finals and doctorate thesis being due.
    “I thought it was all just getting to me. The fact she was in my car has always weighted heavily on me. Why did he come back for it....” her question trailed.
    “Often they come back to the scene of their handiwork, or maybe there was something in it he wanted. Likely it was just to buy him time,” Josh reasoned having seen it before in his days on the Miami force.
    The tears were coming in earnest now. Josh let them flow as he handed her his handkerchief. She was his witness and as much as he might want to hold her and tell her it would be all right, he couldn’t. It would be a lie. The cold reality was it would never be the same for her. He understood that from the death of his wife. Life goes on, but it is just never the same.
    “You are feeling survivor’s guilt.” He was no therapist, but that much he recognized.
    “Maybe,” she answered after a long pause.
    “It is not uncommon, Jamie, but it is not your fault. And no one would ever think so either. It is unfortunate, but we both understand these things sometime happen. Still, it doesn’t make it easier when it hits this close to home,” he said sympathetically brushing her hair away from her face.
    She did understand. They were just not supposed to happen to her or to the people she loved. “I’m glad we finally found her body, and as hard as it is to say, at least we know her fate.”
    “I’m just grateful it wasn’t you.” He raised her hand to his lips subconsciously.
    “But it should be me.” Jamie swung her legs over the side of the sofa and tried to stand.
    Automatically, he stood bringing her into his arms in a fluid movement.
    Josh implicitly recognized her reactions were born of her grief.
    He held her gently. McKinnon men were big men capable of serious bodily damage even by accident. Therefore, the women who were within their scope of responsibility were treated with the utmost respect. Manhandling was not an option unless drastic measures were necessary, and then those measures were used only to prevent her from harming herself or another. That was McKinnon Family Law. It was his personal law. If his first wife had not driven him to violence and abuse, no one ever could.
    “It should have been me, Josh,” she repeated convinced more than ever.
    “Don’t ever say that, Jamie. We don’t know for sure.”
    He tried to sit her down. She wasn’t going to relax any longer. He could feel her tension.
    “Yes, we do know, Sheriff. He is going to eventually kill me. If he figures out he missed, then I’m dead.”
    “Then he is in for a big surprise because he will have to come through me first.”
    She placed a warning hand on his arm. “No, Josh. This is not your fight. I’m not worth protecting at the cost of innocent lives. I have always taken care of myself.”
    Josh went still and quiet. His ancient McKinnon blood began to run cold through his veins, an instinctive reaction handed down genetically through generations of warriors and Knights of the Realm. Confrontation always brought it out in him, leaving him completely objective. He became a machine overlooking nothing, giving him a competitive edge over his emotional counterparts. Yet, somehow this felt different. His emotions were still running high. It was never a good thing for any McKinnon man to be in combat mode and still be emotionally charged.
    He vowed he would keep her alive if it was the