Curling my hand around my phone, I set my back to the wall by the shower and slid to the floor, mentally preparing to call Hudson.

Unhinged opening lines rolled around in my head. From a, Hey, it’s me, I’m worried Juliette will break my heart, and I never really recovered from the first time she didn’t call. To a, I told her I killed people but didn’t work up the nerve to tell her just how many lives I’ve actually taken and why.

I held up my phone, preparing myself for option three, none of the above, when Izzy called instead.

After our conversation in the office earlier, maybe it was her I needed to talk to anyway. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t relay our conversation to her husband after we spoke.

I finally answered, settling on a basic, “Hi,” to start out with.

“I had a feeling you’d be awake, so I gave it a shot. How are you?”

I kicked the truth to the side for now and lied. “Fine.”

“Ouch. That bad, huh?”

“That bad,” I snarled. “No, that confusing.” An important distinction.

I thought back to my conversation with Juliette and how she’d misinterpreted so many things I’d said. I wasn’t used to sharing my thoughts and feelings with anyone, so why was I shocked she couldn’t also read my mind?

To know when I’d said she was dangerous, I meant to my heart.

And when I told her she had power over me, I’d been referring to how I’d do anything for her, no questions asked.

Then there were my misunderstood words I’d tossed out at the end of our conversation about not wanting to disappoint Colin. She’d turned and run opposite from my intention, diving headfirst into a discussion about obligation.

“You ready for me now?” Izzy asked, drawing me back to the present.

“What?”

“You were stewing and angry. I could feel the heat from your overthinking roll in waves through the phone.”

“Damn you,” I teased, fighting a grin.

“Got you smiling, at least, didn’t I?”

I rolled my eyes, not that she could see me. “Just give me an update. Distract me, please. Anything from the NYPD or FBI about what went down at the rave?”

“No, you know the Sicilians, they’d burn or bury any bodies you may have dropped instead of calling the police to report a crime.”

Right. I wasn’t thinking straight to waste my breath on that question.

“I did go ahead and run both Jamie’s and Lennon’s faces through our software in hopes of getting a hit on their full names and current addresses.”

“Let me guess, nothing?”