Страница 33 из 349
They didn’t notice the changes in him like I did. They didn’t see how his devotion turned into obsession. They didn’t acknowledge his growing aggression.
Then again, even I found it hard to come to terms with him being capable of his horrific end game. And the actions of his wealthy parents who helped him escape police custody. I’m one-hundred percent certain his entire extended family assisted in the efforts to hide him from his punishment for all these years. That’s why I won’t feel shame or guilt at wanting him dead. He deserves it, and his family deserves to mourn the loss.
Fuck, woman, concentrate. Arms. Face. Mind.
My head becomes heavy, tempting me with sleep. Or maybe dragging me into approaching nightmares.
I never would’ve thought one simple, careless deception could cause such devastation. That a few simple words could be the difference between life and death.
I can’t go to the party with you, Jacob. I have plans with my family.
I can taste the lie in my mouth, can feel it curl and twist around my tongue. I want to break up with him. I just don’t know how. So, instead of going to that party, I walk to my best friend’s house in the hope we can figure it out together.
I ignore his ten phone calls. I pretend he doesn’t exist. But he ensures I’ll never forget him.
The sound of wailing sirens follows me on the stroll home. Smoke billows in the distance. By the time I reach the bottom of my street I’m ru
I search the yard, looking past fire engines and firemen in an attempt to find my parents and siblings. It’s Friday night. My father always leaves work early. Stephanie is grounded for sneaking out to see her boyfriend. And my mom and Thomas are inseparable.
They’re all home. But there’s nothing to worry about because we have smoke alarms. Dad pays the alarm company to check them every spring. They would’ve gotten out. I’ll find them around here somewhere. Maybe even in the back yard.
They’ve already located four bodies restrained in one of the downstairs rooms.
My heart lurches at the murmured words. I don’t even know who they come from. The statement is just there, ringing in my ears, tearing at my soul.
No. I run for the front door, heat licking my skin, only to be dragged back. I scream. I sob. I crumple.
Don’t be in there. Please, God, don’t let them be in there.
I’m hauled onto the grass where some nameless, faceless woman yaps at me until I’m catatonic. It will be okay. You’re not alone. Do you want me to call a friend? A relative? Are you cold? Hungry?
I remain still. Frozen in stone. I can already feel it—the isolating detachment, the brutal desolation.
I watch, in a daze as men rush around me, attempting to put out a blaze that burns my world to the ground. The fire crackles. Windows shatter. The sight before me doesn’t make sense, not even the sense of overwhelming loss.
It’s going to be okay, princess.
The familiar tone eats up my sorrow, and I snap my gaze to the left to find Hunter seated beside me. He’s dressed in fireman’s clothes. His face is smudged with soot. His skin is beaded with sweat.
Relief overwhelms me. There’s no rhyme or reason. Not when hell has erupted around me.
What are you doing here?
I frown as he gives me that look of his. The one built of power, intent, and determination. I feel strengthened from the sight of him, from his mere presence. All I want to do is sit on his lap and curl into his arms like a child. To be protected and cared for. But I’ll never be foolish enough to act on my desires. I’m already weak enough. The only way to grow strong is to detach myself from anything of value.
No car, no house, and definitely no loved ones.
Hunter, why are you here?
I repeat myself, over and over, as he sits there in silence. There’s no more burning building. No dying family. The flames dwindle. The devastation evaporates. Everything fades. There’s only him. Only me. Only faith and building assurance.
He leans close, his knee brushing mine. He reaches out a hand, his fingertips skimming my cheek. The zing that always accompanies his touch pummels my insides. I can breathe again. I can smile.
Tell me, I whisper. Tell me why you’re here.
He smiles, sad but sure, those hazel eyes filling with promise and conviction.
I’m here because that’s where you need me to be.