The man moved closer, dipped his head to murmur, “Amelie, dearest. Did you really think I’d let you leave me?” He struck her.
The woman’s petite, delicate body went flying. She cried out, but when he approached her, she didn’t cringe, didn’t try to move away. She just lay there.
“I am leaving, Richard.”
“Leaving . . . no. No, you aren’t.”
He bent over her and fisted a hand in her hair, jerked her upright. “I warned you what happens to those who defy me, Amelie, and you’re no different. I’ll ruin you. Your family. Everybody.”
She laughed, the sound pained. “My father has already told me, you can’t do what you seem to think. The sheriff has his people watching you already. And Papa was gone the week Thom disappeared, you stupid fool. So threaten me if you wish, but I am leaving.”
He shoved her backward. “No. You are not.”
And Amelie swung out her hands, struggling to catch her balance. Her slippered feet slid on the dock and then she plummeted. Straight down into the dark, cold, watery depths.
* * *
THERE wasn’t enough whiskey in the world to get him through this, Joss figured.
So, for the first time since this had started, when the thought I need a drink rolled through his mind, he didn’t bother.
Instead, as Dru cried, he held her against his chest and stared out the window, his gaze not tracking much of anything.
He’d killed her.
It was a hollow, empty ache in his gut, and it didn’t matter that it was another life ago.
It felt like moments ago. Seconds ago. Now.
She’d died . . . and Joss hadn’t been there to protect her.
Stroking his free hand up her back, he decided he’d rather be back in the predicament he’d been in before he’d gone to sleep. When he’d just been trying to figure out the right words to make her talk to him again. Yeah, when their main problem had been a cold-blooded slaver. Sure, there had been that weird little past-lives thing, but it had been something to put on the back burner.
Now it was a boiling, raging fire, one that threatened to suck him in and burn him alive.
As her sobs started to ease, he closed his eyes.
Long moments passed after she’d stopped crying, and still they didn’t speak. He just didn’t know what to say. But finally, after nearly thirty minutes of silence, the one thought that kept circling through his head came to his lips.
“I should have been there,” he said quietly.
“And how could that happen? You were already dead,” she pointed out, her voice weary. “Listen to me . . . this is insane.”
“It’s real. And you know it.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” He turned his face into her hair, nuzzling her gently. “It’s real. You know it. I know it. For whatever reasons, we were put back here to find each other again.”
She snorted at that. “Well, I’ll agree that it’s real. I won’t say I agree to anything else. At least I know what happened at the end of it all, though.” She sat up, nudging him against the chest with her shoulder. “Why am I cuffed to you?”
“Ah . . .” Joss looked down, staring at their joined wrists. “I didn’t want you waking before I did and trying to slip out. And that isn’t the end of it all. We’re not done, Dru. You have to know that.”
“Do I?” She jerked on her hand. “Undo these now.”
“No.” Studying her face, he tried to decide. She seemed level, he decided. Or level enough. And they wouldn’t have much more time before he had to leave. There was still work to be done, and as much as he wanted to say fuck it, Patrick Whitmore still ranked very high on his priority list.
She stood, her eyes all but shooting fire at him. He rose with her. So pretty, he thought. So pretty and so damned strong. He hadn’t given her credit, he realized. Not enough now, and not then, either. She’d been ready to walk away. Not run in terror, but walk . . . after standing up to a monster. It had ended in a nightmare then.
This was their second chance, and they weren’t going to lose it.
A sneer danced across her face, chasing away some of the shadows and brightening her eyes. “I said, undo the cuffs.” Her voice was cool, icy, and oh so damn proper. She jerked against them.