Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
I’m in more trouble than I ever comprehended.
Trouble that scares me more than death. More than Nox, but not more than what I know he can do to me. Yet . . . will that stop me from being so reckless?
My arms and legs start moving of their own volition, taking me to him, rather than accepting Brad’s hand and going to safety. I’m swimming toward him. Toward the flames. Toward the heat.
Toward the danger.
Danny starts swimming too, and when I make it to him, our bodies crash together, and I curl every limb around him, hiding my face in his neck, feeling like I’m drowning all over again. “You’re okay,” he says against my throat, holding me tightly as the fire continues to blaze just a stone’s throw away. “You’re okay.”
Tears come. More feelings, more emotions, more madness. He saved my life. He’s the only person who has ever deemed me worthy of being saved.
I hear Brad yelling in the distance, calling for us to swim to him. “We should go,” Danny encourages me from his arms, but stops me before I can turn my face away. He says nothing as he takes me in. Just gently wipes under my eyes. I don’t bother telling him that it’s sea water. He knows. The warrior has had her armor destroyed.
I’m suddenly exhausted, all of my adrenalin gone, so Danny has to hold me while he swims us to the edge of the boat where Brad is waiting, his face grave. He takes my hand and pulls as Danny pushes me up, and I’m caught on the other side by Ringo. He gathers my wet body into his arms and puts me on the soft bench, and I start to shake, not that I’m cold or anything. I’m just . . .
“Shock,” Ringo grunts, taking a fleece blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders. “Have some water.” A bottle is thrust into my hand before he joins Brad and helps get Danny up, and once he’s in the boat, the three men stand and look out to sea, watching the fire blazing.
“Another life down,” Danny quips, looking at Brad. “Someone really wants me dead.”
Like a volcano, realization erupts, and my shakes take on new levels. As Danny turns toward me, taking in my vibrating frame, I look away, shame eating away at my trembling flesh. All I can see in my head, glowing and bright on the screen of the cell phone, is my text message to Nox. I close my eyes and feel Danny settle beside me, his arm coming around my body and hugging me close. I don’t deserve his comfort. This is my fault. I told Nox he would be here. He just didn’t expect me to be too. “You’re cold,” Danny murmurs, and I nod into his chest, because I can’t possibly speak until I’ve found air to simply breathe. “Rose?”
I can’t look at him. Can’t face him knowing it’s me who nearly got him killed. Taking my chin lightly, he applies only a little pressure, not forcing me to look at him, but making it clear that he wants me to. When I find his soft eyes, my guilt triples. “I’m sorry,” he breathes.
I can only shake my head, hoping he translates that to “Don’t be.” This is all on me, though I could never confess that. Danny saved me. He thinks I’m sitting here shaking like a leaf because I’m shocked and terrified. I’m both of those things, but not for the reasons he believes. He smiles and rests his chin on top of my head, cuddling me into his solid side. “We’d better go before the Coast Guard shows up,” he says. “And when the police come knocking, we tell them the jet ski was stolen.”
The engine of the boat kicks in, and I’m forced into Danny’s side more when Brad gets us moving. And I stare at the fire until it is a mere dot on the horizon.
Today, Danny Black saved my life.
Today, he discovered the life that was there to be saved.
Today, he also signed my death sentence.
Chapter 15
DANNY
* * *
I can see Brad is itching to launch into a verbal tirade on our way back from the boatyard, the tightness of his jaw evidence of how hard he’s biting his tongue. I get it. My mind is reeling too, but for the most part, I’m watching Rose stare blankly ahead at the back of Ringo’s seat, her shakes getting worse the closer we get to my home. I pull her close, try to hold her tight to stem her trembles. She doesn’t even cast me a look. From the second I met Rose Lillian Cassidy, I wanted to pierce her defenses. Hurt her, if only to prove to myself that she could be hurt. And perhaps find some comfort in that. Seeing her like this has had a profound impact on me. This wasn’t my fault. But I still hate myself.