Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger on him myself unless I had no choice, no. But there are times when I’m damned glad fate doesn’t make me choose real justice over my oath to law and order.
Soon, Ophelia’s feet patter on the deck, rushing up to me.
“Jesus. Are you okay? Did you—” She freezes, standing at my side, staring over the railing with her mouth a solid ring. Her face goes ashen, one trembling hand pressed to her mouth. “Holy shit. I... I definitely didn’t mean to do that.”
It’s the look on her face that clears the adrenaline fog holding me in place.
Without thinking—hell, I can’t remember why I ever made myself wait, why she needed distance when life is so fucking short—I pull her into my arms, pressing her so close.
She comes willingly, trembling, burying herself against me while I curl a hand against the back of her head.
Beyond her body, I can just make out Ros with little Nell in her arms.
They both come creeping out warily from inside, edging past the glass of the shattered front window. They’re both crying and shaking and wiping their eyes. More importantly, they’re whole.
They’re safe.
As I hold Ophelia Sanderson tight, I remember how to breathe again.
As I shelter her in my arms, I thank God this situation didn’t end a thousand other fucked up ways it easily could have.
And now I can safely tell her, “It’s over. It’s all right. You’re all in one piece and we’re going home.”
That whole promise of home would come a lot faster if I knew there weren’t a million questions to answer and multiple high-ranking men growling in my face soon enough.
They’re sympathetic enough, sure, but they want answers, slaves to law and procedure.
I get it. If I were in their shoes, I’d be the same way, especially when an outsider cop rolls into their town with a stolen yacht and a dead high-profile killer to deal with.
It takes almost an hour for the Coast Guard to zero in on our coordinates and find us—and retrieve what’s left of Aleksander Arrendell.
I end up in a pile of girls while we wait, sitting on the deck with little Nell in my lap. Ros is also tucked against my shoulder, leaving Ophelia curled up in an exhausted bundle in the crook of my arm.
Nope, I still can’t feel bad for that dead fuck.
Not when he’s done this much damage.
The only thing that soothes my tired rage is knowing how much they need me.
How I still have a chance to make everything right.
If they didn’t need me so much, I might be shaking from the cold too, but I can’t.
For them, I’ll be as steady as an oak tree, spreading my branches to cover them.
I don’t breathe easy until we’re back on the shore and surrounded by EMTs.
They flag us down, guiding us over to the benches along the dock while they fuss over our bruises and injuries.
Ros is going to need more than a few bandages for her scrapes.
She and Ophelia take the bench next to us, Nell still glued to my arm. I stroke her hair like a puppy, willing the last few hours away like a bad dream.
Goddamn, if only it were that easy.
“What’s your favorite food, hon?” A kind EMT chatters away, prompting Nell out of her shock with small talk and checking her reflexes.
“Broccoli cheddar soup,” I answer when she hesitates too long. “The girl eats it by the pint and she’s gonna get the biggest, cheesiest batch of it in her life tomorrow.”
That wins me a smile and a laugh. Plus, a few words from Nell about how she’s a Bolognese sauce connoisseur too. For the first time since we got off that yacht, I relax.
When the other EMT asks if she has any other conditions, Ros looks down weakly.
“I...” She bites her lipstick-smeared lip. “...cocaine, honestly. And he had these other pills that always left me feeling warm and loopy. Opium, maybe? I think, um... I think I’m still high right now. I-I don’t know how it happened. I was with him and he made it seem so innocent. Like harmless fun. I just...” Her face falls, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, God, Ophelia. I’m so sorry, I don’t even know how I got to this point—”
“Shhhh,” Ophelia whispers, gathering her sobbing sister close. “It doesn’t matter how you got there. What matters is that you’re here now, and we’re going to take care of everything. We’re going to get you better.”
For a second, Ros looks at me like she’s about to completely break.
I nod fiercely.
I’ll take care of them all, if I need to.
Ethan’s last unspoken wish and my fate, accepted without complaint.
“How can you even say that?” Ros whimpers against her sister. “Everything’s falling apart. And a lot of it’s my fault.”