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“I’m fine,” she said again.
The yacht started moving, slow at first, and then faster. The rock formations of Île aux Moines was visible in the distance. They’d circle the island and steer the yacht several miles into the sea before cutting the engine and drifting in the Gulf until morning.
Biting her lip, she made her calculations while she felt behind her back for the latch that opened the gate. She couldn’t screw this up. One wrong move, and she’d be dead.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Joss asked. “I have to give Cain a report.”
“Go ahead. I’m going to stay here and enjoy the sunset.”
“Go get a jacket and shoes.”
“Just another minute.” She held her breath. If he pushed the issue, her chance would be lost.
After a strained moment of hesitation, Joss nodded. He walked to the lounge, but turned at the door to look at her. Uncertainty played in his eyes. Then, as if he suddenly realized what she was about to do, those silver pools widened. At the same time, Cain appeared in the frame.
Clelia quickly scanned the deck. Lann was at the wheel, out of view. Maya was looking down from the bridge. Bono wasn’t in sight.
Cautiously, as if trying not to scare away a bird, Joss lifted his hand, palm up and fingers splayed. It wasn’t a command. It was a plea.
She released the latch. The gate swung open, hitting the side of the boat with a clang.
Cain stood dead still. Maya looked like a statue. They were cruising at full speed now. Jumping would be suicide. That was what they would think.
When Joss took a step forward, she pushed herself into the gap in the rail. The silent threat worked. He froze.
Three more seconds, and she’d have to let go or it would be too late. It was much harder than she’d thought to let go of Joss. When a gust of wind rocked her body, she almost lost her footing.
“Cle!” Joss raised his arms, but stopped when she inched back with one heel hanging over the edge.
The panic she saw on his face stirred feelings in her chest. The misery of never seeing Joss again was unbearable. As despair ripped through her heart, a rush of heat raced through her body. She’d never felt anything like it. While Joss, Cain, and Maya bore witness, a ball of fire erupted at her feet. She reeled.
What was happening?
No!
Her gaze snapped to Joss’s. His expression mirrored her shock. She couldn’t stand the look of betrayal in his eyes as comprehension set in.
She was the prey.
She wasn’t staying to witness his judgment.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
Letting go, she plunged to freedom.Chapter 20Joss shuddered at the image of Clelia in front of the open gate in the rail. Her body was small against the backdrop of the menacing sea. The water was deep and black, a vastness of weight that could bury a person and keep her forever like a secret.
Christ. Move away from the rail.
The wind whipped her hair around her face. It was too far and noisy to speak, not that he was able to utter a word, so he pleaded with his gaze. Her beautiful, dark eyes filled with compassion. The fear mounted, squeezing his chest so hard he couldn’t breathe. He preferred anger or hatred. Anger or hatred was alive, unresolved and therefore continuous, but compassion was the result of closure, and closure meant letting go.
Compassion was the end.
Carefully, he extended his hand in a silent invitation because she wasn’t within grabbing reach. She gave another step back, wedging herself into the opening of the gate. His gut twisted. She gave him the smile he knew she was going to. It was a sweet smile that held no blame. No. He didn’t want to see it. Blame would’ve been good. Blame kept one going. Not to blame was the end of the road.
She lifted her foot and poised it over the edge. His insides churned like the turbulent water below her. He took a step forward, shaking his head, but the compassion in her wide eyes turned into an apology when she put down her foot in an unmistakable threat. He didn’t have a choice but to stop. Her body rocked in the strong wind.
“Cle!” He lifted both hands, willing her to come to the safety of his arms.
Out of nowhere, flames erupted, dancing on the deck at her feet. The shock froze him. The truth teased him even as denial set in. It couldn’t be. He’d tasted her blood.
The full impact hit him just as she mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and then she stepped over the edge.
No!
He jumped forward, clawing at the air, but she was already beyond his grip. For a split-second, her fragile body was a four-pointed star in the wind. She connected with the water, bouncing once before a dark mouth with white foam swallowed her whole in front of his eyes.
