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“He told me everything, Felicity.”
Oh.
She couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. Couldn’t bring herself to demand that he tell her exactly what his maddening son had said.
And dammit, why was her nose burning?
“He messed up,” Mr. Murphy said.
Yes.
He had.
“But for the right reasons.”
She swallowed. “You … c-condone what he did?”
“His methods?” Duncan said, watching the river. “No. His reasons? Yes.”
Felicity shot to her feet.
“His reasons?” she repeated, staring at him. “He arranged an assassination. To protect me. Me.” She stabbed at her chest. “He could go to prison. Do you understand that? If the truth ever surfaces…”
She broke off, dragging her hand through her hair. Her fingers snagged on a knot. She welcomed the sting. “His life would be over. And for what? Me. So I wouldn’t have to live with the consequences of my own choices?” Her chest tightened. “It could have gone so badly. It still could happen.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I am not worthy of that kind of sacrifice, Mr. Murphy.”
“My son thinks differently. He loves you, Felicity.”
And that was the most baffling thing ever.
Something she would never understand.
“When you love someone, truly love someone, sacrificing your life for theirs isn’t a choice; it’s an instinct.”
41
Instinct
The following morning, Felicity left Murphy’s Bend with Duncan Murphy’s words echoing in her head. They stayed with her as she wandered east, hugging the Gulf Coast and bypassing the cities in favor of smaller, quieter places. Louisiana blurred into Mississippi, Mississippi into Alabama, and eventually Florida.
No amount of distance seemed capable of silencing Duncan’s words.
The van rolled into a campground near Key West just before sunset. Felicity paid for one night and backed into a waterfront site. The ocean stretched ahead, turquoise water turning molten gold beneath the sinking sun.
It was the only redeeming quality of the crowded place. Neither she nor the pugs were overly impressed. They wouldn’t be lingering.
But there was nowhere farther south she could drive.
The road had simply … ended.
And now she had a choice to make.
When you love someone, truly love someone, sacrificing your life for theirs isn’t a choice; it’s an instinct.
Duncan Murphy’s words carried a silent indictment.
Her sister had trusted the justice system to deal with Vasily. Had spent four years of her life working toward that end.
