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I don’t want it to end.
But all too soon, the world and its constant constraint reminds me there’s still work to be done. There’s only one way for London to be completely free.
30
Burn
London
A blazing heat like a furnace warms the side of my face. The startling contrast of hot and cool rips me out of a dreamless sleep, awareness hurtling me out of my calm and sated cocoon.
For once, my mind is blissfully quelled from all thoughts of the past and present. Then, reality bleeds in, drawing me into a new realm of anxiety.
A heated orange and red flickers against my eyelids. I reach for Grayson, and hear a rattling clink as my wrist is pinched and the cool kiss of metal drags across my arm. Eyes straining to open, an alarm sounds within me, my heart pounds in my ears as blood rushes my arteries.
I feel disconnected. Woozy. I blink a few times to clear my vision, and the sight hollows out my chest. Fire blazes high into the early morning sky. Flames seam the edges of deep-blue, blending into the mosaic of red and orange clouds, unable to separate the two entities.
“Grayson—” I say, panic lacing my voice. Then as I start to shout his name, the realization of where I am and what’s happening crashes into me.
I yank at the cuffs. A chain circles the scaffold, shackling me to the trap that Grayson and I used to kill a man. Beyond the maze, the house is engulfed in fire. The pop and snap of burning beams reaches my ears before the faint siren.
Frantic, I examine my body. I’m again wearing the black satin dress Grayson chose for me. An irrational thought circles my mind—that this must be another test. I glance up. One of the keys must set me free. Only the keys are gone.
My chest pangs with an empty, resonating ache.
Grayson told me he would let me go.
Oh, God. I didn’t imagine it. I didn’t invent what happened between us. No, my memories are firmly in place, undisturbed. Everything that transpired is still with me, a part of me—the world more transparent than ever.
Only Grayson is missing.
He let me go.
I tug at the handcuffs, desperate to flee and find him and…
What?
Run off into the sunset like some deranged Bonnie and Clyde? Running from the law, living on love and danger and…resentment. That’s the whim of a little girl. Not the reality for a woman.
I sag against the scaffold. My bones weary, my muscles lethargic. Reality is a black hole.
I couldn’t see past the immediate and instant gratification—but Grayson could.
Still, he didn’t give me a choice. He decided for me.
The flash of police lights bounce against the pines. As the flames rise higher, smoke billowing into the callous morning, the shouts of firefighters and authorities clash. A moroseness settles in the pit of my stomach. Misery acute and damning.
Then voices drift toward the clearing.
“Dr. Noble?”
The dull talons of melancholy drag me under. I can’t respond. I can’t breathe.
“Dr. London Noble. I found her! Are you all right?”
My unseeing gaze snags on a significant detail. The dark suit before me brandishes an FBI pin clipped to the gray tie. “I’m Special Agent Nelson. You’re safe now.”
The agent lays a hand on my bare shoulder in a show of comfort. “Let’s get some help over here!” he shouts.
