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“Good luck.” He grins, and for a single moment I consider killing him now for what he did.
Instead, I slam the door in his face and run for Daphne.
She’s waiting at the top of the stairs, her face pale. “What happened?”
I crush her to me for a heartbeat. For the last time, that voice says.
And then her wrist is in my hand. I take her to the bedroom first. Collect a burner phone. Back toward the stairs. We need to go down and out. To the water.
They’ll be coming from the road.
“Emerson, please. What did he say?”
That the world was ending. That he’d invited in the cataclysm. I take her through the house, to the mudroom. I don’t know how to dress her for this. A wetsuit? It’ll only be a short time in the sea. “My father called your family. He told them where you were. They’re coming for you.”
I hear the words as I’m looking into her eyes. Into Daphne’s sweet, dark eyes, which have captivated me from the very first glance. Into the face of the only woman I’ve ever loved.
I love her.
I love her.
“We–” She raises her arm so she can kiss the back of my hand. “We have to go. We have to go right now. He’ll never let me see you again.”
This is the painting I’ll see in my head every waking moment for the rest of my life. In my dreams until I’m dead. Daphne looking up at me, those moonlight eyes fiery with determination. She’s going to slip the bonds of her family and run.
My little painter can’t do that.
She can’t chain herself to me. Can’t go down with the ship. I’m wreckage, and I have been for a long time. I’m a stalker. A menace. I’m my father’s son. And she needs her family. She’d suffocate without them if I kept her away from them for good.
I take her face in my hands.
“What are you doing? We have to leave.”
“Not you.”
A sharp breath. “What? Emerson, no.”
“You have to go back to them.” We don’t have time for the conversation this moment demands. “Go back to your family. Find a man who’s not a nightmare. One who’s never held you captive. One you can bring home to your brother.”
“You’re not saying this to me.” She’s stunned. “You are not breaking up with me.”
“We were never together, little painter. You were just a piece in my collection. I’m returning you to your original owners. I’ll stay with you until they take you home.”
Panic flashes across her face. “You can’t. My brother is going to–you can’t. Leave. Leave now.”
“If you think I’m leaving you alone–”
“You have to. I’ll fix it, Emerson. I’ll make him understand, and then you can come back.” I am not afraid of Daphne’s brother. The worst he can do is kill me. I’ve wished for that before. But her fear is rising, cresting. “Please. You might get arrested. You might get hurt. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I’m sending her away, and she’s still concerned for my safety.
Nothing has ever been so painful.
I won’t make her witness to the inevitable scene.
It’s the only chance I’ll have to say it. “I love you.”
Shock is a catchlight in her eyes. “What?”
