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Even in the end, it’s his voice that comes to me.

A swift tug lifts my arms and pulls my head momentarily above water. But I fight the renewed buoyancy and make myself a deadweight in the rough water.

“You crazy fuckin’ bitch.” Heath’s voice comes again, angry, vengeful, mean. “You don’t get to do this, Katelyn. Fuck you! You don’t get to leave me again. You never get to leave me unless I fucking slit your throat myself.”

My head is above water, and his strong arm is across my chest, holding me afloat. He drags me to the shallow surf, a rock of resilience against the powerful tide and the downward pull of my relinquished body.

We hit the sand, and I cough up salt water while Heath’s chest heaves with exertion. Then he cradles me in his arms, much like a mother would her young child.

My eyes open to his beautiful face, his brow knit in concern, his jaw tense with incredible anger. I decide I must be dead if I’m back with my love. My Heath.

The soft sand clings to my skin as he lays me down gently and peers at me before raking his hands through his wet hair. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

My throat burns, and I spit water as I gaze up at an angel. “You can swim?”

“Fucking hell, Kat. After a stunt like that, I should drown you myself.”

“Heath,” I whisper, my voice raspy with abrasion. I raise my hand to his cheek and run my fingers along the dark stubble that shadows his strong jaw.

“What the hell were you thinking, Kat?” he demands.

“I thought maybe I could go back in time that way. See my mom. Find you again.”

“Why?’

“I need to escape this place, Heath.”

His face abruptly appears within centimeters of mine, so close I feel his rapid breath as his lips hover over mine. “You can’t escape me, Kat. I told you once that if you died, I’d follow, and I meant it. It’s me and you and eternity, Katelyn Shaw. I’ll kill us both myself if you ever try to leave me again.”

Heath gathers me in his arms and lifts my weakened and soaked body. He marches off the beach, not to the home I share with my husband, but to Wainscott Hollow, my hell and my salvation. Hallowed ground where I fell in love with him, the same house that stole my innocence and in which my very worst nightmares were realized. The monument to my family’s severe dysfunction, a place I married Eddie to escape, only managing to lock myself away in another prison. Wainscott Hollow, the house where my dreams died, and my nightmare began. The X that marks the exact spot of the original sin.

“Eddie will be furious. He’ll kill me. You better take me home, Heath.”

Heath laughs and keeps walking, trudging through the sand as the wind whips up a frenzy of the brewing storm. The storm in my heart mirrors the aberrant weather.

He doesn’t look at me, just forges straight ahead and holds my body closer to his. So close that I can feel the drumming of his heart pounding against the walls of his chest like a warning, a smoke signal to guide me home.

“I am taking you home, Kat.”

Chapter 15

Heath

Wainscott Hollow is where she belongs. Not because of the house or the belongings or the family history. But this is our sacred ground. These dunes, this ocean, is where we fell in love. It’s not the house or the estate, it’s Kat and me, the two of us, our souls united.

She takes in the decrepit estate as I carry her, the corridors we used to run as children. Our laughter vibrated off these same walls as we played and chased each other with wild abandon.

“Why would Henry let you stay here, Heath? He hates you.”

I carry Kat upstairs without a reply, kick in her old bedroom door, and place her on the bed before covering her body with mine. She shivers from the chill of the stormy ocean, and I brush her hair back from her face as I plank myself over the length of her body. How I long to tear the clothing off her body and bury myself in her softness. Her skin is the map that leads my soul home. I know every inch of her body better than I know my own.

Silence encircles us as we stare into the depths of one another’s eyes, terrified that once a word is uttered, our bubble will burst and we’ll crash back into the hell of the reality we’ve made. There’s too much to say, and words do not suffice the chaos of our emotions.

Her fingers move into my hair, and my eyes close, yet I grab her wrist and yank her touch away from me. The resolve I’m precariously holding onto is about to explode from a single touch.

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