Ian
If she’d pulled the trigger of the gun she’d pointed at me, it would’ve been more merciful. She’s killing me, not with a quick bullet, but with the worst kind of torture, the kind that kills your soul.
I watch her face as she sits there and deals this blow that brings me to my knees. Scrubbed clean of the thick make-up and with her own long, platinum-blond hair, she’s every bit the Cas I stole.
She’s still mine.
Her lust and love belong to me. I stole them first, but she damn well gave them to me. Then I went and stole her life. Even if Ruben pulled the trigger, the blame is mine. It was my fault for not getting rid of him like I should’ve. It was my fault for not seeing what was brewing under my nose.
I failed her, but by some miracle she’s been given back to me. I won’t let her get away again. If I have to steal her all over, so be it. Damian’s words ring in my head, that keeping a woman prisoner never ends well. I’d just have to be cleverer about it this time. Instead of drugging and kidnapping her, I’ll convince her it was her idea.
I study her beautiful features as she gives me silence. I know what a person with issues look like. It takes one to know one. She’s locked them so deep in her heart, there’d be a Freudian eruption the day she lets everything out. That’s all right. The day that happens, I’ll be there for her. I don’t care if she never loves me back again. Having her alive is enough.
“When I’m out of this bed,” she says with a warning in her voice, “I’m walking away from this. Forever.”
Over my dead fucking body will she ever walk away from me. I want to growl it like a dog warning the pack away from its bone, but I manage in a voice so normal it deserves an award. “Where are you planning on going?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Like hell. I nod as if I agree. I even paste understanding on my face. “There’s one thing you forgot however.”
She lifts a brow.
“Wolfe is still after you.” I wait until it sinks in before I deal my following card, making it seem like a conversation unfolding naturally, one logical thought leading to the next, and not a premeditated plan. “And after me.”
She frowns. “I told him if anything happens to me, the evidence would go to his superior. He took a risk shooting me, but now he knows I bluffed.”
Good. She’s catching on nicely. “Yeah. Like me, he thought you were dead. Unlike me, discovering you alive must’ve come as a nasty shock to him. You know he’s guilty of murder. In his mind, there’s only one way he can sleep easily again.”
“When I’m dead.”
“When both of us are dead. It’s safe to assume he knows you told me that he framed me. He knows I’ll come after him. He’ll want to get to me first.”
“We’ll get the evidence and give it to his superior.”
“He’d be arrested, if they manage to catch him when he goes on the run, but that won’t stop him from sending someone else after us. This is personal. To frame me for murder tells you just how personal.” It pains me to add, “Now you’re personal to him too.”
“Unless we get to him first,” she says.
“We can pull it off if we work together.”
“How?”
I pull the noose tighter around her, reeling her closer. “By setting a trap for him.”
She chews her lip.
“I won’t risk you, Cas. You have nothing to fear.”
“You want to dangle me like a worm on a hook? To be nothing but a piece of bait?”
“When the fish bites, I’ll deal with him.”
“No.” She crosses her arms. “He shot Nick. He’s mine.”
Her attitude makes me hard, not that I’d ever consider letting her soil her hands. That’s me. I’m the dirty one.
Taking my silence for agreement, she asks, “How do we do it?”
“One step at a time. First, you get better. Stronger.”
She looks around. “Here?”
“The offices are closed until after New Year. We have a week.”
“Why are we wasting time? We should already be working on a plan.”
Inwardly, I grin. The old Cas is still inside that stunning body. I bet she’s only biding her time to break out. “As I said, first you heal.”
Chapter 8
Cas
The doctor arrives in the late afternoon to examine me. He’s happy with my progress. If all continues to go well, the IV will be removed tomorrow.
When he’s gone, Ian helps me into a wheelchair. I hold the portable IV, wheeling it alongside while he takes me up one level to a lobby tastefully decorated with African art. An office takes up the rest of the top floor. Adjoining to the office is a bathroom with a shower. He gives me privacy to use the facilities. My hair feels grimy, but I don’t shower yet. The doctor told me to wait another day.
When I’m done, he pushes the wheelchair to the far end of the room and parks it in front of the window. “Wait here.”
I crane my neck to follow his progress across the floor. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back,” he says before shutting the door.
It’s not like I have a choice. Even if my legs are still a bit wobbly, I can walk, but where would I go?
I turn my attention to the view that stretches as far as the eye can see. The sun is a ball of fire dipping below the horizon. It paints the rooftops in copper and gives the windows a rose-gold tint. To some, the city is a place of opportunity and pleasure. To me, it seems like a prison. The tall buildings and tight network of roads feel like bars. There was a time when I was willing to move here in search of work. That was before Ian spoiled me with vast acres of land, a broad river, and wild animals.
What will I do when we’ve dealt with the threat Wolfe poses? I don’t have a plan for the rest of my life. Until yesterday, all my focus was trained on finding Ian and killing him. I never gave what I’d do afterward any thought. However, when I pushed the barrel of my gun against Ian’s stomach, I couldn’t pull the trigger. The opportunity was there, but even if Wolfe hadn’t arrived, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I’ve over-estimated my abilities. Thinking about something and doing it isn’t the same thing. Ian said something similar in the bar about wanting and taking. I’ve imagined the scene countless times in my mind. Easy. Find him. Make him pay. Closure.
Facing him in reality, I knew beyond a doubt killing him would destroy me. Ian might’ve ruined me for other men, but my revenge would’ve ruined me for living. Once upon a time, I gave him my heart, and I only have one heart. Once I’ve given it, it’s forever, no matter what. I can never give it to someone else. What happened may have destroyed us, but my heart will always belong to him. Killing him wouldn’t be anything other than ripping out my own heart and mashing it to a pulp. What have I been thinking? How could I have thought shooting him would fix anything? Love makes you blind, but so does vengeance.
The click of the door pulls me from my thoughts. In the reflection of the window, Ian moves toward me. His steps fall like a heartbeat on the marble. It’s a firm and steady rhythm, one that beats alongside my heart in my chest. I told him it was over because it’s true. I want us to be over. I can’t live through such pain again. I won’t survive it. I barely did.