Page 120

Rhett closes the gap between us and grabs my arms, his grip firm but trembling. “I don’t think you’re safe. Damian says he’s going to keep you forever.Forever, Ava. We don’t have a moment to lose. I’m taking us straight to the San Luis Obispo airport. And we’re never coming back here.”

“Rhett—”

I flinch when he puts his hand on my cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs. “Please trust me.”

“And I love you. More than you could ever know. Which is why?—”

“No, Ava.” His fingers lift my chin, his eyes searching mine. “Don’t say it.” His lips brush against mine, and I stiffen.

“Well, isn’t this sweet?”

The voice echoes from the now-open library door. My blood runs cold. Rhett’s hands drop from me, and we both turn. Damian steps out of the library.

The flickering lanterns cast uneven shadows across his face. His eyes are like ice. His smile is a sharp, cruel twist of his lips.

I grit my teeth. “Damian, this isn’t?—”

When he lifts a hand, I shut my mouth.

His gaze lingers on Rhett before settling on me. He reaches under his jacket, tugging at something. “I’m going to kill him, Ava. Right in front of you.”

Click.

The sound is soft, but it clamps around my heart like a frozen fist. A moment later, Damian lifts the gun and points it at Rhett.

Rhett just stares, his face pale, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Damian tilts his head. “Kneel.”

His voice is calm. Too calm. Rhett lets out a shaky breath. “Damian, I’m sorry I?—”

“No, Rhett.” My pulse thrums in my ears. “Let me handle this.”

“Handle it.” Damian’s laugh is chilling. “Handleme, you mean. You don’t have that power anymore, little doll. Not when I overheard you promise to keep secrets from your prior. Not when you let Rhett…” Damian grimaces.

Jesus help me, he’s jealous. Jealous of that weird almost-kiss Rhett gave me, probably because he was riled up and not thinking clearly. When I glance over at Rhett, his knees are shaking, his gaze fixed on Damian’s gun.

I have to think quickly.

“Damian.” My voice is surprisingly steady. “Rhett is just worried about me. You said you were keeping me forever. Can’t you see how that might?—”

“We’re done talking,” Damian says through clenched teeth. “Rhett, drop to your knees now or I won’t make it quick. I’ll shoot you in the groin and let you bleed out.”

Rhett whimpers. A moment later, his knees hit the stone.

My vision tunnels. This is real. I’m going to watch Rhett die.

Unless I stop it.

A strange calm overcomes me, settling over me like a blanket of snow. I turn around and walk toward the balcony ledge.

Am I dreaming? I’m now standing on the stone bricks with no memory of climbing up.

No, this isn’t a dream. I hear my own breath. It’s steady. Slow.

The ocean stretches far below, dark and endless, rolling in slow, lazy waves toward the cliffs. The wind pulls at my hair, tangling it around my face, whispering secrets in my ear.

Death isn’t scary. It’s the moment just before sleep, when the world slips away, and everything goes quiet.

What a strange thought. Ugly in its serenity. Is martyrdom a form of madness?