Page 15 of Absolution (Favorite Malady Trilogy #3)

DANE

I f it weren’t for my years of medical training, my hands would be shaking with the barely suppressed violent impulses that churn through me. But Abigail is injured, and she needs my help.

The long, thin cuts that mar her calves ooze beads of blood, already clotting. It took half an hour to get her out of the woods and then another twenty minutes to drive back to our house. We’ve only just made it into the bathroom so that I can retrieve my first aid kit from beneath the sink.

Residual terror clings to my psyche, sharpening all of my senses so that her blood is a shocking crimson against her porcelain skin.

When she’d called me, all I’d heard was her muffled cry and a man’s rumbling voice.

The abject horror of knowing my little dove was in danger but out of my reach had been nearly debilitating.

I’d stormed out of the clinic with a barked explanation at Meadows, and every second it’d taken me to get to her had felt like an agonizing eternity.

She’s safely in my hands now, but she’s not unharmed. My brave Abigail suppresses a wince as I gently clean her cuts, but I know it must sting despite my careful treatment.

Even the flicker of discomfort that pinches her lovely features is enough to draw a growl from my chest.

“I’m okay,” she promises shakily, as though I’m the one who needs comforting. Her trembling fingers trail through my hair. “I’m safe.”

“Tell me what happened,” I command, voice gravelly with simmering rage. “What were you doing out there all alone?”

She tips her chin back slightly, my imperious queen asserting her independence. “I went to the beach to take pictures for a series of paintings. It was meant to be a surprise.”

She blows out a sigh and relaxes her stiff posture. Her fingernails lightly scrape my scalp as she continues to touch me, as though she needs to feel me as much as I need to be reassured of her presence.

“You came,” she says softly.

“I will always come for you,” I swear roughly. “I should’ve been with you.”

She shakes her head. “You can’t be with me all the time.”

I would keep her on a leash at all times if I could, but I don’t admit that. She wouldn’t like it.

“You said it was Ron’s brother.” I shift the subject back to the danger she faced.

I have to know everything that happened so that I can formulate a plan to eliminate the threat.

She nods and swallows hard. “Billy must’ve followed me out there. He said I was a hard woman to pin down, so I’m not sure how long he’s been trying to get me alone. Probably since we came back from England.”

I force my gaze to break from hers so that I can continue treating her cuts. The shallow wounds are clean now, so I cover the worst of the damage with small bandages to stop the last of the bleeding.

“How does Billy even know who you are?” I struggle to keep my tone calm and even as I say the dead man’s name. He’ll suffer and scream before he dies.

I recall Abigail’s wild eyes when I’d found her in the woods, her cheeks flushed red from running for her life.

She sighs again. “I should’ve told you,” she confesses. “I thought he was Ron. They must be twins.”

“What should you have told me?” I can’t quite keep the bite from my tone this time. My pet withheld information that put her in danger. The urge to turn her over my knee is almost overwhelming.

Her punishment will come later. I’ll make sure she never does something like that again.

She considers me warily, and I blink the ruthless spark from my eyes. The last thing I want is to scare her now.

“I saw Ron—Billy—at my apartment building on the day we came back to Charleston,” she admits.

“When we were going out for my bachelorette party, he was in the breezeway. He was just as creepy as always, but I had Franklin and Stacy to back me up. They told him that you would hurt him if he tried to come near me again.” She takes a deep breath.

“And then today, Billy seemed to think that I must know something about Ron’s disappearance.

He thinks you did something to his brother, and I’m responsible. ”

“You are not responsible for what I did to Ron,” I growl. “No more than you were responsible for what happened to Stephen. They brought their fates upon themselves. If they hadn’t threatened you, they’d be fine now.”

Her eyes search mine. “So…Ron is dead?”

She says it like she doesn’t quite want to believe it, but she must have suspected. She doesn’t seem shocked.

“Yes,” I say, cold and unapologetic. “And I would kill him a thousand times over for what he did to you.”

His brother will be next. Billy will die screaming.

“What…” She trails off, then tries again. “What did you do to him?”

I keep the savage satisfaction from my expression, remaining carefully blank and unfeeling. “You don’t want to know.”

“That day when…” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “You were covered in mud and blood.”

I flinch before I can stop the involuntary movement. She’s talking about the day she found out I’m her stalker, the masked man who attacked her. We’ve never discussed that dark altercation in detail, when I choked her out and then drugged her.

Thinking about it makes my stomach twist with a surge of nausea, and I swear I can feel her fingernails desperately raking my forearm as she struggles to breathe, to escape from me.

She shivers and then straightens her spine. Mercifully, she moves past the difficult subject.

“I need to know what happened. If you left any evidence, you’ll go to jail. Billy might be able to prove that you killed his brother.”

“I didn’t leave any evidence,” I reassure her.

The alligator took care of Ron’s body, and my ruined clothes are an ocean away, rotting in a landfill; I disposed of them in England.

“Dane.” She says my name like an admonishment. “I need you to talk to me.”

I narrow my eyes at her in warning. “I’m not going to tell you the details of what I did to Ron. What we’re going to discuss is the fact that you went off on your own and put yourself in danger.”

She bristles. “I didn’t know there would be danger, or I wouldn’t have gone to the beach alone. I’m not an idiot.”

I gnash my teeth, frustrated. “I didn’t say you’re an idiot. But your recklessness made you vulnerable. What if I hadn’t made it to you in time?”

My blood goes cold at the thought of what could’ve happened to my little dove.

She cocks her head at me, considering me for a long moment. I don’t like the incisive light in her eyes.

“How did you find me?” she asks.

My heart skips a beat.

“You called me,” I explain, keeping my voice cool and controlled. “I heard you shout. I heard a man threatening you.”

She shakes her head. “You found me in the middle of the woods. I didn’t tell you where I was.”

I stiffen. “I will always find you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She skewers me with her glowing blue stare. “Dane. How did you find me? I want an answer.”

“No.”

Her brows lift. “ No? No, what?”

“You don’t want the answer. Just trust that I will do anything to protect you. I’ll always take care of you.”

“What did you do?” she demands, voice at a higher pitch than usual.

My heart pounds against my ribcage, as though I’m still running through the woods, searching for her.

But she’s right here, and she’s looking at me with distrustful, guarded eyes.

“Tell me,” she insists. “If you respect me, you’ll be honest with me. We’re supposed to be equals in this marriage. Partners.”

The last word catches in her throat, as though she’s afraid it isn’t true.

By some miracle, she’s come to love me again. She’s been willing to move past my stalking and kidnapping, and she’s offered me a life with her despite my crimes against her.

Now, all of that is threatening to unravel. I can’t allow her to ponder the ugly truth of what I did to her too deeply. If she confronts it fully, she might not be able to live with it. She might not forgive me.

“I can’t lose you,” I rasp.

Her eyes shine. “I don’t want you to lose me. But you have to tell me what you did. I can’t live as your pet. I’m supposed to be your wife.”

I grasp both of her hands in mine, anchoring her to me. “You are my wife. You’re mine, Abigail. And I’m yours. Nothing will change that.”

I fear that I taste a lie on my tongue, and I swallow against the bitterness of it.

“You put an app on my phone?” she guesses. “Is that how you found me?”

It’s so much worse than that, so much more invasive. At the time, I hadn’t experienced any qualms about my actions.

But now, I’m terrified of the repercussions.

“I tracked you.” The admission drops like a grenade between us.

“How?” She’s gone pale, and my fingers tighten to vises around her hands.

“When you were recovering from the car accident back in England,” I admit, the words dragging up my throat like razorblades. “I put a tracker in you while you were on painkillers.”

Her jaw goes slack with horror, and tears well in her eyes.

“You were never going to let me go,” she whispers. “I never had a choice.”

“I can’t let you go,” I say desperately. “I told you that I can’t live without you. You chose me. You love me.”

It has to be true.

Iron bands crush my chest, and I can’t draw any air into my lungs.

All I’d wanted was keep Abigail by my side, but now, I might’ve lost her forever.