Page 117 of Pervade Montego Bay

James stripped out of his wet clothes and used the towel. “How long have you been planning this debacle?”

“Guilt is eating you alive. I will not abandon you when you need me the most.”

“I fucking deserve it.” He waved his hand through the air. “Now you know what kind of monster I am. If anything happens to you, I’ll be praying for your swift death, too. How does it feel?”

“The reason wasn’t because she’d be disfigured if she survived, James. You would have been there for her no matter what.”

“And you know that for sure?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How do you know?” He tugged his T-shirt down.

“Because you blew up your life, Ballad. You resigned your commission with the Royal Navy and joined MI6. You left your beloved profession for her. Then you went on a killing rampage to get revenge for what they did to Victoria. You proved you would do anything to get justice for her—including risking your own life. Obviously, you would have done anything to keep her alive.”

He stared at me, furious. “You are an abomination, Xavier. Your brilliant mind is a fucking curse.”

I exhaled slowly, keeping my reaction cool. “It’s not the first time someone’s mentioned that,” I admitted.

He was walking away, returning to the path that led back to where the helicopter had landed.

You failed him.

I glanced back at the clear lagoon, my feet refusing to move. Water had a way of healing…but sometimes, it was merely a place to drown.

Xavier

An empty bottle of Appleton Estate Rum rested on the kitchen counter.

I stared at it for the longest time, second guessing myself for monumentally fucking up last night. I was the reason that bottle had been consumed.

With Emily still over at Louis’ place, I’d woken this morning with nothing to distract me. No cheeky grin from my girl, no crazy life musings from her that always set my day off right.

I had to face the haunting fact that I’d only succeeded in hurting James when I’d flown him to Dunn’s River Falls and made him relive the most agonizing time in his life.

A misfire…

With all that rum inside him, the fallout from last night was going to mean he’d kick off this morning with one hell of a hangover. As I was responsible, I set about making it right, flicking on the coffeemaker so I could brew him a hot drink and pouring some orange juice. Even though he’d probably not want it, I made him breakfast.

Carrying the tray holding my peace offering, I ascended the stairs to his room, running through all the things I’d say to explain my reasoning. I might even have appeared selfish, though that wasn’t truly the case.

I’d wanted to set James free—wanted him to find love again, no matter where. I just wanted him to be okay.

He wasn’t in his bedroom.

I found him in one of the guest rooms. The door was open a little so I nudged it and went in. James was lying on his stomach, asleep and snoring softly. The sheets had slid halfway down his body showing off his muscular back. Above him the fan whooshed on maximum spin while a warm breeze blew in, billowing the curtains.

I didn’t want to wake him. Didn’t want those same nightmares within his tortured mind to stir and cling to his every thought. I liked seeing him at peace. Free of the ghosts of his past. Free of the agony that followed him.

Quietly, I placed the tray on the bedside table and pulled the bottle of Tylenol out of my pocket. I set it down beside the tray and turned it to face him so it would be the first thing he’d see.

This man meant the world to me. We’d been to hell and back together. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. Or so I’d thought. James had been pushing me and Emily away from him in order for us both to be happy.

He was shoving his own happiness aside.

Overwhelmed by a crushing sadness, I said a quick prayer that he would find peace and love.

I started to leave, glancing back at the lonely man I adored, and froze when I saw the gold band on his left hand.