“Dylan won’t die.”
“Honey, he signed his death warrant the day he came for you on that beach. Heath won’t stop until he’s dead too.”
“You’re quiet.”
I look over at Dylan as he comes out onto the porch with me. I’ve been sitting out here for hours, ever since we got back from meeting with Harlow. The rest of the conversation was just the same information over and over again.
I’m going to be taken.
Dylan will be killed.
And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
All we can do is damage control, making sure no one else gets hurt.
“You know, when I asked her why he hasn’t come for her yet, she told me that he knows she’s too afraid to do anything. That she’s not really a threat, and if he wanted her dead, that sniper wouldn’t have missed. She said he likes to play with his food first.”
“I would agree with that.”
I glance over at him, shocked and disgusted that Harlow wasn’t exaggerating. “Really?”
He nods. “She was used as a lure. To draw us out into that shop so he could challenge me in that hospital room. It was a strategy. He just thinks I’m too stupid to play chess.”
I smile, though inside I feel anything but happy. Dylan was always good at chess. Competed for a while too. “Remember when you tried to teach me how to play?” I ask, resting my cheek on my knees as I look at him.
He smirks. “I remember you were terrible.”
“You let me win once.”
“I did. And the smile on your face when you did is still something I think about.”
Tears burn in my eyes, the emotion hitting me out of nowhere. “She said you’re going to die. That you signed your death warrant when you came for me on that beach. Why did you come?”
“Do you think there was ever an option for me?” he asks, tone low. He moves closer to me. “Emma, I would rather go back into that cage and live the nightmare of my captivity over and over again—for the rest of my life—than watch you suffer.”
The tears begin to flow now, and I turn my head to rest my forehead on top of my knees so he can’t see them. “I can’t watch you die. I already went through that once. I can’t do it again.”
The swing moves just a bit as Dylan takes a seat beside me. “Emma.”
I open my eyes and turn my face toward him. He’s trembling, his eyes dark and his body tense, but he remains there, seated beside me. So close that our thighs are brushing. “You shouldn’t be this close if it’s so hard,” I tell him. “It’s okay. You can move away.”
“Not until you understand.” He takes a deep breath. “I didn’t walk away from you because I wanted to. Or because I’d changed so much that I didn’t love you anymore. I walked away because I was terrified of hurting you. I am terrified of hurting you. You were the only light I was able to hang on to, Emma. I’m trying to find my way back to God, trying to understand why He saved me. And now I’m thinking that maybe He didn’t let me die in that cave so that, when it was time, I could save you.” With trembling fingers, Dylan reaches over and takes my hand in his. He threads his fingers through mine and sits as still as a statue. “If that’s all I do with this second chance He granted me, then I’ll consider it a life well-lived.”
“I love you too, Dylan,” I whisper. “I never stopped.”
“It’s a lot to ask, but I need you to be patient with me. I need you to trust that I’m trying.”
“I do trust you,” I tell him.
Even though I want to squeeze my hand and offer him some reassurance, I don’t because I sense that it might be enough to push him over the edge. A suspicion that’s confirmed when Delta trots over and rests his head on Dylan’s lap. With his free hand, Dylan strokes his dog, and I can feel him relaxing just slightly as he does.
“The countdown isn’t real. At least, not anymore,” I say, hoping that returning focus to our current predicament will help distract him.
“What do you mean?”
“Harlow told me that she and Felicity had documents. Physical evidence of Gio and Heath’s criminal dealings. They submitted it to a delivery service for November 1st. They planned to have it handed over to the authorities so that they would have what they needed on both crime organizations to finally be able to dismantle them for good.”
“Where’s the evidence?”
