My heart hurt. My head hurt. I couldn’t make sense of this mess.
Pressing my fingers against my temples, I begged, “Please, whatever you’ve heard, pay no attention. They have it wrong. Just—please take me back.”
Take me back so I can save him. He needs me!
My soul cried for lying about my brother—the one person who had my wellbeing in mind—but my loyalties had changed. Somewhere along the way, I’d chosen Jethro over everyone. He was my curse, my challenge, my salvation, and I wasn’t going to leave him when he needed me the most.
I’d forced him to notice me. I’d forced him to lean on me.
And now I’ve left him without any help.
The car didn’t slow. We kept driving...mile after mile of rolling hills, grazing deer, and dense forest. The car remained silent.
Fear gave me palpitations. Frustration gave me shakes. Ihatedthat I wasn’t in control. I hadn’t been in control my entire life, and this was just another instance in which men believed they knew better.
First my father. Then Jethro. Now these arseholes.
I wanted to scratch out their eyes and slam on the brakes. I wanted to scream and teach them just how capable I was.
Breathe. Calm down.
You’re free!
You should be happy!
To prevent myself from combusting, I glanced out the window. Our speed blurred tussock and seedlings. Acres and acres of woodland and fences. No wonder Jethro had let me run for my freedom. I would never have made it to the boundary.
Miles already separated me from the Hall, but I couldn’t stand another metre without Jethro.
Gripping the door handle, I tried to open it. “Let me out. This instant.” It remained locked and impenetrable.
A cough caught me unaware, residual liquid still in my lungs.
The policeman glanced at me, eyebrow raised. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss.”
“Why? Am I under arrest?”
The further we drove, the more my body hurt—I could no longer distinguish if it was from drowning or leaving Jethro in the hands of evil.
A smidgen of relief came unwanted. I was free. Despite everything, I’d gotten out alive—at the cost of another.I’m safe.
The officer smiled thinly. “You’ll be fully debriefed when we get to London. I suggest you have a rest.”
Every new distance, my diamond collar grew heavier, colder.
Every metre we travelled, my fingertip tattoos itched with spidery scratches.
It was as if the spell Hawksridge had over me tried to suck me back—gravity throttling me with diamonds and ink bursting from my skin to return to its master. As much as I despised being a prisoner of the Hawks, I’d found love with Jethro. I’d found myself, and every hill we ascended, I lost more and more of who I’d become.
My stomach churned as I remembered the gravesite with my family’s tombstones. Voices filled my head, flitting like ghosts.
You said you’d be the last.
You promised you’d end this.
I glowered at the policeman driving.
It isn’t over. Not yet.
