“What are you doing here, Edward?” she asked, backing slowly away from him until she reached the window. He looked happy but his smile didn’t touch his eyes. They were filled with darkness. He was going to hurt her again. She wished her hands would stop trembling.
“Did you think I’d forgotten about The Saga of Callum MacLeod? You banged on about it often enough. Your favorite book, remember? Godawful and clearly written by a talentless moron. Kerry the fair maiden and her highlander hero. I could never compete with him, could I? I was only real and here while he was dead and buried eight hundred years ago. Why wouldn’t you want him over me?”
“Are you jealous of a character in a book?” She kicked herself. Don’t give him anything. He’ll only use it as ammunition.
“I’m not jealous of anyone.” He stood blocking the doorway. “You know you stabbed me in my heart when you left? How could you do that to me? Why would you hurt me like that?”
“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head, trying to control her racing heart.
“Don’t what? Don’t tell my partner how much she hurt me when she ran out of my life? It’s time to go home, Kerry. With me.”
“I’m not your partner anymore, Edward.”
“Yes -,” he yelled before gaining control of his temper, “- you are. You don’t get to just walk away like this. After everything I’ve done for you, how could you? You made me look a fool at the golf club. I had to cancel the engagement party. Lost the deposit as well. I suppose you’re happy about that too?”
“You hurt me,” she said quietly, unable to look him in the eye. She cursed herself. Kerry in The Saga would be brave enough to look her enemies in the eye.
He took a step toward her. “You hurt me more. You know I hate having to punish you. If you’d just do as you were told, it wouldn’t have to be like that.”
“Leave me alone, Edward.”
“It’s time to come home, Kerry. Put all this behind us.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes you are.” The words were a distraction. He pounced as he spoke, his arms outstretched, reaching straight for her neck. He always went for her neck first.
She shrieked, leaning back away from him, forgetting she was in front of the window. Her legs tipped back over the sill and then with a sickening lurch in her stomach she fell out of the tower.
For a brief moment time stood still and she could see his arms stretching toward her, almost touching but not quite. Then the moment passed and she began to plummet down to earth, the tower walls rushing past, the ground coming up far too fast. There was the sound of wind whistling past, then a thud, and then it all went black.
When she opened her eyes she had no idea what was happening. All she knew was she was laid on her back with a splitting headache and two women in wimples looking down at her. “Praise the Lord,” one said in a broad Scottish accent, touching her on the forehead as she did so. “She lives.”
She tried to sit up but she couldn’t manage it. Behind the women she could see a castle tower. There was something familiar about it but she couldn’t place it.
A jolt to her memory. A castle. She’d been on a trip to a castle recently. It couldn’t be the same one of course. The one she’d visited was ruined and broken apart from one tower. This place looked brand new. It had flags flying, a slate tile roof covering the keep, guards on the battlements, whitewash on the walls.
“Call for the apothecary,” the older of the two women said to her colleague who ran off at once. “Are you still with us, lass?”
She tried to answer but the heavy veil was descending again. A second later all was darkness.
