I try to pull away, but his other hand settles on my shoulder, keeping me pinned against the wall with gentle but implacable force. To anyone watching from the kitchen, it would look like a loving uncle comforting histroubled niece. The perfect picture of family concern. But his words are poison, delivered in a whisper only I can hear.
"Here's what's going to happen." His lips brush my ear, voice dropping to barely a whisper that sends ice through my veins. "You're going to come with us quietly. No scenes, no dramatics, no attempts to run. Just a sweet, sad girl who finally realizes she needs help."
"And if I don't?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
His smile is sharp enough to cut glass, cold enough to freeze hell over. "Then your new friends will discover just how dangerous it can be to harbor a fugitive from a medical facility."
My blood turns to ice water. "What do you mean?"
"Sheriff Maddox could lose his job, his pension, everything he's worked for since leaving the military," he says with the casual tone of someone discussing the weather. "A law enforcement officer knowingly sheltering someone who escaped psychiatric custody? That's grounds for criminal charges, not just termination."
Each word hits like a physical blow. Gabriel, who chose this quiet life after whatever hell he saw overseas. Gabriel, who built this sanctuary with his own hands.
"Dr. Mercer could face federal charges for providing medical care without proper documentation," Uncle Richard continues, his voice a poisonous whisper againstmy ear. "The DEA takes controlled substance violations very seriously. Even a veterinarian can lose everything."
Colt. Wild, passionate Colt who pours his broken heart into healing animals because people have hurt him too many times. They'd destroy him for trying to help me.
"And Mr. Blackwell..." Uncle Richard's pause is deliberate, savoring the moment. "Well, wealthy men make such tempting targets for federal investigation. Tax evasion, money laundering, campaign finance violations, who knows what they might find if they look hard enough?"
Beau. Steady, honorable Beau who's spent his whole life trying to live up to the Blackwell name, who works harder than any of his ranch hands to prove he's worthy of what he inherited.
"You wouldn't." But even as I say it, I know he would. I know exactly how far Uncle Richard will go to get what he wants.
"I have the resources to fabricate medical records and police reports, darling," he says with the calm confidence of a man who's done it before. "I have judges on speed dial and senators in my pocket. What makes you think I can't fabricate tax documents or drug trafficking evidence?"
His hand cups my face with false tenderness, thumb brushing away a tear I didn't realize had fallen.
The weight of impossible choices crashes down on me like an avalanche. Stay and fight, and watch him systematically destroy three innocent men who had the misfortune ofcaring about me. Go willingly, and lose everything I've fought so hard to build.
But maybe...maybe this isn't the end. Maybe it's just another strategic retreat. I escaped once. I can escape again. And this time, I'll be smarter about it. This time, I'll know exactly what I'm fighting for.
This time, I won't let him see me coming.
"They don't deserve to be punished for my choices," I whisper, hating how small my voice sounds.
"Then don't make choices that require punishment." He presses a soft kiss to my forehead that makes my skin crawl, and I have to bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood to keep from screaming.
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of surrender settling on my shoulders like chains. But underneath the defeat, something else burns.
Determination. Rage. The promise of vengeance.
"Okay." The word scrapes my throat raw, tastes like ash and broken dreams. "I'll come with you."
His smile is radiant, victorious, like he's just won the lottery instead of destroying a life. "I knew you'd see reason. You always were a smart girl when you put your mind to it."
He calls the men back in with the satisfied air of someone who's just closed a lucrative business deal. I watch theirfaces as Uncle Richard explains in his smooth, practiced voice that I've agreed to seek treatment voluntarily.
Relief, guilt, and something that might be grief flicker across their features like shadows from a dying fire.
"She understands that this is for the best," Uncle Richard says, his arm settling around my shoulders like a shackle disguised as comfort. "Don't you, sweetheart?"
I nod, not trusting my voice. Not trusting myself not to fall to my knees and beg them to fight for me, to choose me over the lies he's poisoned them with.
Gabriel steps forward, and for one desperate moment my heart leaps with hope. But when I look into those blue eyes that held such warmth this morning, I see only duty and obligation staring back.
"Lucy...Lucinda..." His voice catches on my real name like it's a foreign word. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
What I want?I want to scream until my throat bleeds. I want to throw myself into his arms and beg him to see through the manipulation.
