I press my lips to her forehead. Then Hale's.
Zoe has maneuvered the boat close to the service ladder, the engine idling, ready to move at a moment's notice. She doesn't say anything as I grab the rungs. I thank her and she nods, knowing what's about to happen.
Water streams from my clothes with every step, mixing with the blood still seeping from my side. The pain is distant now, shoved into a corner of my mind where it can't reach me.
Nothing could distract me from this.
I pull myself onto the platform and straighten to my full height.
Calder's made it maybe ten feet from where I shot him. Slumped against the door, tugging weakly at the handle with his good arm.
Locked out.
He couldn't even escape in the time it took me to save my family.
Pathetic.
His guards are scattered across the deck—some dead, some dying. The rest are nowhere to be found.
Unfortunate for him.
He hears me coming and stops struggling, turning his head.
And the look of crystalized terror in his eyes is something I wish I could frame.
"You know," I say conversationally, stepping over a body that's still twitching, "I've spent six months imagining this moment. What I would say to you. What I would do."
I crack my neck. Roll my shoulders. Take my sweet time.
"I had speeches prepared. Beautiful ones. Monologues about justice and vengeance and poetic irony." I crouch, resting my elbows on my knees. "I was going to make you understand, Ewan. Really grasp the full scope of why you were dying. Give you that moment of clarity before the end."
His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
Nothing comes out.
"That's new." I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. "I have to say, I prefer you like this. All those months of listening to you talk—wife this, boy that, I own everything—and now you have nothing to add? Kind of peaceful."
He tries to drag himself backward but doesn't get far.
"But here's the thing." I lean closer, dropping my voice like I'm sharing a secret. "Now that we're actually here? I don't want to give you clarity. I don't want you to understand."
"I have money," he rasps, scrambling for leverage that doesn't exist. "Guards inside. They'll kill you before you can?—"
"Will they?" I glance at the door he couldn't open. The bodies scattered across the deck. The notable absence of anyone rushing to save him. "Seems like your guards are having a rough night."
I smile, and he flinches.
"Here's what's going to happen, Ewan." I grab the collar of his ruined jacket and haul him up until we're eye to eye. Close enough to see every broken capillary. Every bead of sweat. Every fraction of the fear I've been dreaming about for months.
"You're going to tell me it hurts. You're going to beg me to stop. And I'm going to keep going anyway. Because you had years with her. And I've only got tonight with you."
His eyes go wide.
"So I'm going to make every second count."
I drag him away from the door, toward the darker end of the platform.
"Don't worry," I add, almost cheerfully. "I'll take my time. You taught me the value of patience, after all."
