Page 127 of Late Harvest

“According to a neighbor, who heard it through the walls, he kept insisting Etta tell him where I was. And she kept saying she didn’t know. The rest is all pieced together from various witness reports. There was screaming. And apparently he saw a disposable paper coffee cup from the hotel on her hall table, where she’d left it. I—I made her that cup of coffee,” Remy sobbed. “There was a struggle, and Etta fought him to prevent him from going after me. And Doug—he—he shot her. Twice in the chest at close range.”

“Oh my God,” Honor whimpered.

“He rushed out of there, screaming at Etta’s neighbor and waving his gun. As soon as Doug disappeared, the woman called 911. And Etta…” Remy wept, her body shaking with the force of her tears.

“Shh, Angel, ssshh,” Sebastian crooned. “It’s alright. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Remy wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, which shook hard. She stared at it, unsuccessfully willing it to stop trembling. She pushed a fingernail into the tip of another finger, focusing on that small pain to help face the much deeper agony in her heart.

“Within ten minutes of the emergency response call, Doug kicked in the door to my hotel room. He choked me and held a gun to my head, telling me if I made a sound, he’d kill me. I wanted to run, but I knew he’d shoot me. I couldn’t figure out how he’d found me but I was terrified for Etta and Tasha. So I—I went with him, my mind whirling with fear for my safety and the Remingtons’. At the same time, I was trying to figure out how to escape him.

“We were stumbling down the hall, his gun in my back, when four SWAT officers converged. Doug started screaming at them to back off. That I was suicidal. That I was mentally ill and I’d shot my best friend and had gone to the hotel to shoot myself. I knew then he’d shot Etta. And I could only pray she survived.

“But the SWAT officers knew the true situation. Turns out he hadn’t killed Etta immediately. She managed to tell her neighbor everything, including my whereabouts. Then she—she—she⁠—”

Remy broke down into heaving, gasping sobs, crying until her throat was raw. Her shoulders shook and her legs gave out. Sebastian caught her and slid to the floor, nestling her in his lap as he rocked her.

Chapter Sixty-Six

No words.

Bash

Arabella looked up at him with tear-drenched eyes, the brokenness of her heart shredding his with its jagged edges. “Saving my life was the last thing Etta did. By the time paramedics got there,” she coughed and sniffled, “she was too far gone.”

Her slender frame shook from the force of her sobbing. “Angel…baby,” he crooned through his own tears. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. She was so brave. She saved you. And I will find her when I get to whatever comes after this life and I will hug her so hard for that.”

“Dear God. I can’t even imagine,” Lila added, her normally bubbly personality subdued and sorrowful.

“What happened to Doug, Angel? How did you get away?” He tenderly stroked her face, wishing he could love away her pain.

“He went from claiming he was rescuing his suicidal wife to raving. His mind just…snapped. Doug bragged about how he shot Etta. Twice. And that now he was going to shoot me. It all happened so fast. I only pieced it all together much later when a caring detective—not one of Doug’s squadmates—showed me camera footage from the hotel hallways. When Doug announced that he shot Etta twice, I must have collapsed. That sudden movement gave the SWAT sharpshooter the look he needed. He shot Doug clean between the eyes.”

“And Etta?” Bash whispered, eyes brimming with tears.

“Tasha and I arrived at the trauma center at about the same time. At first, I thought she was going to make it. They got her back enough to put her on life support, but the—damage from the bullets was too much.” Remy’s body shook as she sniffled back tears she fought to contain, and Sebastian held her tighter. “Etta—she had on her license to be an organ donor. Her heart and both lungs were too compromised. But she was able to donate her kidneys, her liver, her corneas.”

Remy fingered the E necklace. “Just before the Honor Walk, Tasha gave me this. The staff lined up. Etta’s friends from school. Her neighbor, who was still bloody from holding Etta.” Remy buried her face in his chest, weeping raw tears.

“Holy shit, Doc,” Lila whispered, pressing her hand against her heart. “I don’t think there are words right now for how we’re all feeling. What I do know is that Etta’s last act was one of truest friendship. Putting her life on the line for you. I never met her, but I know she’d make the same decision again. And then saving lives as an organ donor. Did you—did you ever meet the recipients?”

Arabella shook her head. “I couldn’t.” Her voice was thick with tears. “I live every day of my life with profound guilt about the decisions I made and the ones I failed to make. You may be right about her sacrifice, Lila, but it never should’ve come to that. I should’ve listened to Etta when she warned me about Doug. I should’ve been stronger. Should’ve recognized his coercive control for what it was. Every abusive relationship begins with psychological abuse. And Etta paid the price for my utter failure to stand up for myself. It’s why I volunteer at the shelter. I started it during med school, and I’ve never stopped. If I can help just one woman, maybe I can atone for getting my best friend murdered.”

“Oh, Angel. You were so young. Doug murdered Etta. It was not your fault.” Bash brushed his lips against her temple. “And you were strong. You left.”

“Not soon enough,” Arabella responded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “For as long as I live, I will never forget the look on Tasha Remington’s face at the cemetery. Abject grief. The most excruciating of losses. No parent should ever bury a child.

“I thought Tasha would hate me. She had every reason to. But, instead, she just loved me harder,” Arabella sobbed out, fresh tears tracking down her face. “Saying that now she had to love me for herself and for Etta.”

“Where is she now?”

“Dead,” Arabella whispered. “About two months after the funeral, Tasha had a massive heart attack at work. She was gone before she hit the floor. The coroner said she had blocked arteries and had been taking heart meds. But I know the truth. She died of a broken heart. Because of me.”

Bash closed his eyes, visualizing the picture on Remy’s mantel. The one of Etta and Tasha Remington, their arms wound around each other, beaming smiles on their laughing faces.

He tried for words, but realized the best thing he could give Arabella right now was himself. His support. His love, pouring out of him and into her.

“I legally changed my last name that summer, in honor of the two most amazing women ever created. Arabella Torres was gone. I went by Remy—which was Etta’s nickname on the volleyball court. No one has called me Arabella since.” She turned beautiful sapphire blue eyes, now swollen and ringed with red, toward him. “Until you.”