And they couldn't be more wrong.
He tapped the gun he'd tucked, combat-style, in his boot.
could use it now if he wanted, take both of them out. Like shooting ducks in a barrel. That would leave the two women alone in the house, since Brian had driven off in a stone-spitting fit of temper.
He could have both of Annabelle's daughters, one after the other, both at once. A delicious mdnagetrois.
Still, that would be a detour from the master plan. And the plan was serving him so well. Sticking to it would prove his discipline, his ability to conceive and execute. And if he wanted to duplicate the Annabelle experience, he would have to be patient just a little longer.
But that didn't mean he couldn't stir things up a bit in the meantime. Scared rabbits, he mused, were so much easier to trap.
He melted back into the trees and spent a pleasant hour contemplating the light in Jo's window.
Yirby jogged along the beach, hugging her solitude. The sky to the east was wildly red, gloriously, violently vivid with sunrise. she supposed that if the old adage were true, sailors better take warning, but she could only think how beautiful the morning was with its furious sky and high, wild winds.
Maybe they were in for a backslap from Carla after all, she thought, as her feet pounded the hard-packed sand. It might be exciting, and it would take Brian's mind off his troubles for a little while.
she wished she knew what to say to him, how to help him. All she'd been able to do when he'd roared into her cottage the night before was listen, as she had listened to Jo. But when she'd tried to comfort him, as she had comforted Jo, it hadn't been the soft, soothing words she'd offered that he wanted. So she'd given him the heat in stead and had held on for dear life as he pounded out his misery in sex.
she hadn't been able to convince him to stay and sleep past dawn.
He was up and gone before the sun peeked over the horizon. But at least he gathered her close, at least he pulled her to him. And she knew she'd steadied him for the return to Sanctuary.
Now she wanted to clear her head. If the man she loved was trouble, if he was in distress, then so was she. she would gear hers up to stand by him, to see him through this, and she hoped, to guide him toward some peace.
Then she saw Nathan standing near where the booming breakers hammered the shoreline. Loyalty warred against reason as she slowed her pace. But in the end her need to help, to heal, overrode everything else. she simply couldn't turn her back on pain.
"Some morning." she had to lift her voice over the thunder of surf and wind. Puffing only a little, she stopped beside him. "So, is your vacation living up to your expectations?"
He laughed. He couldn't help it. "Oh, yeah. It's the trip of a lifetime."
"You need coffee. As a doctor, I'm supposed to tell you that caffeing isn't good for you, but I happen to know it often does the trick."
"You offering?"
"am."
"I appreciate it, Kirby, but we both know I'm persona non grata. Brian wouldn't appreciate you sharing a morning cup with ing. I can't blame him for it."
"I do my own thinking, form my own impressions. That's why he's crazy about me." she laid a hand on his arm. No, she couldn't turn her back on pain. Even the air around Nathan was hurting. "Come on up to the house. Think of me as your kindly island doctor. Bare your soul." she smiled at him. "I'll even bill you for an office visit if you want."
"Such a deal." He took a long breath. "Christ, I could use a cup of coffee. I could use the car too."
"And I've got both. Come on." she tucked her arm in his and walked away from the shore. "So, the Hathaways gave you a rough time."
"Oh, I don't know they were fairly gracious all in all. That southern hospitality. My father raped and murdered your mother, I tell them. Hell, nobody even tried to lynch me."
"Nathan." she paused at the base of her steps. "It's a hell of a mess, and a terrible tragedy all around. But none of them will blame you once they're able to think it through."
"Jo doesn't. Of all of them, she's the most vulnerable because of it, but she doesn't."
"she loves you."
"she may yet get over that. Lexy didn't," he murmured. "she looked me straight in the eye, her cheeks still wet from crying, and told me none of it was my responsibility."
"Lexy uses pretenses and masks and foolishness and uses them expertly. So she can see through them and cut to the bone faster than most." she opened her door, turned back to him. "And Nathan, none of it is, or was, your responsibility."
"I know that intellectually, and I'd almost convinced myself of it emotionally-I wanted to because I wanted Jo. But it's not over, Yirby.