“But you just told me—”
He takes a step closer. “I know what I just told you. And it’s the truth. I will always think of you. God help me, but I will.”
After a long, unnerving stare down into my face, Jasper turns on his heel and walks off gracefully down the path, like he didn’t just tell me that he basically hates that he won’t be able to forget me.
On the walk down, I’m more confused and discouraged and hopeless than I’ve been since I left Treeborn all those months ago.
—
Jasper’s mood shifts into a darkly brooding state. When we arrive back at the cabin, he announces that he has a few things to take care of and then closes himself in a room behind the kitchen I hadn’t noticed before. Must be an office.
Or an armory, I think, picturing the dozen or so spy films I’ve seen over the years and how they all seem to have a hidden armory somewhere.
I flit aimlessly through the house for the first hour, lounging in the living room and then making my way out onto the porch. When my stomach starts to growl, I go into the kitchen and rummage for something to eat. A peanut butter sandwich is the best thing I can come up with because I refuse, refuse to eat sardines, which is the only other thing in the pantry.
I take my lunch down to the dock, walking all the way to the end to sit on the edge and let my feet dangle in the water. As I stare into the dingy gray depths, I think of the pain Jasper has seen at the hands of this lake. I ponder the strength of character, the sheer will that it takes for him to come back here time and time again, torturing himself until he can get back into the water. And for what? To prove to himself that he can, that it hasn’t conquered him. The thing is, I have no doubts that he will eventually do it. Jasper isn’t the kind to let anything get the better of him. He’ll overcome it with logic and perseverance.
Just like he’ll overcome me.
My lip curls into an outward pout at the inner thought. Why can’t Jasper have just been a regular guy? Why couldn’t he have just been the bounty hunter I thought I was hiring? Things would be so much easier.
I correct myself. I doubt anything would ever be easy with a man like Jasper, no matter what his profession. It’s his fatal flaw. And I’m becoming more convinced every day that he is mine.
When my sandwich is nothing but a few white crumbs floating on the placid surface of the lake, I climb to my feet and backtrack a few steps to where a small boat is tied off. I glance back at the house. Still no sign of Jasper. I figure a leisurely row around the cove will be a nice way to pass the time until he’s finished. So, with only the briefest of hesitations, I untie the dock line, hop in the boat and grab the oars in both hands.
The whole trip probably takes no more than thirty or forty minutes, and only that because I stop several times to just sit in the quiet cove. On the still waters, I find that if I tip my face up to the sun, it feels as though I’m almost drinking in the warmth and serenity, sucking it in through my pores. The brevity of my trip is why I’m surprised when I start back and find Jasper’s tall form standing on the grassy shore, arms crossed over his chest and what looks like a thundercloud on his face.
My first thought is that something has happened. Has he heard from Dad? Is something wrong?
My heart speeds up and so do my strokes. I hurriedly propel the boat through the water, anxious to get back to the dock now. When I do, Jasper makes no move to come closer. He just watches me coast in on the boat, tie it off, leap out and run down the old wooden walkway.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, frantic by the time I get to Jasper.
Big hands shoot out to grab my upper arms, startling me. “What were you thinking?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confounded by his reaction.
“If something were to happen out there, who the hell do you think would save you? I just told you a few hours ago that I can’t get in that water!”
I frown. “Why would you need to? I was in a boat. And it doesn’t look like there’s another person around for miles. Why would I be in any kind of danger?”
“What if that boat had a hole in it?”
“Then it wouldn’t have been floating by the dock.”
Sparks fly from Jasper’s amber eyes. “What if you’d hit something and knocked a hole in the boat?”
“Then I’d have swam back to the dock and let it sink.”
For some reason, my response only seems to further agitate him. His fingers dig into the backs of my arms and I try to shirk away from him. “Jasper, you’re hurting me.”
“Good! Maybe you’ll think before you do something so stupid next time.”