From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(89)

“No, there’s some family reunion going on.” He pulled around to park near the stairs where their room was.

“Only in Bumscrew, South Dakota.”

“Don’t worry, Jo. There’s a couch. I’ll be fine there.” He parked the car, and they both got out.

“Don’t be an idiot, Jon. You’re six foot four. Just sleep in the bed with me, but remember, if you touch me, I’ll break every bone in whichever limb disobeys.”

He laughed as he grabbed their bags. “Noted.”

They dragged themselves into the hotel, and Josie rummaged around in her bag for her pajamas and toiletries.

“Shower,” she grumbled as she headed for the bathroom.

Jon plugged in their phones and Josie’s laptop before prepping the room for sleep, closing the curtains and adjusting the furnace. All the while, he worried over her, hoping she was all right, hoping that sleep would serve her well and she’d wake up feeling right and rested.

The door opened, and Josie walked out of the bathroom in front of a cloud of steam. Her wet hair had been twisted into a knot on top of her head, and he could see the curve of her naked breasts under her V-neck. His eyes followed the long line of her bare legs in sleep shorts, down to her feet.

His breath caught, his hands tingling as he fought the urge to get up and pull her into his arms. He wanted to let her hair down, let it fall all over him, wanted to run his nose down her neck to smell her soap, wanted to—

Stop.

She fell face-first into bed, nestling under the covers where she fell asleep almost instantly, the comforter rising and falling with her breath. He took a long, cold shower and pulled on his sleep pants with chattering teeth before slipping into bed next to her, overwhelmed by her nearness. She was close enough to touch but so far out of his reach.

And he counted every mistake that kept him from her as he slowly fell asleep.



Dust motes danced in the sunlight of Josie’s living room as she sat across from Hannah Mills’s parents with Anne at her side, watching their tears fall as they begged for help with finding who had taken their daughter. Their tears fell and fell as they embraced, and then their bodies came together, melting into each other, joined by a single tear that ran backward into an eye.

Rhodes’s eye.

His face was placid as he lied to Josie about Hannah. She knew he had taken the girl, her mind screaming that he was a killer as she sat in his living room, sipping lemonade.

She stood and touched the cold doorknob before opening the door, and she was crossing the threshold of her own apartment, just as it was the night he’d killed Anne. She relived every moment as she pulled her gun, stepped over Anne’s blood, pushed the bathroom door open. And there she was, her dead eyes staring at nothing.

But the bathtub wasn’t full of water. It was full of blood, dripping from her hair, smeared on the porcelain, pooled on the tiles.

So much blood.

She climbed in and held Anne’s face in her crimson hands as the blood began to rise, climbing up Josie’s body, pulling her in, whispering to give up, to let go, to submit, to follow Anne. She screamed and grabbed the shower curtain, pulling it off the rings with a string of pops, gripping the edge of the tub until she couldn’t hang on, her fingers slipping as it dragged her down until only her eyes and nose and lips were free.

Then, it pulled her under.

Hands were on her shoulders, pulling her out, bringing her back. Saving her. She heard her name.

Her eyes flew open, and she was in the hotel. Jon hovered over her, worry creasing his face as he searched hers. A sob escaped her throat, clenched tight and burning.

“Josie.” The tenderness in his voice unraveled her, and she crumpled, curling into him, crying into his bare chest in broken, choked sobs.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair, whispering that it would be all right, that he was there, saying Shh in a way that healed her and hurt her and broke her.

When he leaned back, she lifted her face to his. And when she kissed him, when she pressed her lips to his, there was no thought, only decision and sweet relief.

He was everything she remembered, his lips strong and hot, arching into hers, and every curve of his body she knew by heart and memory pressed against her. His hands found her hair, unraveling her bun. His lips were hard as she kissed him back with all the love in her heart, all the pain, all the want and wishing.

All the waiting, all gone, all satisfied. And, for that one long moment, everything in the world was right and good and true.

He pulled away and looked down at her, thumbing her wet cheek. His eyes were so deep, so dark, his lashes long and sweeping as he looked down at her, begging her without speaking a word.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded and tried to pull him closer, but he stayed put, looking her over.

“I mean it,” he whispered as he touched her hair. “Josie, it’s been a crazy couple of days, and I think maybe we should talk—”

She reached up and stopped his words with a kiss, a slow, hungry kiss that stopped him from questioning it, stopped him from doing anything but giving her what she needed.

But he pulled away again. “I’m serious, Jo. I don’t want to mess this up a second time.”

Josie just looked up at him, dumbfounded and hurt, too fragile to deal.

Tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t, not yet.”