Heroes Are My Weakness(68)

Not me, Annie thought. Livia’s attachment was to Scamp.

Jaycie’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe I’ve hurt you, too. After everything you’ve done for me.”

Livia raced into the room, her presence putting an end to their conversation.


AFTER ANNIE HAD LEFT FOR Harp House, Theo moved into the living room to write, but the change of scenery hadn’t helped. The damned kid wouldn’t die.

The boy stared back at him from Annie’s drawing. Theo loved the oversize adult watch on the kid’s wrist, the cowlick the boy couldn’t control, those faint worry lines on his forehead. Annie had dismissed her talent as an artist, and while she might not be a master, she was one hell of an illustrator.

The kid had sucked him in right away, becoming as vivid in his mind as any of the characters he’d created. Without planning it, he’d ended up sticking him in his manuscript as a minor character, a twelve-year-old kid named Diggity Swift who’d been transported from modern-day New York City to the streets of nineteenth-century London. Diggity was supposed to be Dr. Quentin Pierce’s next victim, but so far the kid had managed to do what the adults couldn’t, elude Quentin’s pursuit. Now Quentin was in a psychopathic rage bent on destroying the little urchin in the most painful way.

Theo had decided not to show the boy’s death, something he might well have done in The Sanitarium, but this time around, he didn’t have the stomach for it. A fleeting reference to the smell coming from the baker’s oven would be more than enough.

But the kid was cunning. Even though he’d been transported into an environment that couldn’t be more foreign—an environment that transcended both time and space—he’d managed to stay alive. And he was doing it without the help of social workers, child endangerment laws, or a single supportive adult, not to mention a cell phone or computer.

At first, Theo couldn’t figure out how the kid was pulling off his miraculous escapes, but then it had come to him. Video games. Playing hours of video games while his wealthy, workaholic parents were conquering Wall Street had given Diggity quick reflexes, keen deductive skills, and a certain comfort level with the bizarre. Diggity was terrified, but he wasn’t giving up.

Theo had never written a kid into a book, and he was damned if he’d ever do it again. He hit the delete key, wiping out two hours of work. This wasn’t the kid’s story, and Theo had to get back in control before the little prick took over.

He stretched his legs and rubbed his hand over his jaw. Annie had repacked the boxes on the floor, but she hadn’t yet put them away. She lived on rainbows. He didn’t believe Mariah had left her anything.

But she didn’t live on rainbows where he was concerned. He wished she’d either stop taunting him with the possibility she was pregnant or give him some idea of when she’d know for sure. Kenley had never wanted kids, which had turned out to be one of the few things they’d had in common. Just the idea of ever again being responsible for another human being made him break out in a cold sweat. He’d as soon put a gun to his head.

He’d barely thought about Kenley since the night he’d told Annie about her, and he didn’t like that. Annie wanted to give him a free pass for Kenley’s death, but that only said something about Annie and nothing about him. He needed his guilt. It was the only way he could live with himself.





Chapter Fifteen


ON MONDAY MORNING, ANNIE STUMBLED out of bed while it was still dark so she could get ready to go out on Naomi’s boat, but she hadn’t taken three steps across the room before she jolted wide-awake. Go out on Naomi’s boat? She groaned and buried her face in her hands. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking! That was the problem. She couldn’t go out on the water with Naomi. What part of her brain had failed to register that? Once the Ladyslipper left the harbor, Annie would be officially off the island. But because the boat was anchored at Peregrine, departing and returning every day—because Naomi was part of the island—because Annie had been distracted—she’d somehow failed to make the connection. She must be pregnant. How else to account for such a monumental lapse?

If you didn’t spend so much time mooning over Theo Harp, Crumpet said, you’d have your brain back.

Even Crumpet wasn’t this dim-witted. Annie was supposed to meet Naomi at the dock, and she couldn’t not show up without an explanation. She threw on some clothes and drove into town in the Suburban, which Jaycie had let her borrow.

The road was pitted with frozen February mud after Saturday night’s storm, and she drove carefully, still shaken by how scatterbrained she’d been. For twenty-two days, she’d been trapped on an island that existed because of the sea, but she couldn’t venture out into that sea. She could never make such a basic mistake again.

The sky had just begun to lighten when she found Naomi at the boathouse dock throwing some gear into the skiff that would take her to the Ladyslipper, which was anchored in the harbor. “There you are!” Naomi called out with a cheerful wave. “I was afraid you’d changed your mind.”

Before Annie could explain, Naomi launched into the day’s weather forecast. Finally, Annie had to interrupt. “Naomi, I can’t go with you.”

Just then a speeding car skidded into a parking space next to the boathouse, sending gravel flying. The door flew open and Theo jumped out. “Annie! Stay where you are!”