Chapter 3

Caleb shoved Ethan out of the room and slammed the door. The nurse scurried away. We were alone.

His rage, having found its target in Ethan, now turned on me.

"You liked him being here, didn't you?" he hissed, grabbing my arm. "Thinking he could save you?"

He dragged me out of the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor. "You need a reminder of what you are."

He forced me outside, into the punishing glare of the Texas sun. The heat was a physical blow. He pushed a shovel into my hands.

"There's a new fence line that needs digging. Start."

I dug. The sun beat down, the dry earth scraped my raw hands. I worked until my muscles screamed, until sweat and tears blurred my vision. When I finally collapsed, my body giving out from the strain of the labor and the aftermath of the miscarriage, it was Caleb who scooped me up from the dirt.

He carried me back to the clinic, his touch surprisingly gentle. He laid me on the bed and cleaned the dirt from my face with a cool, damp cloth.

"You see?" he whispered, his voice thick with a strange, desperate emotion. "He leaves you to rot. I'm the one who picks you up. I'm the only one who will ever really protect you."

I drifted in and out of a feverish sleep. I dreamt of drowning, of being pulled under by two sets of hands, one cold and clinical, the other brutal and possessive.

When I woke, Ethan was there again. Caleb was gone, called away to deal with some ranch business.

"He's a monster, Jocelyn," Ethan said, his voice urgent. "I never wanted this for you. Not this."

"You chose this for me," I said, my voice flat.

"It was the only way! To keep you safe, to keep you out of the crossfire while I took down our enemies. But I'm ending it now." He leaned closer, his eyes searching mine. "I have news. About Molly."

My heart stopped.

"She's alive, Joss. She's well. I moved her. She's in a small town in the Pacific Northwest, new name, new life. The doctors say she's in remission."

A lie. It had to be a lie. But the hope was a blinding light in the darkness. The possibility of seeing her, of holding her again... it was everything.

Tears I thought had long dried up streamed down my face. "Molly?"

"Yes," he said, his expression softening with what looked like genuine sympathy. "Come with me. I'll take you to her. We can be a family again. The three of us."

I looked at his outstretched hand. It was the hand of the devil, offering a glimpse of heaven.

And I took it.

"Yes," I sobbed. "Take me to her. Please, Ethan."

He smiled, a triumphant, possessive smile. "I knew you'd see reason. Pack your things. We leave at dawn."