chest. Nails scrape across his skin, burning deep lines in his flesh.
He twists her hair around his wrist and pushes lower, forcing himself to move backward toward the outer edge of what should be paradise. “Not this time,” he says. “You will not betray my love again.”
Her feet scrape the tops of his, movements slowing with each passing moment.
Her hands surge in a final attempt to free herself from her captor.
The roar of falling water gives cover to their struggle as does the remoteness of their location.
She’d asked for the islands for their anniversary.
He’d been more than happy to oblige.
Water bubbles around them, each thrash sending cascading lines away from the two of them.
The pace of his heart quickens as the finale to their tumultuous relationship nears.
Her hand dips beneath the surface.
He lessens his grip.
Her body ceases to struggle.
“At last,” he says. A step toward the banks drags her with him. He lets go and turns toward the ropes and rocks he’d left gathered there.
His arms weigh heavy with the tools as he brings himself back to her immobile form, face down in the crystal blue, Caribbean water.
He drapes rope over her, pulling it from underneath and wrapping it around a second time. “Just to be sure, darling.” His tone is calm and smooth, a perfect accompaniment to the island feel.
A tug secures her within the bonds.
He lifts the wrapped blanket of boulders and attaches them to her restraints.
Her body sinks.
He drags her body toward the center, where the water is near to his shoulders, and adds the final weight. With one solid shove—toward the falls—she disappears.
“Goodbye, my love. May we meet again.”
Paradise becomes hell.
• • •
Ian blinked open tired eyes. For a moment, confusion plagued him until he realized he’d fallen asleep on the guest bed in Tripp and Lexi’s house. His laptop still sat on his lap, cold from having shut off itself.
Two hours had passed.
She hadn’t come back.
Leaving his research and the details about Tanner, Ian rose.
The house greeted him with perfect silence. “Taylor?” Ian’s footsteps echoed through the empty hallway. “Girl, how long a bath did you take?” He continued toward the stairs, finding nothing. “Hello? Anyone?” No one responded.
Ian peeked into the third bedroom.
Not a soul.
“Maybe I’ll take my own bath.”
He slipped into Lexi and Tripp’s room, noting their bathroom door remained shut. “Taylor?” He rapped his knuckles on the door. “You decent or want some company?” Ian grinned at himself.
With no answer, he figured she’d gone out, but opened the door just to check.
“Taylor!” Ian raced to the tub where Taylor bobbed and pulled her from under the water.
Blue lips and the paleness of death reflected in her face.
He scrambled, sliding her out all the way, falling back to the floor, Taylor’s body spilling as fluidly as the liquid itself to the tiled surface.
Ian leaned his ear close to her mouth.
Not a bit of air passed from her to him.
He tilted her head back. His lips met hers, and he offered one deep breath of his own.
With his hands over her chest, he pressed to the beat of ‘Stayin’ Alive’ and moved back to her mouth.
Another breath.
More chest compressions added the crack of ribs under his hands. He wanted to stop, to not hurt her, but knew he had to keep going.
Another breath.
Another crack.
Her body arched, seizing into itself until she flipped to the side and spewed clear liquid.
“Holy shit!” Ian grabbed the towel from the rack and wrapped it around her. One lift up and she fell into his arms. He stormed his way out of the bathroom, through the hall and down the stairs. “You better not die. Not on my watch.”
Her head lolled to the side, but the blue tint had been replaced with a light grey.
With her still in his arms, he grabbed cell and keys off the kitchen table and raced outside to the driveway, beeping the car doors
He twists her hair around his wrist and pushes lower, forcing himself to move backward toward the outer edge of what should be paradise. “Not this time,” he says. “You will not betray my love again.”
Her feet scrape the tops of his, movements slowing with each passing moment.
Her hands surge in a final attempt to free herself from her captor.
The roar of falling water gives cover to their struggle as does the remoteness of their location.
She’d asked for the islands for their anniversary.
He’d been more than happy to oblige.
Water bubbles around them, each thrash sending cascading lines away from the two of them.
The pace of his heart quickens as the finale to their tumultuous relationship nears.
Her hand dips beneath the surface.
He lessens his grip.
Her body ceases to struggle.
“At last,” he says. A step toward the banks drags her with him. He lets go and turns toward the ropes and rocks he’d left gathered there.
His arms weigh heavy with the tools as he brings himself back to her immobile form, face down in the crystal blue, Caribbean water.
He drapes rope over her, pulling it from underneath and wrapping it around a second time. “Just to be sure, darling.” His tone is calm and smooth, a perfect accompaniment to the island feel.
A tug secures her within the bonds.
He lifts the wrapped blanket of boulders and attaches them to her restraints.
Her body sinks.
He drags her body toward the center, where the water is near to his shoulders, and adds the final weight. With one solid shove—toward the falls—she disappears.
“Goodbye, my love. May we meet again.”
Paradise becomes hell.
• • •
Ian blinked open tired eyes. For a moment, confusion plagued him until he realized he’d fallen asleep on the guest bed in Tripp and Lexi’s house. His laptop still sat on his lap, cold from having shut off itself.
Two hours had passed.
She hadn’t come back.
Leaving his research and the details about Tanner, Ian rose.
The house greeted him with perfect silence. “Taylor?” Ian’s footsteps echoed through the empty hallway. “Girl, how long a bath did you take?” He continued toward the stairs, finding nothing. “Hello? Anyone?” No one responded.
Ian peeked into the third bedroom.
Not a soul.
“Maybe I’ll take my own bath.”
He slipped into Lexi and Tripp’s room, noting their bathroom door remained shut. “Taylor?” He rapped his knuckles on the door. “You decent or want some company?” Ian grinned at himself.
With no answer, he figured she’d gone out, but opened the door just to check.
“Taylor!” Ian raced to the tub where Taylor bobbed and pulled her from under the water.
Blue lips and the paleness of death reflected in her face.
He scrambled, sliding her out all the way, falling back to the floor, Taylor’s body spilling as fluidly as the liquid itself to the tiled surface.
Ian leaned his ear close to her mouth.
Not a bit of air passed from her to him.
He tilted her head back. His lips met hers, and he offered one deep breath of his own.
With his hands over her chest, he pressed to the beat of ‘Stayin’ Alive’ and moved back to her mouth.
Another breath.
More chest compressions added the crack of ribs under his hands. He wanted to stop, to not hurt her, but knew he had to keep going.
Another breath.
Another crack.
Her body arched, seizing into itself until she flipped to the side and spewed clear liquid.
“Holy shit!” Ian grabbed the towel from the rack and wrapped it around her. One lift up and she fell into his arms. He stormed his way out of the bathroom, through the hall and down the stairs. “You better not die. Not on my watch.”
Her head lolled to the side, but the blue tint had been replaced with a light grey.
With her still in his arms, he grabbed cell and keys off the kitchen table and raced outside to the driveway, beeping the car doors
Similar Books
