residence but no landline. Just a cell phone. And he began taunting me. Telling me what he would do to me and how my death wouldnât be fast and that in the end Iâd beg him to kill me and end my pain and misery.â
âSon of a bitch!â Caleb swore.
He pushed to his feet and began pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed. He paused briefly and turned, facing her again. He ran a hand raggedly through his hair and then gripped his nape in a gesture of frustration.
âI forced you out of hiding,â he said in a grim voice. âYou left because of me. Because you were afraid if I found you then others could too.â
Ramie wouldnât lie, even to make him feel better. Her tone had no anger or resentment. Just matter-of-factness. âIt was the longest Iâd ever remained in one place. I think it was the only time he didnât find me or at least he didnât make his presence known. But if Iâm right and heâs psychic then he would have known. He enjoys the thrill of the hunt. Itâs a high for him. Heâs a trophy hunter. You know, like hunters or fishermen have their own record books and when someone breaks the old record, thereâs this sense of glory, an adrenaline rush that is nothing compared to before then. He lives to taunt me. Heâd like to lull me into believing Iâve escaped him and when I donât expect him there he is. He wants me to suffer. Iâm his trophy kill,â she whispered. âThe kind hunters have preserved and mounted on their walls, the one that gets the special place above the fireplace mantel.â
He knelt back in front of her. He took both of her hands, drawing them together in his clasp. Then he stared her directly in the eyes, remorse brimming in his gaze.
âIâm sorry,â he said hoarsely. âGod, Iâm sorry, Ramie. I didnât know. I couldnât have known what it does to you. Or that Iâd lead you back into the hands of a killer.â
âCan you honestly say you wouldnât have done the exact same thing even if you had known?â
Her voice reminded him of cracking ice after a winter storm, though rare this far south, and the sound of the tree branches splintering away, their burden too great to bear any longer. He refused to allow her to slide away from him, like water through his fingers. He curled those fingers into tight fists as if to prevent that very thing from happening.
He closed his eyes and lowered his head. âNo. God forgive me, but no, I would have done anything to save my sister. I know you hate me. You have every right to. But as you said, I owe you, and I fully intend to repay my debt to you.â
âI donât hate you,â she said in a low voice. âI donât even blame you. In your shoes I would have done the same for a loved one.â
âHow can you not hate me when I damn near caused your death? When I forced you to endure being brutalized by a psychopath? You may not hate me, Ramie, but I damn sure hate myself for what I did.â
She reached out her hand and slid it gently down his cheekbone before cupping his jaw. He visibly flinched and his breath caught. He went so still that she couldnât even detect his breaths.
Warmth spread through her hand and up her arm before spreading through her chest like a wildfire. She yanked her hand away, appalled by the familiar way sheâd touched him. But he caught her hand and carefully put it back to his cheek, keeping his hand over hers so it was trapped.
âDesperation makes us do the unthinkable. How can you hate yourself for being able to save your sister? How does it help your sister that you hate yourself? Never let her sense you regret your actions because those actions saved her from certain death. Iâm sure sheâs very grateful to you for her life.â
âSheâs grateful to you ,â Caleb said gruffly. âYou are the one she owes her life
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