we’ll wait and see.”
“I don’t die while you wait and see?”
He laughed. “No one has died here. Rekkus and Cyrus won’t allow it. You won’t be the first.”
They stopped in front of the cliffs. Cemil looked up at the sun and closed his eyes for a second before opening them again. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
She was seriously not going to make small talk. Every nerve ending in her body stood on alert. “It rained that night. We didn’t get much precipitation at the time, although the Midwest is flooding now, from what I understand.”
Cemil crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on.”
She stared up at the clouds, down at the dirt, anywhere but at him. Her skin itched. “They were out to dinner. My father lost control of the car. I have no idea if they were drinking. No one would tell a child anything like that, and as I got older I didn’t ask.”
“And they drove off the cliff and died.” Cemil nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“If you knew, then why bother making me talk about it? Or is this the standard ‘talking about it will make me feel better’ routine?”
“Your parents died.” He kicked a stone. “That’s not why you came to this island. Their death is not the reason you stowed away on a boat and risked everything to get here.”
Her throat went dry. “That’s my issue. You wanted to discuss it, and there it is.”
“Nonsense. You and I both know that’s not true.”
She turned her back on him. Childish, but it made her feel better. Slightly.
“I really don’t want to talk about this. Nothing will improve. This is my life. I have to live with it as it is.”
“No. You don’t.” Cemil touched her arm. “We make the life we want. Circumstances can dictate things. But your parents driving off a cliff—”
His words made her head pound. “Didn’t cause me to not have my own family, to not hold my own baby in my arms—and I’m almost too old to do it now.”
“Then why haven’t you done what you wanted? If you wanted to be a mother, why did you not pursue it?”
She turned around to glare at him. “Because people die. They drive off cliffs in the middle of the night. They don’t come home. What if that happened to my child? Or something happened to me? How could I face it?”
Tears swam from her eyes, and she did nothing to stop them.
“Those are real fears. It’s all part of living. Step out the door, get slammed into by taxi cab. Or maybe you die in your sleep when you’re ninety. You know that as well as anyone.” Cemil stared off in the distance. “And you’re not happy. These walls you’ve erected to spare yourself any future pain, they’re not working for you.”
“I know.”
That was why she’d come. Stealing aboard a boat and sneaking here had been a challenge. If she could face it, maybe she could find a way to do other things too. Maybe she wouldn’t be such a coward. Tears swam in her eyes.
“Cemil.” Damek’s enraged voice rang out into the quiet of the morning.
Amelia jumped and turned to look at him. Her heart rate pumped up.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Damek’s hands were fisted.
Her panties pooled with heat.
He’d woken up, alone, and for five minutes had obsessed in a frantic state, wondering if she’d died. Had someone come in and taken her from his arms and murdered her while he slept? His hands still shook from those five minutes that had felt more like five hours.
Then he’d stumbled on the card that Sage had written.
Cemil had come for her. Damek had stomped around getting dressed and then found them on the edge of the cliff she hated.
Everything had been fine until he’d seen her tears, and then he’d wanted to pound on something. “Why is she crying?”
He spoke directly to Cemil, because looking at Amelia made his chest ache. She should never cry, unless she were wrapped in his arms with tears streaming down her cheeks caused by extreme pleasure.
“As you know”—Cemil smiled—“healing
“I don’t die while you wait and see?”
He laughed. “No one has died here. Rekkus and Cyrus won’t allow it. You won’t be the first.”
They stopped in front of the cliffs. Cemil looked up at the sun and closed his eyes for a second before opening them again. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
She was seriously not going to make small talk. Every nerve ending in her body stood on alert. “It rained that night. We didn’t get much precipitation at the time, although the Midwest is flooding now, from what I understand.”
Cemil crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on.”
She stared up at the clouds, down at the dirt, anywhere but at him. Her skin itched. “They were out to dinner. My father lost control of the car. I have no idea if they were drinking. No one would tell a child anything like that, and as I got older I didn’t ask.”
“And they drove off the cliff and died.” Cemil nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“If you knew, then why bother making me talk about it? Or is this the standard ‘talking about it will make me feel better’ routine?”
“Your parents died.” He kicked a stone. “That’s not why you came to this island. Their death is not the reason you stowed away on a boat and risked everything to get here.”
Her throat went dry. “That’s my issue. You wanted to discuss it, and there it is.”
“Nonsense. You and I both know that’s not true.”
She turned her back on him. Childish, but it made her feel better. Slightly.
“I really don’t want to talk about this. Nothing will improve. This is my life. I have to live with it as it is.”
“No. You don’t.” Cemil touched her arm. “We make the life we want. Circumstances can dictate things. But your parents driving off a cliff—”
His words made her head pound. “Didn’t cause me to not have my own family, to not hold my own baby in my arms—and I’m almost too old to do it now.”
“Then why haven’t you done what you wanted? If you wanted to be a mother, why did you not pursue it?”
She turned around to glare at him. “Because people die. They drive off cliffs in the middle of the night. They don’t come home. What if that happened to my child? Or something happened to me? How could I face it?”
Tears swam from her eyes, and she did nothing to stop them.
“Those are real fears. It’s all part of living. Step out the door, get slammed into by taxi cab. Or maybe you die in your sleep when you’re ninety. You know that as well as anyone.” Cemil stared off in the distance. “And you’re not happy. These walls you’ve erected to spare yourself any future pain, they’re not working for you.”
“I know.”
That was why she’d come. Stealing aboard a boat and sneaking here had been a challenge. If she could face it, maybe she could find a way to do other things too. Maybe she wouldn’t be such a coward. Tears swam in her eyes.
“Cemil.” Damek’s enraged voice rang out into the quiet of the morning.
Amelia jumped and turned to look at him. Her heart rate pumped up.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Damek’s hands were fisted.
Her panties pooled with heat.
He’d woken up, alone, and for five minutes had obsessed in a frantic state, wondering if she’d died. Had someone come in and taken her from his arms and murdered her while he slept? His hands still shook from those five minutes that had felt more like five hours.
Then he’d stumbled on the card that Sage had written.
Cemil had come for her. Damek had stomped around getting dressed and then found them on the edge of the cliff she hated.
Everything had been fine until he’d seen her tears, and then he’d wanted to pound on something. “Why is she crying?”
He spoke directly to Cemil, because looking at Amelia made his chest ache. She should never cry, unless she were wrapped in his arms with tears streaming down her cheeks caused by extreme pleasure.
“As you know”—Cemil smiled—“healing
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