Chapter 73

Kayla leanedagainst her mother for support while her wobbly legs remembered how to walk.

After escaping the burning house through the bedroom’s French doors, Jillian half-dragged, half-carried Kayla into the woods, fleeing in nothing but their pajamas and, in Kayla’s case, stockinged feet.

So far, her tender flesh had found every jutting thorn, sharp stone, and hidden stump.

When she went down for the dozenth time, she took Jillian with her. The older woman released a bone-rattling cough, then sprawled back on the forest floor, her stamina no doubt reaching its end.

Who could blame her? Kayla wasn’t a small woman. For Jillian to have gotten them this far was a testament to her mother’s single-minded determination to safeguard her daughter.

And Kayla was her daughter, in every sense that was important. Vicky might have given her birth, but she hadn’t guided Kayla through all the tricky parts of life. Sure, she’d swooped in and offered Kayla much-needed advice or uplifted her spirits, from time to time.

But she hadn’t made the million and one sacrifices mothers did for their children, as Jillian had.

It was time for Kayla to make a sacrifice. “Mama, you need to leave me.”

“No!”

“With the terrain the way it is, there’s no way I’m making it to the nearest neighbor. But you can.”

Jillian shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.” Purple shadows smudged the underside of her eyes and deep hollows pressed into her cheeks.

“It’s the only way we’ll both make it out of this alive. I know you’ve already gone through the various scenarios and have landed on the same conclusion.” Kayla fumbled for her hand. “But your motherly instincts are clashing with your logic.”

Jillian’s breaths were hard and fast, but Kayla could tell she was listening.

“Don’t let your fear win,” she echoed her mother’s sentiment from what seemed like a million years ago, when in fact it had only been days since the fundraiser. Kayla lifted up onto her elbows and looked around. “I can stay hidden until help arrives.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I. But it’s our best chance of surviving this.”

An image surfaced, of Ash being led away, injured, and with a promise burning in his eyes.

Along with something more.

Outside the bar, he’d been a breath away from declaring his feelings for her—until she’d stopped him. What had possessed her to stop him from saying words she wanted to hear, needed to hear?

Kayla drew in a slow breath and rolled the tension from her shoulders.

Whatever it took.

She would do whatever it took to get through this nightmare, then she’d demand the words from Ash. No, she would gift him with the words first.

No more hiding her feelings, no more playing it cool.

I love you, Ash. Hold on.

A small, insidious voice whispered along the smoke-drenched breeze. You’re too late.