Chapter 65

CHAPTER 65

F ernanda had pulled us up the bank and any negative thoughts I had about llamas were gone for good. But mostly, I couldn't let Rose go. She'd almost died saving me. She'd?—

"Well, the Geoffrey problem is solved," Betty said, untying the rope from around Rose's waist and coiling it up to put it in Fernanda's backpack. She pointed much farther downstream.

Geoffrey's body was jammed between two large rocks, head underwater, one arm and shoulder above.

He wasn't moving. We all watched, afraid that like in some horror movie he'd come alive once more and tear himself free. But a couple of minutes passed. More than enough time with his head submerged.

Geoffrey Nice was finally dead.

But we were going to fucking autopsy that body and DNA-test it.

And then smoke it.

"I saw him," Betty said. "Just before he got stuck. He was looking this way at the two of you. He saw Rose kiss you and he knew it was over and just gave up and let the river take him."

"Why?" Rose said. "He was nuts, why would he just give up?"

Betty looked at her. "I think he really loved you in his own twisted way, and he knew you loved Max. Love, that kind of love, can be a real bitch. He couldn't face the rest of his life without you." She looked at me. "The question is, can you face the rest of yours without Rose?"

I ignored her to pat Fernanda. I was now a big llama fan.

Luke drove up in his van and leapt out, weapon at the ready. We pointed out Geoffrey's body in the river, and he said he'd recover the body and take it back to Melissa's.

Rowan pulled up in the Pathfinder and drove us back to Oddities. Poppy looked up when we came in and drew in her breath, and Marley put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's all right," Rose said. "It really is over now."

We told Poppy and Marley everything, and then Rose and I had a hot shower for medicinal and other purposes. I tried to think of it as just more shower sex with Rose, but I'd almost lost her forever; she'd risked her life to save me; leaving her meant she'd still be alive somewhere, but losing her to death, losing her forever . . .

"I love you," I said as the hot water pounded down on us, and I meant it.

She shook her head, soapy curls bouncing. "You don't have to say it just because I did."

" I love you ," I said, and I kissed her, and when we went into the bedroom and she pulled me down on the bed, I made love to her, real love, admitting it for the first time and trying to show her how much I cared, taking my time, telling her that she was my other half, that she was important, more than that, necessary, vital to my existence.

Everything.

My Rose.