Page 64 of Hush Money

“Yes.”

Tamsyn looks relieved. “I’m sure they’ll find her soon. How far could she get on foot?”

I say nothing for a second or two. This level of naïveté would be almost charming if this whole situation wasn’t so terrifying. Now’s not the time for the reminder that this exact scenario played out back when Ravenna had the sailing accident and managed to elude the best investigators in the world for two years. She’ll continue to fly under the radar the way she always does. Ravenna is proof that the devil protects his own.

Don’t think that the irony is lost on me. At least Tamsyn is simply naïve. Me? I’m stupid. I’m the one who taught myself to ignore my gut feeling that Ravenna was still alive. I’m the one who convinced myself that while Ravenna might be nasty, she wasn’t homicidal. I’m the one who should have known better.

“We handed over our security footage,” I tell Tamsyn. “Hopefully, that’ll turn up something.”

“And do they know what started the fire?”

“A candle on the end table near the living room curtains. Like Ravenna said.”

She gasps. “Lucien, I didn’t light that candle.”

“I know,” I say tiredly. “Ravenna did.”

Disbelieving laugh as she shakes her head. “Someone really tried to kill me tonight.”

My gut twists. “Yes.”

She nods and gives me a long look. Hard. Searching. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” I almost strangle myself on my own disbelieving laugh. “That’s not the question.”

She squeezes my hands tighter. “It’s my question.”

She’s got the Look. The one that says she’s not about to let it go. So I decide to tell her the whole truth. “I’m not okay, no. I’m sorry I ever brought you into my world. It was a mistake.”

She cries out, stiffening. “Don’t say that. I’m glad I’m here with you. I wouldn’t change that. And I’m fine.”

It’s a good performance, but I don’t believe her for a second. There’s a wild-eyed tinge of hysteria around her edges. I’m feeling it, too. Something about seeing Ravenna unmasked in all her unhinged glory has really turned my bones to splintered ice. “Why aren’t you angry with me?”

“For what?”

It’s a basic question. I don’t know why she seems so startled by it. “I’ve got one job as the man in your life—to be your protector. You should be spitting in my face right now.”

She gapes at me as though I’ve started braying like a donkey. “For what? Not predicting the behavior of a psychopath?”

“For taking this long to realize she is a psychopath. And for downplaying your concerns when you saw that flash of white at the tree line when Roman was having sex at the pool. Remember that?”

“Oh, God. So it was Ravenna. Spying on us?”

“Who knows what she was doing? The point is, I should have paid more attention. I should have had security?—”

Incredulous laugh from Tamsyn. “You did everything you could think of to do. I’ve realized that the great Lucien Winter is only human. I’m hoping that one of these days, you’ll realize it, too. Maybe then you’ll stop being so hard on yourself.”

I turn my head away, unwilling to receive this gracious empathy when I don’t deserve it. I am my own worst critic. Always have been, and that’s unlikely to change at this crucial moment. Also: add her easy forgiveness to the endless list of reasons why I love her so much.

“And did you forget that you’re the one who saved my life?” she continues. “Look at me! I’m not even burned. You’re the one who looks like a broiled lobster.”

I glance down at my stinging red arms, now slathered with ointment courtesy of the EMTs, with a dismissive snort. “It’s nothing. You’re the one who barely has any eyebrows left.”

That gets her. She laughs.

I swallow hard, unspeakably grateful that she’s still alive to laugh and has something to laugh about. But the laughter dies quickly because I’m not ready to forgive myself. “I never thought she’d do something like that.”

“Lucien. How could you?”

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