Page 255 of Come Back to Me

Once we’ve hauled her over the railing, I stiffen when Elena sobs against my chest. “I told you not to come here. John suspects something’s going on.”

Bast and I share a pained look, but that’s nothing to Theo’s expression when she shrieks at the sight of him.

“John! I swear nothing’s going on.” She presses herself in front of me. “Put the gun down.”

“I’m not armed,” Theo soothes.

Colt murmurs, “Elena, you need?—”

She screeches and pushes me backward with more strength than I might have expected. “YOU! I never want to see you again, Clyde Korhonen. You get away from me.”

Horror flashes on Colt’s face before he raises his hands. “I won’t, Elena. I’m sorry?—”

“Sorry,” she sneers. “Like you were sorry for hurting Helen Cartwright?”

Confused but desperate to understand, I ask, “Helen Cartwright, Elena?”

“She worked for the council, Clay. Untilhegot his hands on her. The same hands he tried to put on me last week. Said he’d tell John that we were sleeping together if I didn’t…” She sniffs. “Like I’d lethimtouch me. You know all this! I told you afterward.”

“You did?” I query. “Everything?”

“Of course. Who else would I tell when your brother’s the bastard who tried to rape me?”

The tension in the air mushrooms, surging higher, higher?—

“Did I tell you how I punished him?” I ask her softly.

“You froze his bank accounts.”

Colt pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I told you not to. I said he’d come after you.” She weeps the words as her hands touch my face. “I’ve missed you so much, Clay. Why did you have to leave me?”

My teeth grit as she goes to kiss me, but I press my lips to her temple and haul her into a hug.

When she breaks down, I just hold her, gifting her with something that’s only possible because of her failing sanity—the embrace of a man she loved who’s long been dead.

When she sags in my hold, Theo, jaw tight, swoops her into his arms and carries her upstairs.

Bast grunts. “She hasn’t tried to escape since the nurses came.”

“You think she maybe heard us talking?” Colt asks softly.

“Could be. Dad and Clay used to sit out here when I was young. She seemed…”

Exhausted, I mutter, “She thinks we’re them.”

“She thinks I’m Harrison Ford some days. Don’t put much stock in it.”

“How can’t I?”

“Don’t, Cody,” Bast rumbles. “What if…”

Colt runs a hand through his hair. “Best let sleeping dogs lie.”

Considering she gave John a motive as well as Clyde?

I guess I can understand why.

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