With a gasp, his eyes opened. I fell back, sobbing, as his lungs drew in ragged gasps of air. His skin pinkened, the color coming back to his lips.
“Gav,” I whispered, my hands holding his. The rope had left a mark around his neck, a deep red gouge. He coughed and rolled onto his side.
I waited for him to catch his breath. His fingers were splayed out on the floor, and I pulled back away from him. Now that he was back—
He was dangerous.
No.
He was a killer.
No.
What are you doing? Run. Run!
I shook the thoughts from my head. The muscles in my right arm ached, and I realized that I had strained myself when I swung the knife into the bedpost. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered except that he was alive.
Gav pulled himself up, slouching against the bed. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, then exhaled. I waited, scared, sitting on the floor.
Finally he opened his eyes. His voice was scratchy, hollow. He could barely speak.
“Why did you come back?” he whispered.
My heart beat fast in my chest.
“I realized what you were doing. I knew you wouldn’t let me go for any other reason. I figured out what you were going to do.”
He smiled, the motion making him wince in pain. He rubbed his neck with one hand.
“Kitten, that doesn’t answer my question. Why did you come back?”
The real answer slipped from my tongue before I could stop it.
“I love you.”
He looked at me, his eyes softening.
“That’s why I let you go,” he whispered.
“Because…”
“Because I love you. It’s a weakness, isn’t it, kitten?”
He smiled. Oh, lord, he smiled.
I nodded slowly, my heart swelling in my chest.
“Yes. A good weakness.”
His breath came back to him. He reached for the rope and took it up in his hand, turning it over and over.
“I was almost there,” he murmured. “Almost dead.”
The thought sent ice through my veins. Just thinking about his body hanging from the ceiling made me want to scream again.
“Did you see anything?” I asked.
“Nothing to see,” he said, tossing the rope off to the side. “I suppose now we simply have to live.”