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Chapter 755:
She heard him move, heard his shoes in the water, and then he was in front of her, blocking her path, his hands raised as if to ward off a blow.
“Just listen,” he said. “Just p>
“I’ve listened to you for three years.” Her voice was rising, cracking, all the control she had maintained finally shattering. “I’ve listened to your lies and your excuses and your—your—” She laughed, a horrible sound. “Your love. Your goddamn love. Do you know what that word means to me now? It means nothing. It means less than nothing. It means you p>
Cole flinched. Actually flinched, as if she had struck him.
“June p>
“Don’t.” She tried to step around him, but he moved with her, holding his ground, and she felt something snap inside her—some final restraint giving way. “You want to know what I think when I look at you? I think you’re a thief. I think you stole my life. I think you stole my—” She stopped. Swallowed. “I think you stole everything that mattered to me, and you did it with a smile, and you called it love p>
The rain was falling harder now, blurring the edges of the world, turning Cole’s face into a mask of water and shadow.
“Get out of my way,” she said.
“No p>
“Move p>
“No p>
𝗡𝗲𝗐 𝘸𝖾𝘦𝗄𝗅𝘺 c𝘩𝘢𝘱𝗍𝖾𝗿𝘴 𝘰𝗇
She tried to push past him. Her shoulder struck his chest, and for a moment they were pressed together, body to body, and she felt the heat of him through the wet fabric, the steady thump of his heart—
Then the world tilted.
It happened so fast she had no time to react. One moment she was standing; the next she was falling, her legs giving out beneath her, her vision narrowing to a tunnel of gray.
She heard Cole shout her name. Felt his arms catch her, felt the impact as they went down together in the flooded drive, water closing over her face for one terrifying instant before he hauled her up and cradled her against his chest.
“June. June, look at me. Look at me p>
She couldn’t. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. Her body was burning, she realized—burning from the inside out—and yet she was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering.
Cole’s hand found her forehead. She heard him curse, low and vicious.
“You’re burning up,” he said. “You have a fever. The infection from your ankle must be p>
He was already moving. She felt herself lifted, felt the world tilt as he carried her, stumbling, toward the car. The door opened. He laid her across the back seat, and she felt the leather cold against her cheek and smelled the familiar scent of cedar and money.
“Presbyterian,” Cole said. She couldn’t tell if he was speaking to her or to someone else. “Now. Drive like your life depends on it p>
The engine roared. The car surged forward, and June let the darkness take her.
The Maybach blazed down the Long Island Expressway like a black lightning bolt. The driver leaned on the horn repeatedly, running two red lights in a row as cars swerved out of the way in panic.