Oh God.
The tears fall silently and rapidly. Father is Father again, but the look in his eyes tells me without words that I've broken his heart.
"He's not a good man, Sara. He hurt you."
He's only ever wanted the best for his daughter, but here I am, protecting the man who kidnapped me.
"I'm sorry, Father. I'm sorry."
William's gaze hardened as he turned to look at Raaf. "If you ever fucking take my daughter away from me again, I swear to God I'll kill you a hundred times over."
He doesn't wait for Raaf or me to answer but instead works on anchoring the boat down before disappearing into the cabin below deck.
"Sara..."
It hurts to hear him say my name now, but when I turn to face him, I find myself crying again upon seeing William's handiwork up close. Raaf is bruised and swollen all over, has a shiner on his left eye, and when he cracks his lips open, he ends up spitting out another wad of blood before he can even speak.
"I'm sorry, Raaf."
"I deserve worse, for what I did to you."
I honestly don't know what to say to this, but my heart aches when I see a familiar sense of bleakness enter his gaze.
"Do you know," Raaf says hoarsely, "that Gerard told me the exact same thing?"
I know right away what he's talking about, and my heart aches even more.
"So if there's an idiot between the two of us, it would be me..."
A choked laugh escapes me.
"I'm sorry, Sara. I'm sorry I had to hurt you and lose you before realizing..." He gulps visibly, and I have never seen him look so vulnerable. "I love you, Sara."
The words stun me, but it's the expression on his face as he says them that tears me into pieces.
I remember this look.
I remember this.
It reminds me of that time—-
You almost scare me, he once said.
And now I finally see for myself that it is true.
"Did you hear me, Sara?"
He seems to have mistaken my silence for hesitation, but when he forces himself to sit up, it's obvious that he's clearly hurting, and I start to shake my head. "Raaf, no—-"
But he appears to misunderstand this, too, and the next thing I know he's hauled me into his lap, his arms closing around me like he's become my own cage.
"You don't have to say the words back," he says raggedly. "Just come back to me. Please. Just come back, and I swear I'll do everything to earn your forgiveness and gain back your trust. Please just come back—-" His words break off when he feels me struggle, and I keep struggling until his arms reluctantly fall back to his side.
I lean back to look into his eyes, and everything I need to know is still in his gaze.
"I really do scare you, don't I? In fact, I scare you so much that you ended up convincing yourself it's better to let me go than see me leave."
"Yes." He sounds sick as he grits the word out, almost like he'd rather hang himself than say it.
"But what if I do leave? What then? Will you give me your word that you won't kidnap me again?"
Raaf's face turns ashen. "I want to, but...I can't promise something I know I won't—-"
"Exactly."
He looks at me, stunned. "Gerard used that word, too."
"Because great minds think alike," I tease him with a teary smile, "and you're the lone wolf who still hasn't smartened up." I clasp his cheeks and look into his blue, blue eyes so that he can't ever mistake my words for anything but the truth. "You love me, and you won't ever let go of me. If I try to leave you, you've also admitted that you won't be able to help it, and you'll just keep abducting me. If that's the case—-"
I pause for a moment, just to let the words sink in before I close my argument, which is...
"What if I tell you I love you, too, and that I was hoping you would never stop abducting me, every time I try to run away? What if I tell you that there'd always be a part of me that would remain as your captive, and I'd always want a part of you to stay as my captor?"
Raaf sucks his breath in, and hearing it tell me that finally, oh God, finally...
"What then?"
"Then I'd have nothing to be scared of."
I throw my arms around him with a wobbly laugh. "Exactly."
There's a slight pause on his end, and then Raaf mutters under his breath, "I'm starting to hate that fucking word."
The Epilogue
Two weeks later
I'm not sure what shocks (and worries me more): that we're flying to Vegas for the weekend or that we're doing so by private jet.
The past two weeks have been eventful (understatement of the century, I know), and I find myself reflecting back on everything's that happened as the pilot tells us we've been cleared for takeoff.