“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Sebastian knelt and handed a few of the larger pieces of glass to Rita.
I slid the packet from my pocket and shook its contents into his drink. The tiny bits of ground leaves sank into the red liquid, all but disappearing before my eyes.
Sebastian rose and walked to the sideboard for another glass. He filled it halfway for me and handed it across the table.
Rita wiped up the wine and returned to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I called to her retreating back.
Sebastian re-took his seat. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.” He grabbed his glass and brought it to his lips.
I held my breath.
“Hang on.” He pulled back and peered at me.
My stomach sank.
“Let’s toast.”
“Oh?” I thought I might pass out from the sheer stress of it. “To what?”
“To us.” He held his glass out.
I took mine and clinked it against his.
With a smile, he put the glass to his lips and drank. I followed suit, taking two large pulls of wine.
From my brief study of Conium maculatum, commonly known as deadly hemlock, I knew that the most potent toxins resided in its leaves. When I’d asked for the plant from Gerry, I’d hoped no one would pay any attention to the plant that looked like nothing more than a smaller version of Queen Anne’s Lace. My hopes had paid off. When I’d returned from the city, the plant had been included in Gerry’s delivery.
I’d taken only two leaves from the plant, dried them with salt, and ground them down with the mortar and pestle. Six leaves would cause death. Two, though, would cause temporary paralysis.
Sebastian set his glass down. “Would you like to—” He coughed and gripped the sides of his chair.
“Are you all right?” I stood.
“I’m okay.” He blinked a few times. “I’m—” He stiffened and fell with a crash. My heart thumped with a thick beat of dread when he hit the floor, but this was the only way.
Rita rushed from the kitchen, her eyes wide when she saw Sebastian lying on the floor, his eyes closed.
I had to run. I wouldn’t get a second chance. “I’m sorry.” Tears blurred my vision as I dashed to the hallway and into the foyer. Grabbing Sebastian’s coat, I wrenched the front door open and snagged the keys from his pocket.
The ATV started right up, and I jetted down the front driveway, the brightly lit house at my back. Freedom was right in front of me. All I had to do was brave the icy air, my breaking heart, and the guilt that threatened to crush me.
I crested the hill from earlier and gunned it down the straight shot to the gate along the highway. By some stroke of luck, it was wide open. The ATV whizzed through the dark night, carrying me and all my hopes on its back. When I reached the open gate and sped onto the highway, I almost couldn’t believe it.
Turning right, I headed toward the city. No cars passed as I fled, but that was to be expected on Christmas Eve night in the boonies. The road dipped and fell, each mile slightly different than the last. At one point, both sides of the road rose up, gray stone walls shining in the moonlight. After a few more minutes, a sound began to encroach on the hum of the engine. A steady thump. One that I recognized.
All the blood drained from my face as a helicopter flew overhead and began its lazy float to the ground about fifty yards ahead. I looked behind me and saw headlights. A flash of hope died when I recognized Sebastian’s limo.
I stopped. All the hope I’d bottled up leaked away and disappeared into the frigid air. He’d caught me, just like he’d always told me he would. There was no escape. It was over.
The helicopter landed, and Sebastian—the same man I thought I’d paralyzed only minutes ago—stepped down and strode over to me.
41
Sebastian
The look of horror on her face opened a fiery pit inside me. I’d caused it. She was in pain, and I put her there.
From the moment she’d ordered the hemlock, I knew her plan for escape. I’d wondered if she intended to kill me or simply immobilize me. Given the amount of hemlock she’d dropped into my glass, it was the latter. I supposed I’d have to count that as a win on some level.
She trembled, but otherwise sat motionless on the ATV I’d left conveniently placed for her. It was sick, but I wanted to see how far she’d take it. I should have known Camille would do nothing in half measures.
As she lay in my arms that morning, I’d had a revelation. Beyond the simple fact that I loved Camille, I realized that perhaps she was right. My desperate need to keep her close seemed to be killing what little trust I’d built. And if that died, so would any chance of her loving me in return. That sort of finality wasn’t something a person could come back from.