Page 77 of Jetmir

I knew there was no way for her to get off the island and I had security cameras located on every side of it so even if she went for a swim, I would have gotten to her eventually.

Jesus Christ.

I didn’t want to think about Anya swimming through these currents. Even a strong swimmer would struggle.

Pulling her closer to my chest, I carried her down the hallway until I reached our en suite bathroom. The light cast a warm, golden glow across the white tile. I eased her onto the edge of the bathtub, making sure she was steady before letting go. She remained upright, her gaze focused on anything and everything but me while she twisted her hands in her lap.

The pipes groaned softly when I turned on the faucet before a stream of water splashed into the porcelain tub, echoing through the vast space. Steam began to curl upward, carrying the familiar scent of lavender and vanilla as I poured in her favorite products. The clear water churned into thick white foam, permeating the room with a strangely comforting fragrance and relieving some of the weight of the moment.

While the tub filled, I dipped a clean washcloth in a basin of lukewarm water. I wrung it out carefully until it was damp instead of dripping, then knelt in front of her.

Working slowly, I began gently wiping away the dirt and dried streaks that clung to her skin. I started with her feet and calves, lifting each one carefully in my hand. Then I moved to her thighs. A small shudder rocked her and I lifted my head to peer at her.

“Is that okay?” I rasped. Fuck, I loved her so much. I was fully aware that I’d lost my temper when I went chasing after her. The thought of losing her again had my mind spinning. And then I’d fucked her like a goddamned madman, not a husband who loved and cherished his wife above everyone and everything.

She nodded her agreement and my shoulders slumped with relief.

I rinsed the cloth and then moved on to her hands, unfolding her fingers one at a time and wiping away the dirt that stuck to her porcelain skin.

When I reached her bound wrists, I went to relieve her of the restraints, but she yanked her wrists away.

“Leave them.”

Shit, something about that worried me even more.

But I did as she asked and washed around the rosary. The beads clicked softly together each time she shifted, the quiet sound somehow too loud. Or maybe that was my conscience screaming at me.

Once I lowered her into the bath, I sat behind her and flicked a glance at the mirror, the image we made like that of long-lost lovers. She was in my arms, yet felt like she couldn’t be further away from me.

I washed her hair, lathering it twice with shampoo, then slowly rinsed it off and combed my fingers through it. I repeated the action with the conditioner.

Neither of us spoke. There was only the trickling water, the scent of lavender drifting through the steam, and my wife’s silence.

I repressed the compulsion to claim her again like a savage animal, anything to lift this weight off my chest. My heart and soul felt as though they were shattering as I watched her sad ocean eyes in the mirror.

Instead of resolving our many issues, I’d somehow fucked things up even worse.

She met my gaze in the mirror and my heart cracked in half. They were dim, tired, the skin beneath them bruised. It made me feel like the devil everyone thought me to be and it rattled me down to my core.

I was okay being a monster and devil when it came to anyone else. But not her. Not my wife.

“Anya, I’m so sorry.”

“For what? Obviously I wanted it and…” Her dispassionate words trailed off and her lips started to tremble.

“Fuck, that’s not the way I wanted you to come back to me.” I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face into her wet hair. “I’ve been losing my mind since you left me. You’re all I think about. Day, night, awake and sleeping. I know I fucked up. Big-time. But I meant what I said.”

“You said many things, Jetmir,” she murmured, her voice still dispassionate. “You’ll have to refresh my memory. What would you have me believe now, hm?”

Ouch. But I fucking deserved that one.

“I’ll fix your brother’s eyes.” She scoffed. “And no, I won’t kill anyone for it. I’m doing it the right way.”

She didn’t say anything, but her expression in the mirror was no longer numb.

“How can I believe anything you say?” she breathed, her hand shaking as she reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

There was only one thing left to do: I would prove it to her.