Chapter 30 #2
Robinson bellowed and released Helena’s hair to grab at Evander’s wrist instead, and she staggered free, coughing against the smoke as the two men crashed together, grappling for control of the knife between them.
Robinson was older, but desperation gave him a wild, clawing strength, and he drove his shoulder hard into Evander’s ribs, sending them both stumbling toward a beam already half-eaten by flame.
Evander twisted at the last second, taking the impact against his own back instead of letting Robinson force him into the fire, and the heat of it seared through his coat even through the brief contact.
He answered with a vicious elbow to the older man’s jaw that sent him reeling, and in the same motion, tore the blade free and hurled it spinning into the flames.
Robinson did not stay down. He came at him again, bare-handed now, snarling something Evander could no longer make sense of over the roar of the fire and his own pulse pounding in his ears, and Evander caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted, and drove him to his knees with a crack of bone that made the man scream.
The pistol. Use the pistol. Get your vengeance.
The beast’s whispered commands were loud in Evander’s ears as he hauled Robinson upright by the collar and pressed the barrel beneath his jaw, his own breath coming in ragged, furious pulls.
I love you, Helena’s voice whispered next in his mind as he raised the pistol. I love you for your heart; I love you despite your scars. I love you.
The mental battle waged in Evander’s mind as he held her father in a chokehold, the pistol trembling ever so slightly against the man’s skin, and it was as he listened to the voices warring inside his head that he heard a very real one speak to him.
He looked up and found Helena; her beautiful face was a mask of concern as she gently tugged at his arm, careful not to touch the bleeding gash across his palm.
“Do not do it, my love,” she urged. “Do not become him.”
Her springtime green eyes crinkled then, a smile just for him, even as they were surrounded by flames, and he leashed that beast roaring inside of him for vengeance.
He lowered the pistol and shoved Robinson toward the ground instead, wrenching his arms behind his back to bind him with what remained of his own cravat while the mill continued to smolder and pop behind them.
By the time he had dragged both Robinson and a still-cowering Ingram well clear of the flames, the pounding of hooves announced Damien and Adrian’s arrival, a handful of constables close behind them.
Evander held Helena tightly in his arms as they stood away from the now smoldering mill and watched as the constables took hold of the two bound men.
“We will deny it,” her father spat out, now tied back-to-back with Ingram. “We will deny every single part of it. You have no proof of our trade!”
“Maybe not,” Evander said, rubbing soothing circles into the back of Helena’s head as he shifted his gaze down to the two men. “But you cannot deny the attempted murder on your daughter’s life. That alone will take you both to the gaol at the very least.”
“Helena,” her father said, his tone turning desperate as he shifted his gaze to her. “Helena, look at me, please. I never would have let you die. I would never hurt you. You know that, don’t you? I just needed you to lure him here.”
In his arms, Evander felt Helena tremble at her father’s pleas, and as she burrowed her face deeper into the side of his neck, he held her tighter.
She would have her own nightmares now, thanks to these men, and though he would not stop her if she chose to speak to Robinson or Ingram, he was certainly not going to encourage her.
A moment later, a flurry of questions began. Evander did his best to answer most of the questions, but as much as he wanted to, he could not shield Helena from the ones only she could answer.
When they were finally through, and Robinson and Ingram were being led away to their judgment, Evander drew Helena back into his arms. He was nuzzling his ash-streaked cheek against her golden hair when he felt her hands come between them and push him away.
“Helena, I am so sorry I let this happen to you.”
“Your secrets almost got us killed!” she snapped, her green eyes shining with hurt. “My father told me of the letters he sent you. Threatening you for weeks! Why did you hide this from me?”
Guilt made Evander grimace.
“I wanted to protect you,” he rasped, his emotions and the smoke lingering in his lungs making him hoarse.
“That is always your answer,” she said, shaking her head. “But keeping me in the dark about such things very clearly did not protect me!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking on the last word. “I nearly burned alive, Evander. I nearly lost you too.”
“I know,” he said quietly, and he did know it, felt it settle into him like another scar. “I was a fool. I told myself I was sparing you the worry. All I did was leave you unprepared for the one thing that could have gotten you killed.”
Helena’s chin trembled, though her eyes stayed hard on his.
Then, to his surprise, she rushed at him, grabbing him by the lapels and yanking him down so she could smash her lips against his.
At once he was lost in the kiss, and picked her up so her legs could wrap around his waist. There was anger in her kiss, but he accepted it, taking it gladly as their lips and teeth and tongues clashed passionately against one another.
Then she wrenched her head back, and the fierceness in her gaze rivaled that of his own demons.
“Do not ever keep secrets from me again. Do you understand?” she demanded.
“I swear it,” he panted, then pushed her head back toward his for another possessive kiss. “I swear it,” he said between kisses, drinking in her wrath and love as if it were the sweetest wine. “No more secrets.”
This time, as their kiss ended, it was tender. He bowed his head in submission to Helena as her soft touch traced down his ash-streaked face, over the burns in his ruined shirt, to the scars that lay beneath, no longer afraid that he would scare her away.
“Now take me home. I wish to bathe with my husband.”