“Get Liesel off the boat—now. There is a small speedboat at the back. Take it.”
Maxwell nods, and then he calmly walks toward Liesel. I keep the gun aimed at him, unsure if he’s going to try something stupid.
He bends down in front of Liesel, who is in an entirely different world. She has no tears left; there are just dry streaks on her cheeks where her tears once were. But her crying won’t be enough to get her torment out. It will live with her for a long time.
I’ve felt the death of someone I loved before. It never leaves you. I feel for Liesel, I do. But right now, I have to make sure that I don’t have to endure the same level of pain with Siren.
Maxwell says something to her that I can’t hear. She doesn’t react.
He carefully slips his arms underneath her, afraid that she’s going to lash out or do something to get them both killed.
He lifts her up, cradling her honeymoon-style.
I continue to aim the gun at him, as my heart explodes, watching Liesel so vulnerable in another man’s arms and not going to her. How did things get so fucked up? How did the girl I used to do anything to protect become this?
Because I failed to protect her from the danger.
Maxwell carries Liesel past me, and I don’t turn to look at her. I pocket the gun, and then I turn back to Zeke and Siren. She’s still breathing, but there is so much fucking blood. It’s all over Zeke’s lap.
This isn’t something that Zeke and I can fix. Only the best surgeon in the world, with the help of a miracle, would be able to save Siren.
I run up to the top deck and wave Enzo down in the helicopter, knowing that’s the fastest way to get Siren to shore.
Finally, I’m able to feel the rage for the possibility that Siren might die.
That can’t happen.
I turn, just as I see Maxwell and Liesel disappear out of sight.
In a split second, I’ve changed my mind. Liesel has to die for what she did to Siren and for what she did before. I can’t wait much longer to kill her.
“One month.”
2
Liesel
My stomach heaves up and then slams down.
Over and over.
That’s what rough waves will do to you—make you lose your stomach until you eventually vomit.
Losing someone you love will also do it.
I’m sure I’m in shock. That’s what’s happening. It’s why I can’t feel anything. I’m numb to touch, to motion, to the sea salt splashing in my face.
“Twenty more minutes,” I hear Maxwell say, but his voice sounds far off in the distance. I can hear him, but his words don’t matter.
I just lost everything.
I lost everything I’ve ever cared about. Everything I’ve ever fought for. Everything I’ve ever considered loving—I lost it all.
I’ve lost a lot in my life.
My parents.
My innocence.