by Lili Valente
“I don’t hate you.” The lump in Hannah’s throat grew a size or three, making it hard to swallow, but her eyes remained dry. “Though I should. I know what you did to Jackson Hawke.”
Harley blinked, her brow furrowing as if she were having trouble placing the name.
“Don’t you dare pretend you don’t remember him,” Hannah said, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “Don’t you dare because then I will hate you. Forever. No going back.”
Her sister swallowed, her thin throat working. “No, I do remember, I just… I wasn’t expecting to hear that name. Especially from you.”
“I understand.” Hannah’s lips curved in what she was certain was an ugly smile. “I wasn’t expecting Jackson to come looking for me, either. I was totally unprepared. So was he. He had no idea you had a twin sister. He thought I was you, the woman who had betrayed him and ruined his life.”
“Oh my God,” Harley whispered, a trembling hand coming to cover her lips. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“Not as much as you have,” Hannah said, knowing now wasn’t the time to go into how she’d ended up on a private island with Jackson or how long she’d felt compelled to pretend to be her sister. They didn’t have time to waste catching up; they had to find a way out.
But she had to know one thing first. “Why did you do it?” she asked. “Why did you frame an innocent man?”
Harley crossed her arms at her chest, pulling the thin gray sweater she wore tighter across her shoulders. “God, Hannah, I don’t know. It was all so messed up. If I could go back and undo it, I would. I swear I would.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Hannah said, her voice cold. “I want to know why. Did you even have a reason, or did destroying a man just seem like a fun way to spend the summer?”
Her sister flinched. “I know I deserve that, but I promise you, I’m not that person anymore. I hope I have time to prove that to you and to prove how sorry I am.” She wiped the last of her tears away with her sleeve. “As far as the other, I convinced myself ruining Jackson was fair play. An eye for an eye, someone I loved for someone he loved.”
Hannah frowned. “Jackson loved you. I don’t—”
“Not Jackson, his father,” she said. “Ian Hawke was the one who took Mom away, Hannah. He’s the one who broke her.”
“What?” Hannah frowned but understanding clicked into place before Harley could respond. “You mean he was the man Mom had the affair with? When we were kids?”
She nodded. “Now I know seducing Mom was all part of Ian’s obsession with evening an old score with Daddy, but I didn’t back then.” Harley paced toward the two leather couches in the middle of the room and stared into the empty fireplace. “I just knew he was the man who’d ruined our family so…I decided to ruin his.”
Hannah shook her head. “That isn’t justice, Harley. Jackson was innocent. Completely. At least Mom went with Ian of her own free will, Jackson was just—”
“I know that,” Harley said, her pitch rising as she spun to face Hannah. “Believe me, Hannah, I know. I fucked everything up and ruined people’s lives and proved I was every bit as evil as that man who plans to kill one of us.”
She stepped closer, until only a few feet separated them, before continuing in a softer voice, “And I swear I would give my own life if it would make it all right again, but it won’t. The only thing I can do is move forward trying not to do any more harm.” Her tongue slipped out to dampen her lips. “And that’s what I’ve done and why I have an enormous favor to ask you.”
“A favor.” Hannah’s breath huffed out. “Considering I might die today, Harley, I don’t think I’m in a place to make promises.”
“You’re not going to die,” Harley said, a resigned look in her bloodshot eyes. “I’ve had a few days to think about this and I seriously don’t see Daddy choosing me. He knows you deserve mercy more than I do, and I think a part of him would like an excuse to bring Jasper to live with him.”
Hannah’s brow furrowed, but Harley pushed on before she could imagine who Jasper might be.
“He thinks it would be better with a boy, easier, or something, but he’s wrong.” Harley’s lip curled. “He’d get tired of Jasper the same way he got tired of us, and I can’t stand for my son to grow up that way.”
Hannah leaned back against the door, her knees suddenly unsteady.
Harley had a child? A little boy, who would be left without a mother if their father chose to spare Hannah’s life instead of hers?
Harley threaded her hands together in front of her. “That’s why I want you to take him, Hannah. I don’t know if you have kids, but—”
“I don’t,” Hannah said, the admission sending another wave of pain through her chest. Her dreams of love and family had disappeared along with her other dreams, on the day her sister had died and she’d learned she was a hunted woman.
But they’d come back. With Jackson, for a stolen moment in time that was likely all she would ever know of romantic love.
Harley’s expression softened. “Well, I have no doubt you’ll be an amazing mother. And I know you would love Jasper like he was yours. He’s such a good, smart, sweet kid, just like you were when we were little. And I’ve told him all about you so he won’t be shocked to see someone who looks like me.”
She paused, tears rising in her eyes again before she added, “I think it would give him comfort, really. And maybe someday he wouldn’t even remember the difference between his first mom and his second one.”
“Jesus.” Hannah closed her eyes, sagging more heavily against the door. Her thoughts raced even as her pulse slowed until her hands felt like lumps of ice at the ends of her arms.
“Please, Hannah,” Harley begged, her voice even closer now. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but—”
“Dad’s not going to choose me,” Hannah said, forcing her eyes open. She couldn’t fall apart now, not when Harley had basically confirmed that the only way she was getting out of here alive was if she managed to escape before Adam returned. “He won’t take Jasper’s mother away from him. If it comes down to making a choice, you’ll be the one walking away from this.”
Harley shook her head. “Have you forgotten who our father is? He’s not going to care about taking me away from Jasper. He’ll convince himself it’s for the best. If I’m dead, then Jasper won’t have to hide. He’ll be able to come back to the States and live like a prince and start kindergarten next fall where the kids speak English. It’s everything Dad’s wanted for the past five years.”
For the past five years. Hannah’s gut churned as she quickly did the math. Harley’s son was five years old, getting ready to start kindergarten, which meant she must have gotten pregnant that summer six years ago, which meant…
Jasper might be Jackson’s. Jackson could have a son.
It was a painful realization—she didn’t want to think about Jackson having children with another woman, especially her sister—but it was also a reason to love the little boy even more. Jasper might be more than her nephew; he might also be a piece of the man she loved.
“If something happens to you, I will take care of Jasper,” Hannah promised, knowing it was the right decision as soon as the words left her lips. “I will love him like he’s my own and do everything I can to give him a happy life.”
Harley’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you, moo. Thank you so much.”
“But let’s make sure nothing happens to you. Or to me,” she said, motioning toward the window as she crossed the room. “How do things look outside? Are there guards who will notice two women climbing out a window?”
“I haven’t seen any guards,” Harley said, following her. “But there’s nothing in here to use for a rope. I took the covers off the couch cushions and tried to tie them together, but the leather is too thick. And even if we could find a way to connect the pieces, they wouldn’t reach far enough anyway. We’re three stories off the ground.”
Hannah opened the window,
letting in the cool, but muggy, Florida winter air. She leaned forward to press her face against the screen, taking in the sheer drop down to the grass below. There was nothing to hold on to and a fall from this far up would likely kill them. It would definitely leave them too hurt to run, and then they would end up right back where they were now.
But Harley was right, there was nothing in the room except bookshelves and the two leather couches, no bed sheets or clothes or anything else they could use to make a rope.
“But there are two of us now,” Hannah murmured, gaze shifting left and right, trying to get a better idea of how far up they were.
The bottom floor had a vaulted ceiling—she’d noticed that on the way through the foyer to the stairs—but the next two floors seemed fairly standard sized. She guessed they were about thirty feet up. Cut that number in half and one of them would have an excellent chance of surviving the drop without being any worse for wear.
She spun back to Harley, gaze skimming up and down as she took in her sister’s clothing. The gray sweater wasn’t very thick, but it looked strong. If they used the sweater to tie them to something heavy…
“Let me see your sweater,” she said, holding out her hand.
Harley frowned, but obediently stripped off the sweater, revealing the tight gray tee shirt she wore beneath. It hugged her sister’s torso, showcasing the ribs clearly visible beneath the fabric. She was even smaller than she used to be and her arms were thin, but soft, without a hint of muscle tone.
Still, Harley ought to have enough strength to hold on to Hannah’s hands until it was time for her to drop to the ground.
“With my sweater, your dress, and my pants we’ve got maybe eight feet of rope,” Harley said, proving she could still read Hannah’s mind. “That still doesn’t get us close enough to the ground and we’ll be in our underwear when we run into the swamp.”
“It’s warm enough that exposure shouldn’t be a problem and we won’t be running anywhere,” Hannah said, eyeing the couch and deciding it looked plenty heavy to serve her purpose. “You’re going to be running into the swamp. We’ll have eight feet of rope, five and a half feet of me once I tie the rope to my ankles, plus the length of our arms extended when we’re holding hands. That will take you halfway to the ground. As long as you land with bent knees and roll across the grass you should be fine.”
Harley’s eyes widened. “And what happens to you after this circus trick?”
“I pull myself back up into the room,” Hannah said, trying to act like the thought of dangling headfirst from a third story window didn’t scare her half to death. “Ian wants to make Dad choose between us. He can’t choose if I’m the only one here.”
“What if he decides he doesn’t care about making him choose,” Harley said. “What if you fall?”
“I won’t fall.” She pushed on, talking over Harley’s next argument. “And even if I do, I would rather die trying to escape than sit here waiting for Ian to kill one of us. Jackson’s on his way to try to help, but his dad knows that and he’s moved up the timetable. He could come for us any minute.”
Harley blinked. “Jackson? Is on his way here?” She blinked again. “And he’s coming to help us, not to help his father kill me?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you as soon as we’re somewhere safe,” Hannah said, then added quickly, “but if you end up seeing Jackson before I do, tell him that I’m sorry I didn’t trust him the way I should have. And that I love him and I always will.”
Ignoring her sister’s bug-eyed expression, Hannah waved her toward the couch. “Come on. Help me move the couch. We’ll secure the rope to the legs.”
They had the couch pulled up beside the window, the screen shoved out onto the grass below, and had just finished ripping Harley’s sweater into two long strips they were securing to the couch legs when the door opened.
Hannah turned to see Adam step inside, a gun in one hand and strips of long black fabric in the other.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jackson
The driver who met them at the airstrip took them immediately to a marina nearby, where Mason’s people had hired a speedboat for their use. Within ten minutes of touching down, they were on the water, racing around to the other side of the island, the salty wind in their faces making conversation impossible.
They were moving fast, but Jackson had no idea if they would be fast enough. And when the hulking shadow of the mansion appeared around the next bend in the coast—a behemoth crouched on the top of a small rise, casting a dense blue shadow in the hazy winter light—the sight gave him little comfort.
The house looked abandoned, the windows dark and the yard overgrown.
His stomach clenched, but a moment later, the island Hannah had mentioned came into view on their right side. The snack bar was closed and the tiny dock empty, but red hammocks hung from the trees. A little farther along the coast, the palms on the opposite shore opened up, revealing a small private airstrip.
The plane with the red stripe down the nose sat at the end of it, only yards from the mansion’s expansive lawn.
Dom motioned forward with two fingers, signaling that he was going to continue around to the other side of the house. They’d agreed that they shouldn’t pull up to the beach within sight of the home—his father likely wouldn’t be expecting them to have acquired a boat so quickly and wouldn’t pay attention to a boat as long as it didn’t stop near the house. Still, a part of Jackson wanted to take the wheel and aim them straight for the mansion’s private dock.
Time was running out. He could feel it. The invisible tether connecting him to Hannah was being strained. Soon, it would snap. His gut kept screaming that he was minutes away from losing her and that every second counted.
The thought was barely through his head when a loud pop sounded from inside the home, echoing out across the water.
It was a gunshot, followed quickly by a second and a third.
Hannah
Adam blindfolded them before pushing them out into the hall. There, they were forced to fumble along with their hands on the wall and then to cling to the wooden handrail as they descended the stairs.
They were halfway to the first landing when Hannah heard Harley stumble behind her and turned to snap at Adam—
“We’ve already seen the house. I don’t see the point in the blindfolds unless Ian’s decided he wants us to die from falling down the stairs.”
“Mr. Hawke wanted you blindfolded,” Adam said in his usual low, disaffected voice.
“You always do what the Hawkes tell you to do?” Hannah asked, not afraid of the gun in Adam’s hand. He wouldn’t shoot them. Not until his master gave the signal, anyway.
“I do what the highest bidder tells me to do. Your father had the chance to pay up and make this go away, but he thought I was bluffing.”
“We can pay,” Harley piped up from behind her before Hannah could figure out what to make of Adam’s claim.
If he were telling the truth, what did that mean for her and Harley? If Ian wanted money in addition to one of their lives, would their father give it? Stewart had always been generous when it came to his daughters, but maybe blackmail changed things.
“We’ve both got trust funds,” Harley continued, “and I’ve made money on my artwork. Just let us go, and I’ll give you everything.”
“Too late for that,” Adam said with a sniff. “But I’ll do what I can to make it painless. Whichever one your father chooses.”
“You’re a fucking prince, Adam,” Hannah sneered, shocked by how much she wanted to wrap her fingers around the man’s neck and squeeze the life out of him with her bare hands.
He let forth a grunt of amusement, the closest she’d ever heard him come to laughter. “You used to be such a lady. Jackson’s been a bad influence. Watch the last step.”
“This is a mistake, Adam,” Hannah said as she stepped down onto the ground floor, her bare feet tingling as they touched the cold, slick hardwood. “If you h
urt me, Jackson will destroy you. You know I’m right. If I were you, I’d let us both go right now and run like hell.”
“I’ll be gone before he gets here. And as long as your dad chooses you, I should be okay.” Adam took her arm. “He wanted the other one dead anyway.”
Harley whimpered softly. Hannah reached back, fumbling until she found her sister’s hand and squeezing tight, silently promising that she wouldn’t let her die, not if she could do anything to stop it.
It didn’t matter what Harley had done in the past. What mattered was that she had a little boy who needed his mother. Hannah didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t live with herself if she orphaned an innocent child.
She knew what that felt like, how devastating it was to lose the person you loved most in the world. There had been times, after her mother had first gone away, when she’d been certain she would never be happy again. No matter how bright and sunny the day outside, her world had been a dark place. She wouldn’t consign her nephew to that kind of darkness. Losing an aunt he’d never met wouldn’t hurt him; losing his mother would destroy something sweet and sacred inside of that little boy that would haunt him forever.
She held tight to Harley’s hand, walking straight and tall as Adam led them into another room and abandoned them in the middle of a thick, padded rug that scratched the bottom of her feet. She didn’t know if her father was watching, but if he were, she wouldn’t show fear or give him any reason to doubt her when she told him to choose Harley.
“Welcome, ladies.” Ian’s voice oozed from somewhere in front of them. “I regret to have met you under such grim circumstances. Unfortunately, your father gave me no choice.”
“I’m here, girls.” Their father’s voice sounded tinny and distant as if he were on speakerphone. It had been years since Hannah had heard his voice and even longer since she’d heard him sound so hopeless.
