Saying no could be a death wish.
But saying yes . . .
“Of course, I’ll stay.” Maybe if Olivia told him that, it would keep her alive longer so she could escape.
Maybe her plan of action should be to act as if she was on his side. It was risky but . . . what other choice did she have? They were adrift, the boat rocking back and forth, and no one else knew where she was or who she was with.
“Why roses?” She wasn’t sure where the question came from, but this side of Wes didn’t match the one she knew.
Her Wes liked burping and football and jokes.
But psycho Wes liked roses and gardening and make-believe romance.
“Did you know I was married before?” Wes’ cheek twitched as he asked the question.
“You were? You never told me that.”
“Her name was Leesa. She loved gardening. Taught me so much about how to take care of plants.”
Everything around her went still. She didn’t like where this might be going. “What happened?”
“She left me.” His gaze hardened. “On Valentine’s Day. Can you believe it? I came home and found a note she left for me—along with a single rose. Then she laughed to her friends about how pathetic I was. One of them told me about it.”
“That’s terrible, Wes.” That was where his own emotional trauma came into play.
And this whole twisted plan had been born.
“When Leesa died, I made sure to plant roses on her grave. It was my way of keeping her memory alive.”
Her breath caught as his words settled in her mind.
“Leesa died? Did you . . . ?” She couldn’t finish the question.
His eyes gleamed, but he didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
This man was even more twisted than she thought.
CHAPTERFIFTY-EIGHT
Tyson scanned the horizon,looking for any sign of that boat.
So far, he hadn’t seen anything. But the nighttime was inky black, and the water was rough. The most he could hope for was to see some of the running lights on the boat.
But if the person who’d taken Olivia was smart enough, he would have cut them off and then all but disappeared into the sea.
Tyson should have known better. Should have kept a better eye on Olivia.
Yet he knew he couldn’t control her. She’d made this choice of her own free will.
But if she’d only talked to him, he could have convinced her to stay.
Maybe.
The boat continued to buzz through the water.
“You see what you’re looking for yet?” asked Walleye—that was the name the fisherman had given himself.