Out of the Dark (30 page)

Stefan couldn’t kill me, but could he kill Enzo?

I sink to the ground. I can’t feel anything. My chest is ripping apart. My soul is screaming.

Please, Enzo, please come . . .

He’s like an angel when he arrives in front of me, out of breath, just as I was. His eyes are wild, but his heart is beating. He lifts me off the ground and into his arms, holding me tight, and in spite of the cold, he’s sweating. Or crying.

I feel gratitude and remorse. My heart rejoices because the man I love is in my arms, alive. I don’t ask him where he was and he doesn’t tell me.

“Let’s go.”

He takes my hand, and I follow him, running down the snowy path. We run as if we’re still being chased, and maybe we are.

I’m with the person I’m meant to be with, and while I never could have planned for this, this
is
our happily ever after.

We will seek a haven, a salvation, but our success remains to be seen.

There are no guarantees.

Epilogue

As we speed away from Enzo’s childhood home, he grips the wheel with one hand and presses his foot steadily on the accelerator. We wind toward the rising sun over the mountains and don’t speak for a long while, both of us still stunned by the last few hours.

Eventually, after I’ve lost all sense of time and how many highways we’ve traveled, he takes my hand.

“Where did you go? What took you so long to meet me?” I ask.

“I left you in the office and grabbed my things. Then I went to the other side of the house, to Lucy’s room. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to her. I looked for her, but she wasn’t back from the hospital yet. I left a note telling her that I had to go away, but I would try to come back someday. I told her I needed her to be strong and to take good care of Icarus for me.” He squeezes my hand.

We both recognize why he had to lie.

“What’s in the briefcase?” he asks.

I had forgotten it was there, but I’m still holding it in my lap, my knuckles white from the tenacious grip I have on the handle.

Running away, running out of the house is like a dream now—a nightmare.

“I don’t know. Gemma gave it to me.”

His head jerks to the side and looks at me. “Gemma?”

“Yes.”

“I think I know what’s inside.”

“What?”

“Money. A lot of money.”

I click the latch open, and he’s right. Bundles of stacked hundred dollar bills. Thousands. Like a ransom.

Or a bribe
.

“She wished me luck.”

“Gemma doesn’t believe in luck. She believes in money, and thank God for that. This will get us to safety, Cari.”

Our mood shifts from lingering fear to hope. We aren’t trying to escape anymore. We’ve done it.

We got away.

***

We lie in bed together, in our new home—a modest, little cabin that doesn’t reflect our small fortune on unassuming ranch hidden away in Montana. We’re snuggled and tangled together after having made love over and over again for what seems like days, stopping only to eat or stoke the fire.

We had promised not to talk about what happened on that last night, but Stefan’s threat has been forcing its way into my thoughts more and more lately, refusing to give up, like stubborn grass pushing through pavement.

“I love you very much,” I tell Enzo in an effort to fight past that awful weed taking root deeper in my mind.

He kisses my forehead, pulling me closer to his naked chest, and looks at me with adoration. “I love you, too. I dreamed of seeing you like this—in my arms, in
our
bed. I love you, too.” He kisses me, and then gets up to take a shower.

I slip into my robe and go downstairs to make breakfast when I hear a car door slam. There’s only one person it could be.

The coffee pot falls from my suddenly numb fingers and shatters on the hard floor.

The figure of a man moves just past the curtain covering the kitchen window.

Stefan. He’s found us
.

There’s a knock at the front door, and a sense of enormous relief washes over me. Stefan would never knock. He would simply break down the door.

I unlock the deadbolt, but when I see who’s standing on the other side, terror grips me once again.

Rocco
.

I know he’s here to finish the job—to take my life and the life of the man I love.

He reaches into his pocket, and I attempt to slam the door in his face but I’m no match for his strength. He pushes the door wide, and I drop down, shielding myself with my arms.

I brace for the pain, but none comes.

“Mr. Savano wanted me to give you this.” He drops an envelope on the floor beside me.

Stunned, I watch as Rocco gets back in his car and drives away.

“Carina?”

I hear Enzo’s footsteps pound down the stairs.

“What happened? Jesus, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. That was . . . that was Rocco.”

Enzo runs out the door wrapped in his towel, but when he sees Rocco is gone, he returns to my side. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. He just . . . he gave me this envelope.”

I hold it out and Enzo tears it open. His fury-filled face melts into an expression of joy. He starts to laugh.

“What is it?”

“It’s a letter. It says, ‘I’m letting you go. I give you my blessing.’ ”

I shake my head in disbelief as Enzo embraces me.

I’m free
.

Our love survived . . . we survived.

***

In the fall, Enzo proposes, and I finally become Mrs. Savano.

Shortly after, I open a bakery in town, and Enzo starts a shelter on our ranch for unwanted dogs.

My father sells the house and moves closer to us after I become pregnant with our first son.

We never return to Ravine Creek.

Thank you for your purchase. Please long onto Amazon.com or Goodreads.com and leave a review for this title. We would love to hear from you.

Also By April Emerson

The Righteous and the Wicked
-
Small moments can seem insignificant until they change the course of a life forever. The sound of a bulldozer. A chance meeting at a gas station. A gust of wind through a chime. Benign events become something more when viewed through the lens of fate.

Emma Santori is a prisoner of tragic memories. Locked in a spiral of depression, she leads a desolate and empty life, trapped in her decrepit home. Rooted in routine, she’s numb and vacant. As a lonely Catholic school teacher, her only joy comes from her young students. One Saturday morning, her isolation is infiltrated by a mysterious architect building a home beside hers.

That man is Eric Wilder and he’s keeping a secret—a secret that’s destroying his life. Filled with guilt and self-loathing, he’s forced to move often. He chooses the small northeastern town of Pine Lake as his latest refuge, and hopes to make a successful attempt at starting his life over. As always, he’s unable to make that happen.

That all changes when he meets Emma.

She finds herself drawn to Eric when she accidentally bumps into him, but Eric’s unfazed by their first meeting. When a gust of wind brings these two people together once again, Emma discovers Eric’s secret. She’s forced to battle between her Catholic faith and her desire for this stranger.

Their attraction is intense and they soon discover they’re each lonely and longing for what the other has to offer. As their friendship blossoms, Emma realizes her passion and lust for Eric are the remedy to her depression. Eric discovers his feelings for Emma are the only antidote to his secret burden.

They begin an erotic journey, which leads these beautifully broken people to discover that love can be both righteous and wicked.

Download a sample at
The Writer’s Coffee Shop
.

Acknowledgements

I was inspired to write this book after listening to a song. The lyrics made me think about the choices we make, and what happens when we make the wrong one. I don’t write love stories about perfect people. I write about real people, and real people make mistakes.
 

Thanks to everyone who has supported me throughout this process. I must take a moment to acknowledge the book bloggers who have been such a great resource and liaison between author and reader.
 

Thank you Wendy D., Stephanie, Kristin, Glenda, Linda, Cynthia, and countless other friends for your support and kindness.
 

A huge thank you to my fellow TWCS and A2A authors who have been a virtual hand to hold and shoulder to cry on throughout the publication process. Thank you to everyone at TWCS for believing in me and my work.

Jada D’Lee, you see the pictures in my head and make them real. Thank you for this cover and the two others you’ve done. You are absolutely lovely, and my one and only when it comes to cover design!

Thank you to the team of editors who worked on this book for your time and effort.

To my husband—you are a very patient man, and I couldn’t do what I do if you weren’t there to lavish me with chocolate and Prosecco.
 

Most of all, I want to thank you for reading this book. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.

About the Author

April Emerson moved to New York City after graduating from college with a degree in literature. As a nature lover, living in the city was a culture shock, but she soon began to enjoy being surrounded by so much energy. Submerged in perpetual crowds, April developed a fondness for people
watching, which inspired her to start writing. Drawn to both the light and dark of humanity, she strives to tell sexy and romantic stories with exquisitely complex characters. When she isn’t writing, she loves listening to music or reading a good book while enjoying
a glass of wine.

You can find her at aprilemerson.com.