Violet smiled, taking her hands out of her pockets and toying with the hem of her jacket. “My mom told me it was one of you. That Sara called and told them where they would find me.”
Rafe shifted nervously, looking down at his feet. “Sara would’ve come too, but, you know . . . your parents. I don’t think they like her right now.”
Violet nodded. She understood. “So it was Krystal?” She didn’t know why, but for some reason she was disappointed it hadn’t been Rafe. She thought they shared some sort of connection and that he would’ve been the one to find her. “How? Or should I ask who?”
“I’ll let her tell you. But I know she felt bad it didn’t happen sooner.” And then, as if he’d understood what she’d been thinking, he lifted his eyes to hers. “I’m sorry too, V. It should’ve been me. I should’ve saved you.” This time when he tried to touch her, Violet didn’t stop him. His hand came up beneath hers, moving so their skin grazed, their palms barely touching. The jolt was instant, and exhilarating, reminding Violet that she was still alive. That Caine hadn’t crushed her spirit.
“Rafe, I can’t—” She pulled her hand from his at the same time she glanced over her shoulder to where Jay was standing, and saw that his attention was focused solely on Rafe.
“I know,” Rafe said, more to himself than to Violet.
She turned back to him, her eyes imploring, beseeching.
“Go,” Rafe insisted, letting her off the hook. “It looks like it’s killing him not to come over here. Besides, I better get back inside before Krystal starts baking your dad a cake or something.”
Violet laughed, a first in days. “He’d probably like that.” She smiled as she watched Rafe bound up the steps again, but she stopped him before he reached the top. “Rafe,” she whispered. “Thanks for being here.”
And then Jay was at her side, and she forgot all about Rafe as she slipped back into his arms, so easily, so comfortably, she could’ve been falling into her own bed. Her face lifted to his and he kissed her. First on the head, like her mother had done, and then on the cheek, the way her dad had. But then his lips found her mouth, and the kiss became something else entirely.
Something that belonged only to them.
Epilogue
VIOLET STOOD AT THE CHAIN-LINK FENCING outside the park, curling her fingers through it as she stared at the playground beyond. After a minute, she checked the time on her cell phone.
It was 2:53. She was seven minutes early.
She had no idea what to expect from this appointment. No idea why they weren’t meeting at his office, why he’d insisted they meet at the park down the street from the elementary school in Buckley . . . the same one she and Jay had brought her cousins to on a day that felt like it could have been a lifetime ago.
But it was Dr. Lee, and she figured it was just another form of alternative therapy he was trying out on her.
She sort of thought he might not want to see her anymore, since she’d formally announced she was quitting the team and all. It had been hard to tell Sara, but at least she’d made it easy on Violet. She’d understood, of course. It probably wasn’t the first time Sara had seen someone survive something traumatic and come out of it with a new perspective on life.
Gemma had been practically giddy about Violet’s decision, unable to hide her smug grin, and Violet had almost taken it back, had almost decided to stay just to wipe that triumphant look from Gemma’s face.
Of course, telling the others had been damn near impossible. Especially after everything Krystal had done for her.
Violet knew now how it had happened. Why it had taken so long for Krystal to find her.
He’d told her. Caine. Violet was almost certain it had been him . . . even though Krystal didn’t see them as corporeal, the ghosts. She couldn’t match his human form to his spirit one.
But Violet knew.
Krystal said he’d come to her that night, telling her where to find Violet. Telling her he didn’t want Violet to be left alone. Not his girl.
Those were the words he’d used: his girl.
Violet still felt sick thinking about it. About him. She didn’t understand why he’d helped her, why he’d gone to Krystal to save her . . . especially after she’d killed him. But he had. For whatever reason, he’d sent help.
That made it even harder for Violet to quit them. But she’d done it. And here she was . . . free. Safe.
She stood across a grassy field from the playset, watching the kids take turns on the swings, on the slide, on the monkey bars. The unearthly backdrop of the music box seemed somehow more eerie here, while children dug in the sandbox. She watched as a wispy-haired blonde girl scurried up a wooden ladder.
Violet strained, trying to get a better look, almost sure it was little Cassidy . . . her cousin.
She looked around for her aunt Kat just as a voice interrupted her. “Adorable, aren’t they?”
It was Dr. Lee, and Violet turned to see him approach. She frowned. This wasn’t the Dr. Lee she knew.
Instead of his pressed jeans and cardigan, Dr. Lee wore a simple black suit over a fitted black turtleneck. The jacket was tailored perfectly, hugging his lean body and his broad shoulders. He looked like some sort of hit man, minus the dark sunglasses.
“What are you . . . ? Why did you want to meet . . . ?” Violet couldn’t think clearly. Something was off, and it wasn’t her. “What’s going on?” she finally managed.