Page 114 of The Woman Who Couldn't Scream
She pulled the mixture control all the way to the lean.
The engine ran. The smell got stronger.
Suddenly, decisively, Benedict said, “We need to get out of here.”
“But we’ve got to get the motor to turn off. This is Bob’s living. He trusts me to—”
“Smell the gas? Something is very wrong. Merry Byrd, out of the plane. Now!”
She stopped fussing with the gauges, looked at Benedict, looked at the curl of smoke rising from the engine compartment and realized—he was right. Thank God she hadn’t released the parking brakes, because the two of them needed to get free of the area.
She jumped onto the tarmac. She sucked in fresh air; the fumes in the cockpit had been thick and getting thicker. Out here, her mind cleared. “Run!”
He grabbed her hand. “Come on!”
He started toward the terminal.
She ran with him, caught up in his alarm, progressing through all the scenarios in her mind. Fuel pump leakage? Wrong fuel? Malfunctioning starter? Damn it, she had checked everything.
He glanced back. “Faster!” He stepped behind her, pushed at her.
She sprinted. Then—
The fireball slammed him into her back, lifted them both off their feet, tossed them through the air. She landed facedown on the asphalt. She felt every tooth and bone break. She felt his dead weight on her back.
Then… there was nothing.
***
“Your aunt and uncle sabotaged the plane?”
“Yes.”
“In the hopes of killing me.”
“Yes.”
“And they got you, too.”
“Yes. But as Aunt Rose so blithely announced tonight, it all came out for the best.” His voice held a snap, a whiplash of anger that boded ill for Aunt Rose.
“No.” Merida wrapped her arms around his neck. “All would have been best if we’d been together.”
He rolled her beneath him, kissed her until they had no breath left.
“Come to bed with me,” he whispered.
“Of course. I have all the time in the world.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Benedict flipped on the light beside the bed. “The trouble is, wedon’thave all the time in the world. My aunt and uncle know I’ve found you and their aims haven’t changed. They want me to tend the family fortune and they see no reason they should be thwarted.”
Merida’s afterglow faded all too rapidly. She sighed and signed, “What doyouwant?”
“I want revenge on the people who killed my parents.”
She had to be the voice of reason. “You don’t know that they did.”
