“Are you okay?” Noah asks, sitting beside me.
“We made it out,” I say. “Against all odds we made it out. There were so many times I honestly believed we wouldn’t. I very nearly gave up because I thought we had no chance. But here we are.”
“Here we are,” he says, taking my hand. “Your nan would be so fucking proud of you right now.”
My bottom lip trembles and he reaches over, taking my hand.
“She would, Lara. She believed in you more than anyone I know. She would be telling everyone she knew you’d make it if she were here.”
I laugh weakly. “She would. She’d be proud. You’re right, she would be glad to see that I’ve found myself again, but I didn’t do it for Nan. I did it for you.”
“It took a lot of guts. I’ll be forever thankful,” he says, his voice a low rasp.
“I don’t think I’ll ever fully forgive myself for what happened to Nan, but I’ve accepted it and I’ve learned from it. I push a huge part of myself down because of what happened, and part of it was my fault, but the other part was just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, with horrible people. Just like the situation we were in. Sometimes you can’t control fate, no matter what you do. I never should have buried who I am. I should have simply learned a lesson and bettered myself.”
“You’re doing that now. That’s all that matters.”
I snuggle closer to him. “There were so many times I thought we’d never get out of here, and now here we are sitting back in the place that was our nightmare.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s so fucking beautiful.”
“He honestly thought he had us pegged,” Noah says, gliding his thumb over my open palm that’s resting in his hand. “He was so sure he knew how this would go, how we’d act.”
“We proved him wrong.”
Noah squeezes my hand. “We proved him wrong.”
EPILOGUE
2 years later
I smile over at Noah, who is holding our daughter. She’s gurgling as she looks up at him, chubby hands waving around. I move closer to them, stopping at the back of the couch and leaning over, pressing a kiss to his neck and then reaching down and taking Bethy’s hand, letting her curl her tiny fingers around mine. She has her daddy’s eyes. In fact, she is all of him.
Perfection.
“You’re not going to the station today?” I say, pressing my nose to his neck and breathing him in.
He sighs. “No, got a day home with my girls.”
“Hmmm, I wonder how we can spend that?”
He growls and turns, pressing his lips against mine. “That’ll all depend on your daughter.”
“My daughter?” I giggle. “So she’s mine when she’s being naughty, but yours when she’s good?”
He grins. “Exactly.”
I reach for the remote and flick the television on, seeing a news report pop up. It’s the same story that has been on for the last few weeks. It’s swarming every television and magazine in the country.
“This again,” Noah says, his voice tight.
“Yeah,” I murmur, letting him go and moving around the couch to sit down beside him. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to make themselves famous for living through such an ordeal.”
His body tightens. “Neither do I. I’d happily spend the rest of my life never thinking about what happened in that forest, let alone writing a book about it.”
I cross my legs and watch the screen. A young girl, Marlie Jacobson, was recently taken by a serial killer dubbed the Watcher near Denver, Colorado. It was said that she escaped after killing him. It’s what happened afterward that really shocked the world. She went from a nobody to a famous author overnight when a book was released about her ordeal and she made millions.
“I heard her mother was behind the book,” I say, watching intently. “Look how broken she looks.”
The girl on the screen is walking down the street, head down, her mother following close behind her, smiling and waving at the cameras. The girl has a distinct limp; from what I read, the killer broke her knees. She’s not very old. And from my own experience, living through something like that is a damned nightmare. I wish I could take her into my arms and tell her it’ll be okay. Nobody deserves to live through that.
“She doesn’t look happy,” Noah says, his eyes on the screen. “That’s for sure.”
“Why would any mother want to make money from her child’s heartbreak?”
Noah shrugs, running his hand absently through Bethy’s hair. “It’s pretty fucked up.”
“Poor girl,” I say, lifting the remote and flicking the television off. “Could you imagine reliving that horror over and over every time someone brings up her book? It’s hard enough to move on. We both know that.”
Noah’s eyes find mine and he smiles. I smile back. Two years later and the memory of Bryce still lives in our minds, but we’ve found a way to live with it. It took a lot of time and therapy for us to get back to living even a remotely normal life, but we managed.
Bethy coming along has made things so much better for us. She brings light into our lives. She reminds us why we fought. She reminds us that there is happiness after darkness.
“Knock knock!”
We both turn to see Maggie and Peter coming in. Maggie has a freshly baked cake in her hands, which she promptly hands to Peter as she rushes forward, scooping our daughter out of Noah’s hands.
“How’s my little baby girl?” she croons.
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. After we found Maggie and Peter’s daughter and they laid her to rest, we all became close. It seemed inevitable. Maggie is like my nan in so many ways, I wonder at times if she’s Nan’s way of making sure I’m okay. Maybe she’s Nan’s forgiveness. Maybe she’s my forgiveness. I’ve learned over time to free myself from guilt over Nan’s death, and instead learn from it and better myself. I also want to ensure I am the best version of myself for my daughter.
We named our daughter after Maggie’s daughter, which just felt right.
Having them in our lives just feels right.
“She’s been keeping her mama awake.” I smile, tucking myself into Noah’s side when he stands.
We both watch Maggie fussing over Bethy and I know his heart is swelling as big as mine. Peter comes over and croons to Bethy now, too. They look like doting grandparents. Their eyes are light. For these moments, their bodies aren’t tense with the pain of losing their own daughter.
Their daughter can never be replaced, but that hole in their hearts is slowly being filled with every passing second they spend with Bethy.
I said I wanted to give back to the world, and there were so many times I wondered how I’d do that.
Then Bethy was born and I knew exactly how I could do that.
Watching this couple who has lost so much with Bethy is like watching my nan with me.
A beautiful bond being re-created.
My way of giving back, of making the future better than the past.
Just the way it should be.
Don’t miss Bella Jewel’s next thrilling romantic suspense!
THE WATCHER
Coming in 2017
From St. Martin’s Press
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Bella Jewel is a fun-loving Australian who lives in sunny Queensland with her two playful daughters. She’s been writing since she was fifteen and has authored a broad range of stories with wild characters ranging from bikers to pirates. When she’s not writing, Bella can be found kicking about on dirt bikes or riding horses. Bella has many more books planned for the future. Visit bellajewelbooks.com to learn more, or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
Acclaim for the novels of Bella Jewel
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
72 HOURS
Copyright © 2017 by Bella Jewel.
All rights reserved.
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eISBN: 9781250108357
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St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / April 2017
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
Bella Jewel, 72 Hours
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