Read Belmary House Book Two for Free Online Page B

at Camilla, she pulled Ashford to a place where he couldn’t see her body, and put her arms around him, all while keeping an eye on Kostya. After a moment, Ashford’s hands rested lightly on her back and he pressed his cheek against her hair.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She felt him shake his head and held on tighter.
    Kostya slowly lowered his arm and looked down at the gun, seeming to marvel that he held it at all. Her memories flapped harder, called out more shrilly, and she got a sick sense of foreboding as she watched his eyes turn vacant, then decisive.
    She pulled away and clutched at Ashford’s jacket, her whole body going numb.
    “Take the gun from Kostya,” she said, unable to move. He turned slowly, a look of confusion on his face at her harsh tone.
    “Don’t,” she cried, hating herself for the cowardice that froze her.
    All she could see was the gun, and the hopeless look in his eyes, and as much as she willed it, her body would not move. His lip quirked up in a sad excuse for a smile, and she watched him raise his hand to place the gun beside his temple.
    Darkness threatened to overcome her and she shoved Ashford toward him. Ashford finally realized Kostya’s intent and jumped forward with a sound of anguish. She squeezed her eyes shut, heard the shot, and then everything went silent.

Chapter 5

    Tilly found herself flat on her back in the woods behind the church and scrambled, shaking, to her knees. Ashford sat near her, his head in his hands. He must have carried her out here because she didn’t remember anything after the shot rang out. Heart racing, she grabbed Ashford’s arm, collapsing into tears at the look on his face. Still, she fought against believing it and dug her fingers into his wrist.
    “Where’s Kostya?” she pleaded, shaking his arm. He let her do so, and continued to stare bleakly past her. “Did you leave him in there?”
    She crawled toward the cellar doors that led down into the underground room below the church, her determination to make what she wanted to believe true fighting the icy tendrils of fear that threatened to freeze her once again.
    It was her inability to move, grab the gun from him. That was why they were outside and Kostya was still below. It couldn’t be true. Sobbing, she tried to open the heavy door, but Ashford’s voice cut through her thick haze of denial.
    “Stop, Matilda. He’s gone.”
    She had to squeeze her eyes shut against the flashing images of Kostya’s hand slowly raising. In her mind it felt like it took ages and ages. Plenty of time for her to stop him. But she hadn’t been able to move, too lost in fighting her old memories.
    She sat back and rested her head on her knees, feeling like she was being assaulted from every direction. She knew it was a panic response, she’d had dozens of them and had been taught how to deal with them. She needed to breathe, but her tears choked her and she turned her face to the side, unable to look at Ashford.
    “I couldn’t stop him,” she said, futilely wiping her face with her skirt, only to flood her cheeks with a fresh onslaught of tears. What had she done in a past life to keep failing like this? What terrible thing had she done?
    “Of course you couldn’t,” Ashford said, surprisingly reasonable after what they’d been through.
    His gentle tone hit her hard. He’d just lost his sister and brother-in-law and he was consoling her. Shame at causing him to have to do that made her weep harder. If only she could sort the past from right now she thought she could stop crying, but there was nothing in her mind but the relentless cracking of gunshots.
    She knew she was going down a slippery slope, and tried to fight it. She had the tools, the things she’d been taught in her years of therapy after being diagnosed with PTSD, she just had to calm down and find them. If only she could stop hearing the sound of the shot.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, burying her head in her knees and pulling