“He’s not acting like himself!” This version of Rafe was more unstable than usual because he was bottling up his demons, and I was terrified of what he’d do when he finally exploded. I tossed the metal handcuffs I’d taken from Rafe’s kink drawer onto the table. “Cuff yourself to that pole,” I said, indicating the metal rod that separated the sitting area from the galley.

He picked up the cuffs and dangled them by a finger. “C’mon. Be reasonable. You and I both know you aren’t going to fire that gun.”

“Do you really wanna find out?”

He let out a few colorful words before grudgingly complying. After he’d trapped the pole between his arms with his hands shackled on the other side, I edged past him and ignored the icy glare he sent my way.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing. Rafe is gonna make you pay for this, and when he does, I’ll be there watching.”

Stowing the gun in my purse, I took off toward the stairs and grabbed an oversized hoodie I assumed belonged to Rafe on the way, pushing my arms through the sleeves as I climbed the steps. Reality hit me with paralyzing force the instant the wind hit my face, putrid with the scent of fish and fresh saltwater.

Months had passed since I’d tested my ability to overcome my phobia. It wasn’t like riding a bike or catching up with an old friend—things a person could pick up months or even years later as if no time had passed. The longer I spent away from facing my worst fear, the harder it was to overcome when the need arose.

And I needed not to freeze now. Sickness boiled in my stomach, and I wanted to slap Rafe silly for taking off, for doing God knows what without telling me what the hell was going on. I earned each step toward the side of the boat through deep breaths, plenty of chanting, and even a few blind stumbles as I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t remember alighting from the boat, but the trek down the dock brought on a panic attack. I sank to the damp wooden planks, my palms sliding in the moisture from the drizzle of Pacific Northwest rain, and willed myself into a state of tunnel vision. Nothing else existed except that field, just mere feet away.

Jumping to my feet, I sprinted across the slick surface and skidded into the muddy grass. Shit, I didn’t have time for this. Rafe had at least twenty minutes on me. Probably longer. Pushing to my feet again, I searched the area, eyes scanning the field for the barn. Through the fog, I made out a brown structure that rose higher than most outbuildings, so I assumed I’d find him there. Doing what, I didn’t know.