Oh, how easily he could extract together, but he keeps not doing it, lets her thread her way into his life even though he feels every stab of the needle and knows she thinks she's stitching something back together. She's going to find herself disappointed with what she ends up with, but Ransom can't seem to help watching the attempt in morbid fascination.

He leans forward before she can put too much distance between them, as though to kiss her. "That's not the only option," he says, nearly against her lips. She hasn't yet gained her footing on the bottom of the bath, and he shoots a hand down to grab her ankle before she can lower it — the other he wraps his leg around, yanking her off balance, and uses his free hand to push her down. Pushing her under the water with one hand, dragging her down with the other.

He keeps hold for two seconds, maybe three. But that's enough Mississippis for anyone when the hands holding you down have already tried to kill you once.

He lets go, and by the time she comes up he'll already be reaching for some soap. He did come here for a bath, after all.