“Wrapped up early. The weather turned, so we’re heading back ahead of schedule.” There’s a pause. “Listen, I know Georgie’s still in Skye, so I thought I’d swing by for a quick visit.”
My head jerks toward Patrick. His face doesn’t move, but his grip on the wheel tightens. That tiny shift is enough to make my stomach flutter in the worst possible way.
I should be thrilled that Jake’s coming, but instead of excitement, all I feel is dread curling low in my gut. How the hell is this going to work?
What happens to this… whatever-this-is… once Jake turns up? Maybe it only exists here, in the shadows of Skye, where no one’s watching.
“Sounds good. When exactly?” Patrick asks, voice neutral.
“Next week or so? I tried calling Georgie but couldn’t get through. Don’t tell her though; I want to surprise her.”
My stomach flips more violently.
“What are you up to today?” Jake continues conversationally.
Patrick’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Not much. Just busy with work.”
“How’s the prep going to get Skye on the Forbes list?”
Patrick answers him but I barely hear him.
“Right, I’ll let you get on with whatever wanky CEO activities you need to do. See you soon.”
“Yeah. Can’t wait, buddy.”
The line goes dead. Silence fills the car.
Patrick’s entire demeanor shifts, his shoulders rigid, jaw set in that grim line I recognize as his emotional shutdown mode.
The Skye bubble we’ve been floating in suddenly feels fragile, like it might pop the moment Jake sets foot on the island. And from the way Patrick’s gripping the steering wheel, I think he’s having the exact same realization.
My fingers drift to my throat, reaching for Riri’s chain the way I always do when I’m nervous.
Except my fingers find bare skin.
It’s not there.
I twist the rearview mirror toward me, craning my neck to see properly. Nothing. Just the curve of my throat where the gold should be sitting.
“No,” I whisper, scrabbling frantically at my jumper like it might be tangled in the fabric. “Oh God. No, no, no.”
Patrick glances over, his brow creasing. “What’s wrong?”
“My chain. It’s gone.” My hands won’t stop moving, checking and rechecking my neck, my collar, anywhere it might be hiding. “I must have lost it up at Storr.”
He eases off the accelerator. “When do you last remember having it?”
“I... I took it off this morning because of the Fairy Pools, but then I put it back on, I definitely put it back on before I met you, I always...” My voice climbs higher. “I’m so careful with it. I check it constantly. I never take it off, ever.”
I can’t stop touching my throat, like my fingers don’t believe what my eyes are telling me.
Patrick pulls over onto the verge and switches on the hazard lights. The sky’s already deep purple, meaning darkness is coming.
“Check the car,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Maybe it fell off in here.”
I dive under my seat, running my hands along the floor mats while my breathing goes shallow and quick. This can’t be happening.
“It must’ve come off when you were carrying me,” I babble, contorting to look under his seat too. “The piggyback, all that bouncing—”
