I stare back at the marina, now a tiny cluster of golden lights on the mainland, my heart rate still elevated despite the distance between us andthem. I almost had a heart attack when I spotted two of Davi's men in town. I managed to evade them without being seen, but what are they doing here?
Looking for you and Mabelis the obvious answer, but I thought they'd moved on. It's beenmonthssince they came upon me on that hiking trail, enough time to scour the area, find nothing, and head elsewhere. Looks like that was nothing more than wishful thinking.
What do I do now?
"Here. This should help calm you down." Clayton appears beside me with two glasses of something. Alcohol, I'm guessing. "Mabel is down, and security is being arranged as we speak. It's going to be okay."
I take a glass from him and throw it back, the clear liquid burning down my throat. I then claim the other glass and do it again.
"Is it?" I ask, not so sure about anything anymore. "And what about us? Arewegoing to be okay?"
I hurt Clayton by not telling him the truth, I know I did. That's why he's been avoiding me these past few days, and I deserve that. Yet in spite of his hurt feelings, when I needed him, he came through.
I trust him with my life, and even more importantly, I trust him with Mabel's.
"Is there even aweto speak of?" he replies.
My stomach drops. How stupidly presumptuous of me. He still isn't over his last relationship, why would I assume he'd be ready to barrel into another one? Especially one with a hot mess like me.
I spin to face him, and he's… "Why are you grinning?"
"Because you're cute when you're angsty."
His charm knocks all the wind out of me. The fear, the adrenaline, the pressure, the guilt; it finds its release in tears, and I fall into him. He wraps his arms firm around me, anchoring me to his steady frame.
I feel so safe with him.
Safe enough to finally tell him what I should have told him days, weeks ago.
Everything.
18
Clayton
Vaughn asks if we can go inside.
"Of course." I keep my palm nestled on his lower back as we head to the salon.
He sits down. I make him another two drinks. He only accepts one this time. I position myself on the seat across from him and focus my attention on the ice cubes in my glass so he doesn't see a countdown timer glaring at him when he looks at me.
I may have gotten too into my feelings about him not disclosing the truth to me a few days ago. That's not a mistake I want to repeat now. I mentally prepare myself. Whatever he's comfortable to share is fine with me.
He takes his time, but eventually, he starts talking. "I'm going to tell you everything, Clayton, but I have to warn you. It will incriminate you."
"That's fine." I take a big swig of vodka then place the glass on the coffee table, staring directly at him.
He meets my gaze, his jaw twitching. "I need you to swear on your life you will not repeat a word of this to anyone."
"You have my word. Whatever it is, it stays in this room between us."
He stares at me with a fierce intensity, but I see beneath that, to the fear that lies at the heart of his hesitancy.
"Here goes…" He takes a deep breath then hard launches straight into it. "Evie wasn't my wife, she was my best friend. We grew up together. Our families go way back. She's the only person I ever confided in about my sexuality. She wanted to get out of Montanaia as much as I did. We began hatching escape plans before we were ten. Back then, we didn't know about things like immigration requirements and visas. Luckily, Evie qualified for a special skills visa."
"What did she do?"
"She was a biomedical researcher specializing in developing antiviral therapies for emerging diseases."
