I study his face for deception, but there’s nothing there except invisible bruises.The kind I know too well.
He’s risking something by telling me this.I can feel it.
“My father can validate everything when we get to the island.”
I believe him.It’s strange, but the truth shimmers in his eyes, and his jaw tenses like he’s waiting for me to call him a liar again.
“Why do you want to help me?”I swallow.
“Because you need it.”
He bends his knees, leaning in.Too close, his presence devours the space between us, making my pulse spike.This push and pull is suffocating and addictive.I don’t trust him.I don’t even like him.But I believe him when he says I’d be safer with him than sleeping in the dirt behind some mechanic shop.
I take a breath and exhale slowly.“Fine.”
“Bulletsandbrains.”
He grabs my backpack.Before I can protest, he takes my hand in his and tugs me down the street toward the harbor.
I try to pull free, but his fingers squeeze, keeping me from slipping away without hurting me.He moves with purpose as if this was already decided.I let him lead me, but unease coils in my stomach.
He lights a cigarette with his free hand, the glow illuminating his striking features.
The moment his lips wrap around the filter, I yank my hand from his, pluck the cigarette from his mouth, and take a drag.
“You don’t strike me as a thief.”His brows lift.
“You don’t strike me as a rich boy.”I exhale smoke into the night.
“You have no idea what I am, princess.”
No truer words, and that’s what scares me.
Doubt follows me down the pier, hitting on all cylinders as we approach the waiting yacht.The water laps against the dock, crooning a dark warning.
Am I making a fatal mistake?
I glance back toward the town.Jag will find me.He’ll try to break me.More than he already has.
And Wolf just lost his job for me.
“How many islands are in Sitka?”I ask.
“Eleven-hundred-ish, but no one knows for sure.”
More importantly, Jag won’t know.If he figures out I left on a yacht, he’ll have to search over a thousand unknown islands to find me.
I love those odds.
“I’ll get your job back,” I say reluctantly.
It’s the least I can do.
“No.I will get my job back.”His finger dives toward my nose.“You will stay away from him.”
He boards the yacht, and I dig in my heels.
“Now what?”He pauses, pivoting to face me, hands on his hips.
